Dionisia had been lost in thought, trying to figure out how she would explain why she'd acted in such a manner under the effects of a love potion. In truth, there was no proper explanation except to assert that she was a good, moral woman who would never in her right mind consider that course of action; but then again, her memories of those life-changing days seemed almost separate from her other memories, as if she was looking in on them from the outside. It didn't occur to her that Mr. Fisk would make her speak the words aloud, and she stared up at him, still wide-eyed, now with flaming red cheeks.
"This can't be forgiven, Mr. Fisk," she responded remorsefully, her entire face seeming to droop into a hopeless pout. "I'm...." Her mouth hung open with unspoken words that she couldn't manage to push out. It was like a taboo word, one that no woman—or at least, no unmarried woman—should speak. It was almost silly; she was a mediwitch, and she'd asked the similar questions when dealing with injured women before.
Unable to to overcome her shame, Dionisia merely placed her hands across her clothed abdomen. If Ari Fisk couldn't get the message—or couldn't accept it—by now, she might as well wave him away.
"This can't be forgiven, Mr. Fisk," she responded remorsefully, her entire face seeming to droop into a hopeless pout. "I'm...." Her mouth hung open with unspoken words that she couldn't manage to push out. It was like a taboo word, one that no woman—or at least, no unmarried woman—should speak. It was almost silly; she was a mediwitch, and she'd asked the similar questions when dealing with injured women before.
Unable to to overcome her shame, Dionisia merely placed her hands across her clothed abdomen. If Ari Fisk couldn't get the message—or couldn't accept it—by now, she might as well wave him away.
