No doubt, if she felt she could speak up she would. Narcissa had never been one to keep her mouth shut when she was unhappy. Unless, of course, Draco was part of the equation. He was the only person on Earth whose happiness was placed before her own. By voicing her discontent, it would be terribly selfish. His well-being was never something she would compromise for her own sake, so she did not feel she could say anything.
It did calm her somewhat when he took her hand and kissed it. Affection was what she needed, and any sign of his adoration was taken to heart. He was right; her stress and the depth of her worrying both had worn her down. She walked at his side, taking care to lace their fingers after he'd kissed her hand. "I have much to do," she said. "We have much to do." She was quiet after that, though her mind was still spinning. "Would it be detrimental if we took our bed from the Manor and brought it here?" She asked, and that was about as close as she would get to admitting her dislike of leaving the Manor.