[ He's as ignorant as the rest of them, she concludes before she has even finished raking him with her hawk-quick gaze. He hasn't the faintest idea who she is, although how this is possible, she cannot begin to guess. She shouldn't have to. He should have recognized her, should have devoted himself to her protection above all else, and he should have had the good sense to be wearing a sword, in the event that he is called upon to fulfill such a valiant task.
But he is not the warrior she has been yearning for. He is little more than a squire, if he is anything: he is made of gentle lines, there is sincere confusion in his face, and in that same face there is a striking lack of deception. He is, it would seem, truly bewildered by her refusal of his gift, and for a moment this has the sole effect of infuriating her all the more.
Who would be killing him? Her headsman, if he were here to be summoned. Any of the knights who routinely flank her when she walks from one end of the keep to the other. Any half-trained hound, if she'd had one to inflict upon him. Her brother, the king, a hired sellsword; she has none of these things. If would have to be her own hands put to the work of eliminating this hapless stranger, and she has no taste for blood on her own fair palms.
She reaches to petulantly shove the bedroll forward against him, wishing she had a piece of brilliant crystal to throw at his impossibly honest face, and wears thin what few threats she can brandish. ]
The king, when he hears how you've insulted me. [ Or, she must now consider, the lord of this place, whoever he may be. She has already resolved herself to the fact that he must be ingratiated to her. Until then, she is expected to craft her own weapons, it seems.
Not half a moment after this quaint outburst, she narrows her focus entirely to keeping this man enlisted in her service. ]
Lay it out. [ She doesn't want it, but she's not going to let the only feasibly soft surface she has for enduring this evening be revoked now. ] Find me a pillow, if you have any desire at all to survive this night. [ That there is one anywhere in this cursed vicinity is unlikely, but that's hardly her problem; he should have the sense to rob someone of their robe and make do if he fails to locate something better. ]
this poor man
But he is not the warrior she has been yearning for. He is little more than a squire, if he is anything: he is made of gentle lines, there is sincere confusion in his face, and in that same face there is a striking lack of deception. He is, it would seem, truly bewildered by her refusal of his gift, and for a moment this has the sole effect of infuriating her all the more.
Who would be killing him? Her headsman, if he were here to be summoned. Any of the knights who routinely flank her when she walks from one end of the keep to the other. Any half-trained hound, if she'd had one to inflict upon him. Her brother, the king, a hired sellsword; she has none of these things. If would have to be her own hands put to the work of eliminating this hapless stranger, and she has no taste for blood on her own fair palms.
She reaches to petulantly shove the bedroll forward against him, wishing she had a piece of brilliant crystal to throw at his impossibly honest face, and wears thin what few threats she can brandish. ]
The king, when he hears how you've insulted me. [ Or, she must now consider, the lord of this place, whoever he may be. She has already resolved herself to the fact that he must be ingratiated to her. Until then, she is expected to craft her own weapons, it seems.
Not half a moment after this quaint outburst, she narrows her focus entirely to keeping this man enlisted in her service. ]
Lay it out. [ She doesn't want it, but she's not going to let the only feasibly soft surface she has for enduring this evening be revoked now. ] Find me a pillow, if you have any desire at all to survive this night. [ That there is one anywhere in this cursed vicinity is unlikely, but that's hardly her problem; he should have the sense to rob someone of their robe and make do if he fails to locate something better. ]