Cullen gently cradled her jaw in his hand, touching his nose to hers, and he gave a sad smile at her response. He found that often his words were not enough to ease the despair that filled the woman he loved, but he tried regardless.
“I do not believe I am wrong.” He replied softly. “You are perfect to me. That doesn’t not mean that you do not have flaws, as we all do, as I certainly do. But yours…match mine. I believe there is hope in that. And I doubt you would let me down, my Lady. More likely the opposite.”
How she wished that he would not think she was perfect. There were so many flaws that she had, so many terrible mistakes that had been made. Ariella offered him a small smile that was tinged with sadness. “I am glad to know you think so highly of me, Cullen.” Her next words were carefully chosen as his scent intoxicated her.
“My mother died when I was born.” So they were having this conversation. She had decided when all of this had started, that she would let his questions guide this conversation. That way, she would not have to give up too much information. “I have always felt as though it was a curse, my father blamed me for her death. That is why I was sent to live in Orlais.”