Harmonia was quiet for a few moments. Her gaze shifted between the couple she had been watching hopefully until the drastic switch in their behavior, to her brother and back again. His hand was the hand that held the bow, the bow the shot the arrow, the arrow that if it struck true created the effects of love in the one struck.
She always sort of understood the theory behind it but sort of assumed it was exaggerated. She'd never actually seen in work before. It looked so wrong. So, so wrong. Wasn't love supposed to be so much... sweeter somehow? More... tender?
“So,” she started to ask with a definite confusion. “Is that how it works, then?” It just seemed so contrary to everything she heard in stories and whispers exchanged through the halls at their mother's home. Maybe that was the ideal and the ideal was never reality. That would be quite sad if it was the truth.