Then she loved him more than she could ever say. [ She nods, certainty settling upon her conclusion. More than words could say, at the end of their union. ] And she didn't have to be his wife to know where she stood?

[ If, Serenity deliberates, Duke Leto had been a man of the make Paul describes — and he must've been, for her mother to entrust him with the heirloom of her existence — then...devotion to him would come easy. For his men and his wife.

Serenity can't call the Lady Jessica a 'concubine,' in spite of the label's accuracy, although she's only thinking and not speaking aloud. It doesn't feel right. She'd been his wife.

He loved her. She loved him. The most sacred of vows had been made, moonlight or no, legal or otherwise.

...hmm.

At long last, his hand drops. Her gaze traces up toward the sky again. ]

Thank you for telling me their story. [ The first link in the chain. ] What must that be like, I wonder — to love a person to their...?

[ Her nose wrinkles. She wants to repeat 'starseed,' though she draws a blank at what most other worlds term them. ]

Their [ Forgetting herself in her frustration, Serenity points to his chest with a squiggling motion. ] real-thems, inside.