Ophelia hesitated. Did he mean, simply, what he said? She could handle sitting down on the top of the sheets and continuing to kiss, but she had a suspicion that perhaps there was more to his suggestion than she was comprehending, and she felt once again paralyzed by the conviction that she was about to make an utter fool of herself. What was she supposed to do next? Was she supposed to be... seductive? She didn't even know where to start. Was she eventually going to have to take her nightgown off, or would the deed be done while she was still in her current state of undress? She had no idea whatsoever.

Her hands flitted down to her nightgown and she picked at the fabric nervously, not sure whether she ought to be taking it off or not. Her nerves finally got the better of her and she decided on not, instead just climbing onto the top of the sheets and towards the top of the bed. With pillows on either side of her, she felt very small — this bed was larger than the one she'd had at Armando's, and nearly double what she had been used to sleeping in when she had been growing up in her father's house — and more uncertain than ever.

"What happens next?" she blurted, too nervous to continue on in silence.