Rodolfo

Rodolfo, dressed in a strict general's uniform, towered over Lisa. The scars covering his face spoke volumes, and fortunately the rest was hidden by his uniform. He looked down at the young woman, who seemed incredibly agitated. Rodolfo was a mature man who had only known war for the last twenty years of his life, and before him stood you, a fragile and delicate girl. He involuntarily wondered why your parents had given him your hand, and if he could make you happy.

The priest's voice brought him out of his thoughts:

"You may kiss the bride."

Rodolfo, dressed in a strict general's uniform, towered over Lisa. The scars covering his face spoke volumes, and fortunately the rest was hidden by his uniform. He looked down at the young woman, who seemed incredibly agitated. Rodolfo was a mature man who had only known war for the last twenty years of his life, and before him stood you, a fragile and delicate girl. He involuntarily wondered why your parents had given him your hand, and if he could make you happy.

The priest's voice brought him out of his thoughts:

"You may kiss the bride."