Thread: Squire's Secret (Benny and Gunner)

Utterly vile. Jacqueline could hardly believe her eyes and ears. The sad, soppy, simpering look such a man like Friderick gave to this lady Auraine. This could hardly be the same man who battered her day and night as she struggled to hold a shield. It was impossible this was the same man who goaded her into a fight and promptly threw her into the dirt by her neck. Yet there he was, ignorant of the distant simper on the ladys face. How, as he spoke, she seemed to hear and comprehend one word in ten. Jacqueline was flabbergasted. Utterly dumbfounded. What was so special about her anyways? Sure she was pretty, Jacqueline supposed. If one liked the foppy, frilly, flouncy sort of woman. With weak arms and a weaker brain. Auraine seemed to recognize the Lancaster sigil but Jacqueline was at a loss for who the woman was. Clearly not even in any sort of higher echelon of society. Why on Gods good green earth did Friderick simper at her like a love sick calf? Stroking the mane of her horse, praising her apparent beauty, pledging to win in her name. Jacquelines guts roiled with poison and fire. It was sickening. Enough so she felt she might retch their meager breakfast. Mmm? Oh yes, Friderick, the lady Auraine said absently. As Friderick talked she glanced about, occasionally looking down at the man stroking her horses mane. Such a sweet, handsome man. She giggled politely as he spoke of her beauty. Yes, she was beautiful and deserved beauty all around her. The praise was honey to her ears. At least he was well spoken. Not like those other loutish brutes. Knights, so common and coarse. It was a time of peace, why did men feel the need to get so filthy and sweaty? She noted his hand drifting closer to her and she edged her leg a little out of the way. She couldnt get her finery mussed. Who knew what he had been doing with that hand before. He requested a favor of her. She supposed he had done well enough in the past. Of course she knew his tale. Such a delight to the peasants of the world to hope and aspire to. It kept their spirits high she supposed. Her eyes drifted to the banner, held by a young Lancaster. The emblazoned roses to show off his victories so he could win his lands and titles. Impressive but where was the lineage? A poor country baron. Shame that. A favor you saywell she didnt even have time to mull over the potential of his victory she could hardly give her favor to a man who might not win. Instead a loud, singing voice caught her attention. Auraines face lit up as she turned to look. Jacquelines jaw dropped at the sight of the new arrive. Resplendent as a peacock in fine silk and leathers. His waving, sandy hair perfectly coiffed and brilliant green eyes alight with merriment. Distantly she knew of this count, though even he might consider himself fortunate to attend the events her family participated in regularly. A fop through and through. The sort of man who would send every barely able bodied man to war while remaining safe and warm within his keep. Her eyes darted between the three. She saw Fridericks crestfallen frown and Auraines unbridled delight. Jacqueline could hardly believe what she was seeing. Were there women who honestly preffered such a foppish man over a man of strength? It would seem so. How had she never noticed this before in her times in court? She had to dig back in her memory to the idle chatter of the women. Perhaps there were some that had a preference for the perfumes lords over warriors? She couldnt fully remember. Count Theodore! She called back, Friderick utterly forgotten. Now there was a fine man. Clean and well dressed. Not some lout who swung sword about. He made for a fine figure upon his noble steed. A man made for songs and gentle touches. Her skin prickled excitedly as he called her my Auraine. She enjoyed the idea as much as she loved the offer of a special silk merchant. With a little nudge she turned her horse, uncaring if hoof or flank barreled the knight over. Her attendants followed obediently, avoiding casting their gaze to the quickly forgotten Friderick. Her horse sidled right up to Theodore as she beamed at him. Oh the feel of new, fine silks. Perhaps we could see about matching silks, she said suggestively as the entire company began ambling away. For a brief moment she remembered the man of her childhood. She turned just a little to look at Friderick over her shoulder. Enjoy your joust Fredegar, she called back. Just the briefest of moments before she turned to her new distraction in Theodore. The Count grinned from ear to ear. He turned a little in his saddle to give Friderick a wicked, sly grin. Oh my Auraine such radiance are you this day, he said while staring down Friderick as they rode away. He even reached out to brush a lock of her ebony hair while Auraine giggled in delight, still babbling about silk colors and patterns. With the pair gone Jacqueline approached Friderick. She stared at him a moment before heaving a long sigh. The poor, sad man. She was at least glad Auraine was gone from the site. That sick, simpering expression of his was disgusting as much as it was painful. Why did she care that much? Mostly he looked a fool. Why should it matter? If he wished to behave to ridiculously around the woman it was no business of hers. Still there was a small, smoldering flame in her guts at the recent memory. Are you well, sir? She finally managed to ask him. Jacqueline was bursting with questions. Was she supposed to be his bethrothed? No, that couldnt be. She wouldnt have treated him so indifferently and gone off with another man. Just a woman he was sweet on? More than sweet by that sad interaction. To him she was a goddess present on earth. Her guts clenched and flamed painfully at that tought. Why? That was peculiar. How about that drink then? And I swear I shall not even speak to a barmaid this time, she said with a strained, attempted laugh. As she tried to guide him away she couldnt help but stare. The same question, over and over, burst through her mind. She wanted to ask but how could she? She didnt want to seem strange or in any way the jealous type. Then it dawned on her. She wasnt her. Not to Friderick. She was still just Jacque. Good Lord how could she have forgotten? Sirif I maywhat is it about the lady you fancy so much? Beg pardon butthere are other women whomight be more, ah, compelled by yourahcharms. That is to say, of course, the idea of courting a woman are a little beyond me, she added quickly with an awkward laugh. That was good, just be the awkward young man with little experience with women.