((I may have made a slightly severe mistake in my last post. There was no attention paid to the bruise across Dousa's face. Though I guess we could say his dark color hid it from immediate view.))

She accepted his apology, though his nerves wouldn't settle for long before she would again, break the ground from under him.


"What brings ye to the castle?"

Fear drenched the small man. Barely from a boy, Dousa's life was in terrible danger. He couldn't imagine why the seemingly foolish lords of the castle had decided to pick a peasant from the docks an polish him up just to be killed. The same amount of sense would tell one to put old wine into new bottles. He was wasted here.

He hadn't the slightest idea of how to please a woman. Mainly because he had never interacted with a woman in a sensual nature. Living with his nameless family in the slums wasn't the best place to pick up on such knowledge. Though he had fallen in love with a girl or two while he was a child, he was only sixteen when he was sold to the fishermen. Relations and sexual activity prematurely cut-off.

'Tank you, milady.' He responded, buying time to think while he gave a generous bow.

Deceit never worked onboard a ship where everyone was out for themselves. Dousa himself had ratted out his best friends while aboard to save his own skin -or at least get less of a beating. Despite a lack of practice, Dousa ventured to think he could lie his way out of this situation by simply telling the truth.

'Twas' de lords of de castle did bring me 'ere. Av' ye needing eh 'usband to acompany ye in de t'rone. Me b'es wishes fer de queen, an'er hopes of weddings.' -Not so much a lie as it was the twisted truth. Vikas Tyr, a lord of the castle, who had informed him of why he was in the castle, saving his life even without the help of his blade. For now, that is.

Dousa's face held all the confidence that he could muster. His legs still shaking, he focused on remaining calm belly-to-brow. He wondered silently if she was actually inquiring as oppose to interrogating. Surely the queen's patience would run out sooner or later. Was she toying with him, as the lion does, batting the mouse around before effortlessly devouring the helpless creature?
Surely the queen realized just how helpless this man was, even if he was good guising around as a lord, she would see through him oh-so easily and would without a doubt sentence him to death.

'Ef I may wish de queen many years of reign and peace, I be going. De queen 'as tings ta do.' Dousa concluded.

Yes! Yes! He'd escaped! Surely there wasn't any other bussiness Dousa would be needed for. The queen would excuse him as she had done the lord before him, and he would escape the castle scott-free. Dousa's head felt a bit heavier with the wits and cunning he now assumed filled it. The pure happiness he felt he wore upon his face. An earnest smile stretching his dark features.

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