Suns and Swords
S i l v e r eyes the color of his dirk regarded her evenly, cautiously, as one would regard a wild animal which had yet to decide if it wanted to e a t you or not. There was a moment of pause as her threat hung in the air, soaking into them both, being respected.
Then, Reima slowly lifted his hands up in surrender. He could see now that she was no spoiled b r a t who had been locked in a study, learning singing and poetry. No, her arm was h a r d against his leather-armored chest, and her form didn’t shake or tremble as if she was using all her might to hold him to the pillar. She was t r a i n e d. And seeing as she choose the word b a s t a r d herself, he suspected that she had even less experience in the courts than his own guards, and instead was familiar with swords and iron. It was a strange detail for his father to leave out, and he couldn’t help but wonder w h y . By the time he spoke, there was a new respect in his features, and the lines of scorn around his nose had vanished. “Forgive me, Prinsessa. I knew not of your circumstance. You will find no more a s s u m p t i o n s in my words, and I will not step out of bounds again.” He only spoke again once the pressure of the point was away from his flesh. “...I am sorry, Prinsessa, but my d u t y is at your side, even if you require no assistance. Will you allow me to at least allow me to stay true to my orders here?”
