Jonal rambled on about whatever it was that the infamous Lady Tottinlot had say in his direction, liking something about the good lord's more feminine traits no doubt. Wouldn't be the first time that someone had said a harsh word in the lord's direction, especially the times she was aware of, and it sadly wouldn't be the last.
Of course, his ramblings stopped when an extra body entered the room. Jonal addressed the fellow with a snobbish request for identification, which seemed to startle the poor man...
Once Mytorane's attention came on him she couldn't look away. This newcomer was wearing the fine fabrics of a lord with a stance and sheepish look of fear consistent with a slave, abused to the point of becoming skiddish creature afraid of his own shadow. As true as this was, her majesty didn't notice that aspect of him right away. His eyes were beautiful, glossy with an iris painted a deep brown. Eyes seemed to be the part of the human body she say first for some strange reason. Of course, under the fabrics fitting of lords was a fine-toned muscle structure, consistent with someone that laboured all their life, and his body had shown for it. His skin was a rich colour, darker than a tanned hide or dark chocolate. The top of his head bared exotic, wild, frizzy hair, just barely tamed by how he had been prepped to appear as a lord.
She couldn't believe how beautiful he was. Yes, there were attractive men within the castle, and there were handsome men in the gaggle of suitor earlier on in the day, but they were held a complex charm that was impossible to unwind, and if one did, more likely than not, hided an agenda that would make the words 'I love you' meaningless, and what affection for her fake. No, this man had an air that was more simple, humble, and true.
Her own hormones, racing through her as they would race through an eighteen year old woman, had for a small moment, merely a fraction of time that was imperceivable to either Lord Jonal or this amazing beau that could easily had been a work of art animated in human flesh and bone, had distracted her from how he was feeling.
He was shaking in his costume as a cold sweat came over him. He choked on his words, barely audible from where she stood in the room. When she found herself gazing back in his eyes she could then see the fear it held. Fear that it likely held in her direction, at her position, and the power that came with it to judge the living and the dead, the value of life itself within the empire.
She hated that he was so afraid. Inside she wanted to cry. He was clearly no lord, merely a lower caste peasant or slave dressed like one.
More reason to keep the jail guard waiting. Mytorane looked at the young man and said in a soft voice "Hello there. Tis something the matter?"
Last edited by Mikodite; 06-13-2008 at 10:22 AM.
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