He knew her from afar. She was a fair maiden. Delicate, fragile. To be handled with care. She was dainty, elegant. A sweet smile lingered on her face always. People’s faces brightened when they looked at her. She was always adorned with flowers. She would make a pretty decorative wife, he thought.

He knew her like one knows their own soul. She was dainty from outside but strong from within. She was heady, intoxicating. She was stimulating. To the eyes as well to the mind. When you wrapped your hands around her, she would give you warmth like a bearskin on a cold, wintry night. She would be a comfort to have in youth and she would grow better with age. Just like wine.

She was a teacup, one thought. She was wine, thought the other.