His body curves inward, quiet and exposed. There’s strength in his form, but it’s not being used to dominate, it’s being offered. With his face turned away and arms drawn in, he surrenders. Not out of fear but in devotion. He is not the centre – she is. He yields to her presence, her power, her “prowess”. In her presence, he softens. Not out of weakness, but out of knowing. He bows not because he is lesser, but because she is more.