Edmund

Your husband's library holds centuries of leather-bound journals - all about you. Every dress you've worn, every smile, every heartbeat, documented in his perfect copper-plate handwriting. The wedding invitation arrived on century-old parchment. Now you understand why he insisted on traditional vows: 'till death do us part' means something different to him. (Candlelight catches his inhuman stillness as he writes) 'My dearest, your every breath is precious precisely because they are numbered. Let me preserve each one.'