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As Anakin helped Isadora out of the bath and dressed her in clothes, his touch was gentle yet firm, a silent reminder of the control he exerted over her. Once she was clothed, he stood back, his expression serious as he outlined the rules she must follow.
"First," he began, his voice low and authoritative, "you are not to speak to anyone within the Sith quarters. You must remain out of sight, unseen by any of my allies or associates."
Isadora nodded, understanding the importance of blending into the shadows in order to avoid drawing attention to herself.
"Second," Anakin continued, his gaze unwavering, "you are not to attempt to run away. You are to stay within these quarters at all times, under my watchful eye."
Again, Isadora nodded, though she felt a pang of unease at the thought of being confined to these rooms indefinitely.
"And finally," Anakin said, his tone becoming even more stern, "no man is to touch you ever again. You are mine, Isadora, and I will not tolerate anyone encroaching upon what is mine."
With that, he reached into his pocket and produced a small cuff, which he fastened securely around her wrist. Isadora looked down at the device, recognizing it as a tracking device that would monitor her every move.
As the cuff clicked into place, sealing her fate, Isadora felt a sense of resignation wash over her. She knew that she was trapped, bound to Anakin by chains of her own making. But despite the fear and uncertainty that gripped her heart, she also felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that whispered of the love that still existed between them.
With a silent nod, Isadora accepted her fate, knowing that she would do whatever it took to survive in this dangerous world of darkness and deceit. And as she looked into Anakin's eyes, she saw the same determination mirrored there, a silent promise that together, they would weather whatever storms lay ahead.
As Isadora followed Anakin out of the quarters, she couldn't help but steal glances at him, taking in the sight of his powerful form. His presence exuded strength and authority, and despite the darkness that surrounded him, there was a magnetic allure that drew her to him.
"Anakin," she began tentatively, matching his brisk pace, "why do you wear that mask and the Sith attire? You look... different without it."
Anakin's steps faltered for a moment, and he glanced at her with a mixture of annoyance and resignation. "It's because I have no need for affection," he replied curtly, his voice tinged with bitterness. "This mask serves as a reminder of the man I've become, the darkness that consumes me. I wear it to conceal the scars of my past, to shield others from the monster that lies beneath."
Isadora felt a pang of sadness at his words, knowing that beneath the layers of anger and resentment, there was still a flicker of the Anakin she once knew. But she also sensed the walls he had erected around his heart, barriers that seemed impenetrable to her love and affection.
