Offering him a smile, Narcissa moved to the chair and sat down. "Thank you," she said, folding her hands in her lap for a few silent moments before unclasping them again. It was not the apology that was bringing on the pause, but the strange discordance in having the younger version of her husband, he best friend, before her in such a vital, untouched way. Oh, he was marked, but so much about him was still very untouched and unaffected.

"I wanted to apologize again for my behaviour when I arrived," she finally said, voice soft, even now unable to resist the natural instinct to reach out and gently touch his cheek, as if testing the skin that had only held redness briefly.