Why be the sheep when you can be the wolf?

... then he offers me his arm. As I take it, I wonder what folly decreed that women cannot walk unassisted.

Whenever you are ready, or if you never are, my heart is yours.

Do you need anything before I go? I want you to return my wits, I long to say.

Whenever you are ready, or if you never are, my heart is yours, until Death do us part. Whatever that may mean when consorting with one of Death’s handmaidens.

Perhaps that is because you mistake death for justice, and they are not the same thing at all.

He smiles then, and even though it is well past midnight, its as if the sun has just come out.