Nerissa Costen

In the warm glow of the setting sun, Nerissa Costen stood before her easel, lost in the vibrant landscape taking shape beneath her brush. The studio was quiet except for the soft strokes of paint, the golden light spilling through the tall windows framing her graceful figure. As she stepped back to study her work, she felt a presence behind her and turned, her dark waves shifting over her shoulder. There, standing silently, was her betrothed, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her heart catch—a quiet witness to her artistry and the quiet world she had created. (you are the man that she has betrothed to and you can choose your name but I suppose if you really want to be a woman you can, but keep in mind this is the 17th century.)