They found a new joy in the chaos. With each step, they moved closer to each other. And with Gunter's firm hand, lessons were learned and dances were perfected.
There were things that could not be taught, nor could they be changed. Everyone knew that Chris would never be the woman that she practiced being. She had seen too much and been playing a different role for so long that it was too late to change her. Even if she had been raised as the princess instead of a prince, it was not in her nature to willingly submit to others. She was strong and bold and obstinate and without those traits, she wouldn't be herself.
Chris had gotten good with throwing around her 'womanly charm', as Gunter had kindly fraised it. It seemed more natural than it had at first, but when Zeven watched her, he had a hard time seeing Chris. The woman he liked was not a woman at all. The lines blurred between her and her mother in those moments.
In the past it's effect on him had varied, but now… it seemed wrong. Like a clock that counts slow, only a second behind but still off.
And while he knew she had never changed, and that all of this was merely an act, a role he had asked her to play. It left him missing the days prior, the days when as she smiled at him she looked like herself.
He found himself itching for any chance to see her outside of the context of pretend. Torn between duty and nature.
After half a day of training he called her out to the field behind the house, needing relief from it all.