Everything Has A Price: Unclear Intentions
@honorhearted continued X
Philomena’s infirm and a part of the blonde knows it. She can’t work because she can hardly stand on her own two legs and laying down with the bruises she has was nearly impossible. Assisting this Cause - well, any Cause is turning out to be more than she bargained for.
A snarl meets Philomena’s countenance as she turns to face him with a black eye and swollen cheekbone. “Because, my dear Major, there is always a price to be paid. There is no such thing as selfless charity.” She answers. The words ‘my dear major’ are seeped in lemon-like sarcasm. “If its not paid in bed, its typically paid in blood, sweat, and tears.” A fact she learned from woeful experience. She’d been cornered outside of the tavern and beaten by one of the former jailers because now that she was free she refused him special favors. Maybe if she hadn’t been free, she wouldn’t be so concerned with her messed up face. And because her face had been messed with, she was unable to perform at the theaters.
She winces, hating the implication she cast upon him when he is speaking so softly with her. But it can not be helped. She’s scared, feverish, frustrated, and exhausted. His words cause her entire skeletal frame to stiffen. Her stomach gives a fitful rumble of a hunger pang. His appeal to self preservation is mighty motivating.
“So what is it? What is your price?” She challenges. “Tell me that and I will give you what little trust remains.” Philomena’s eyes lock upon him when he seats himself at her table. “And I want the truth or I am leaving..”