Much less used to arbitrary touching now, Narcissa blinks at the gentle fingertips upon her cheek. But it doesn't take long for her expression to soften and her hand to rise and press Bella's hand against her cheek. She isn't so much a Malfoy that she doesn't remember how it is to be a Black and have no shame in who she is.

"Don't spit on the wisdom that comes with time," she says, teasingly so, her brows arching in that way that is all Narcissa, subtle but playful in the right company. "I suppose I get to have the edge of knowing better now."

If only she could convince Bella to not take the mark and remain as she is now. Bold and shameless but not completely swept away by Him.