"Dear, you've acquired more injuries…" Elizabeth's pale fingers, painted with dark red nail polish, traced across Charles's chest.
Charles caught Elizabeth's fingers, "Wounds that time can take away are of no concern, no matter how numerous. It's the ones that can't heal that are troublesome."
"And your left arm…" Elizabeth's face showed a flicker of pain as she looked at Charles's iron hand. They hadn't seen each other for three years, and he seemed to have suffered so much.
"It's fine; actually, prosthetics like this are more useful than the original arm. You should ask them about your eye too; perhaps they have a substitute for that as well." Charles flexed the prosthetic on his left arm.
Elizabeth shook her head gently, lifting the eye patch on her face to reveal a black and red-pupiled eye under her slender black eyelashes, gazing at Charles.
"What is this? Is it a relic that can replace the vision of an eye?" Charles asked in surprise.
