Irene's pulse did not rise as much as Arabella's did. Nothing seemed to bother her by any means. Not even being in a vampire's arms.
She barely raised her gaze towards Silas at all.
To put it more simply, it was as though her eyes distinguished no colors, as though her senses picked on neither warmth nor coolness.
"Are you feeling alright, my Lady?" he asked.
"Yes, I am alright, thank you, but I am no Lady," her voice was as dull as the look in her eyes.
She followed his lead when dancing and made no demands, no attempts at shifting her weight of her own accord, raised no complaints and… Sadly, returned no smile.
Then again, it was no surprise that rocking the boat wasn't her favorite activity. In a position where putting a hair out of line could cost someone their life… What was left to bargain with or for?
