Thread: Squire's Secret (Benny and Gunner)

Kill him? She looked surprised, almost startled for a moment. These men were strange. Another one spoke up, growled more like. Bright blue eyes narrowed and her free hand tightened into a fist. The man was large and picking a fight with him might possibly be foolish. It was, perhaps, lucky that another voice spoke up across the tavern, along with a short raise of a hand. Eyes narrowed at the dark haired man Jacqueline turned towards the other voice. Holy Mary mother of God. If Jacqueline was anything like the other women at tournaments she might have thrown some favors this man's way. Some simply lost their feathery little heads when it came to the decidedly handsome knights. She had been to a few tournaments in her life but by God she couldn't remember a better looking man. Better than the lot she had approached and better than some of the men who had been potential candidates for husband. Then she realized she was staring. Quickly she wiped her face clean and headed over to Sir Friderick. Heaven help her. This almost wasn't fair. Why couldn't Sir Friderick of Alnerwick be a grizzled old warrior type? Word of her victories had, of course, spread but she hadn't heard tell of what he looked like. No, she had to keep her head. Up close was worse. It was lucky the tavern was a little dark, illuminated by candles and lamps. She could feel her ears burning. Her right foot tucked back behind her left ankle. Not thinking straight she almost curtsied. Stupid habits. Couldn't stop now. Instead she managed an awkward sort of bow. That was how men greeted one another right? Suddenly she couldn't remember men ever greeting one another. She needed to pull herself together quickly. Friderick guessed who she was, or was at least pretending to be. Though right on the heels of that was a reprimand. Jacqueline was taken aback, furrowing her red brows a little at the man. A pleasure to meet you at long last Sir Friderick. She kept her tone as low as possible without sounding too exaggerated. My apologies for being late. If horses could fly I imagine timeliness would be better kept, she said as she sat down, dropping her back next to the chair. When offered the bread her head tilted some. Just bread? Not a very good meal. She jumped when he suddenly stabbed the table next to the bread. Her head tilted some at the knife and the bread. Very well, she said as wrapped a small hand around the handle. She had hoped it would come free with ease. As it were it took two tugs to remove the knife from the wood. It was a little large for her hand making it a touch unwieldy. All the while the deep blue of his eyes never wavered off of her. It was making her uneasy. Like he was looking right through her and knew her falsehood. That was foolish. Men were too stupid to realize such things. Carefully, almost gently, she rocked the knife through the bread. Tough but not impossible. His question about a squire's duties was an odd one. Her eyebrows raised up some even as her attention remained on the bread she was cutting. No one reads? That's a shame...I don't sing though. A bit of a lie but she knew full well her voice was far too high to risk any song. Obviously working for you. Shining leather, polishing steel, caring for the horses. In return you teach me more on fighting and tactics, eventually I stand my vigils and take on a knighthood. She gave a light shrug. He asked as if he thought she might give another answer. What other answer would there be? When the bar maid came by, her breasts nearly falling out of her dress as she leaned over Jacqueline leaned away some. Wine if you please m'lady and whatever Sir Friderick wishes. Since I am late it seems only fair to buy a round. Finished with the bread she lay the knife down on the table, hilt towards Friderick. All the while she hadn't looked up to him, keeping her eyes focused on the task. The bread was cut into neat and equal pieces. You know, despite your recent victories I have not heard much about you, Sir Friderick, or of Alnerwick. Has the peace done well for your land? Our farms have been quite prosperous in Lancaster of late. Lancaster was a fine, sweeping group of prosperous shires. It was well known for its barely as well as its horses. Particularly the ones bred at Lord Eammon's estate. A hobby of his since growing too aged for tourneys.