"The quiet type," she said to me in the cabin in the woods, the first time I met her, "I like that."
She told me about the Dark Brotherhood. She told me she wanted me to join. My mind was wondering whether or not I would have to refer to her as 'sister' if I joined, and if that would change once she and I were married. That could get awkward. All doubts aside though, I joined the brotherhood. It was no more than ten minutes later that she dropped the "H" bomb. Husband.
"WHAT?! This is your... hus... band? But... but... but... he's old! I think. Is his hair blond or white? And he's barefoot. Not judging but... why? And, crap, he's more buff than me!" By this point, I was completely over the fact that she was married, and way more concerned about the buff, barefoot old man that I wanted to stab. But I digress.
The point is, she was totally sending mixed messages here! She said she likes the quiet type, in a way that indicated to me that she likes the quiet type. She could have mentioned that her husband was, in fact, the quiet type as well. It was all just a sick ploy to get me to join. "Don't be fooled by a pretty face," someone told me after the fact, but it was too little too late.
So here we are, Shadowmere and I, wandering the Skyrim countryside, looking for love. Unfortunately, in this fantasy story, damsels in distress are few and far between.