Thread: Asking for Directions {darkangel76 & Alan23}

Galvie was not dissapointed. Ten minutes or so after lunch, he heard the sharp click of boot-heels as the soldiers on guard outside his mobile prison stand to attention, and, looking out of the bars of the tank, saw the unmistakeable figure of Andromeda Hammond approaching. Today she was clad in mint green, and unlike last time immaculate. There was not a hint of a mud-stain or crease anywhere. She again looked exactly what she was - a society belle! As usual, Galvie saw the heads of various troopers turn and look appreciatively at her. It might have been, he mused, simply appreciation of her appearance, for she certainly looked stunning in the green dress. Alternatively, it could have been a hope that something else would go awry in her clothing, and provide them some amusement. He'd already overheard the guards outside discussing the poor girl's corset mishap of the day before, and it seemed they'd already all guessed that she hadn't gone into the shower to inspect it, but to adjust her underwear! He had to give her points, though, for sang froid. Despite her humiliation of the day before she showed no sign of shyness or residual embarrassment. She was walking as haughtily as ever, as if the rude and foul-mouthed troopers did not exist, her head held up. Somehow, she seemed able to reduce them to mere cyphers, mere pond life so down in the food chain that she did not even have to consider their existence. Obviously being brought up as the daughter of the president gave you a certain confidence that could not be bought! He stood up, politely, continuing his already established strategy of always acting like a gentleman in her presence. It was almost like scoring a victory, proving that even imprisoned and surrounded as he was, his identity was still strong enough to maintain urbanity. Like Drake, finishing off his game of bowls before the Armada were lined up ready for battle, or Henry V refusing to cow before the French at Agincourt, and instead saying he wished their own numbers were fewer, so they could gain more glory from the upcoming victory. The fact that after the disaster of three hundred years ago neither France or Spain could ever be a threat to England again was irrelevant - at the time, their chutzpah had meant something, and he flattered himself he was continuing that spirit! He stood, with his hands behind his back. Ostensibly, this was the military at ease position that denoted respect without subservience, but he was also aware of the fact that standing like this made his chest and shoulders appear even broader. Even chained and unarmed, he was, he knew, somehow far more formidable looking than the troopers of the 7th. He carefully scanned her pretty, even features as she approached. Looking carefully for clues as to her mood. Would she be shy, after the events of the day before? Grateful for his help when her corset, and then her zipper, had conspired to embarrass her? Or offended that by fixing said zipper, he'd drawn even more attention to it. Had another night in the wilds made her even more contemptuous or afraid of him, or was there even a chance that she felt, if only slightly, some kind of fondness for his chivalry? Greetings. Ma'am, he said, in his soft Anneslandian drawl, a dialect of English more like the mother country than that spoken by Amerikans, yet with its own unique softness and drawl, carrying an undertone of magnolia blossoms and mangroves, and the languor of his homeland. Once again, it is truly a pleasure to see you. Let me assure you again, my gratitude at your solicitousness is unbounded. He could see the mouths of his guard tighten. Most of them would not even know what some of the words he used meant, never mind be able to use them in casual conversation without sounding pretentious. It was all part of the psychological warfare he was utilizing. In many ways they had him at a disadvantage, but as far as psychology went, he had already taken many of the tricks in this mental poker game - and he had it in mind to take many more. May I ask if you spent a pleasant night, he continued, again looking into her eyes. Or is that enquiry superfluous? For, given how fresh and charming you look, it's patently obvious that you spent an excellent night's sleep. Indeed, if your current appearance is caused by 'beauty sleep,' then surely, like the princess in the fairy tale, you must have slumbered for many decades!