The Rouge Bride

This is where you sleep?

        After the dinner, a maid escorted Thorict to her sleeping chambers- a room attached to his, one of four he never used. The women left, and the men where left to themselves, discussing the varied topics at hand; horses, land yeild, rouges, the lot and whatnot. He wasn't a heavy drinking man, yet he carried the tradition of drinking after dinner, but with very watered down port. He was still thinking about her. He was right about her not finding a husband- that would proove a heavy challenge to even the best matchmakers. 

        Maybe he should attempt to befriend her? "Befriend who Mayrayght?" Had he spoken out loud?

        "Aye. The girl we took from the woods," he replied. 

        "Where did ye lock her up? I heard she was a sight," another man asked. There was a deep, long, hearty laugh from the collective group of men, except Lawric. 

        "She isn't locked up like a bear gentlemen," he rose from his chair while picking up his glass and glared between the two men that looked brazenly at her, "She was my guest at this evening's dinner," He then made his way to the kitchen. 

        Lawric was going to do something nice for her, he reasoned. He knew she only picked at her food because of lack of mannerisms, so he decided to fix her a plate of food and bring it to her. He was thinking with his head down while walking. As he entered the kitchen, the usual greetings and courtseys were made. He stopped at the table piled high with uneaten food, with the usual feeling of disgust. 

        Lawric picked up a plate and noticed a youth helping the women with the cleanup. This was a youth he hadn't reconized, but, he thought, familiar. "Boy, who are ye?" 

        The boy turned around while taking a bit of a bread roll. "Shall it be, wench, who are ye?" Thorict said mockingly. She somehow got her men's garb back. He will have to have a chat with his guard staff. 

        "I left you alone for an hour!" he bellowed. The women, full of shock looked from Throict to Lawric. They hadn't realized that was the beauty the men had rescued that sat with them at dinner. He stalked over to her, the others backing away. 

        "Aye, over an hour."

        "Where did you get your clothes?" he was in her face. 

        "I am a cerious creature. I looked about. I know as well that ye chambers are connected to mine," she was leaning against a table, still eating the roll. 

       "So you donned your garb so I wouldn't rape you?" he was confused, a slow throb of disapointment that she would think of him as such was in the background, while anger erupted within him. 

        She laughed at him, "No, I wanted out of that contraption. I naught breathe right," she turned to the counter once more to pick up a piece of meat. and looked back at him. "I wanted you to know that I knew that, so if I felt inclined to kill you, I knew where ye slept."

        "That is reasuring," he rolled his eyes.

        "Aye. We need to be on the same page. I will tell you when I will kill you. Now, I tolorate you," another gaurd walked in and she gestured to him with a fork, "and ye men."

        "Tolorate?" he asked in a challenging tone.

        "Aye."

        "What you mean tollorate?"

        "Look," she stabed the fork into the table with one thrust, "I naught just walked upon here one day and say, oh look, such a lovely place to rest me head. I was taken here like a prisoner. I naught heard a reason, other than to marry me off."

        "Tis the reason," he answered. 

        "No," she plucked out the fork from the wood and gestured to him, with every word a step closer to him. "That. Will. Not. Work."

        "Do ye wish to be undesirable?" Lawric had stood his ground with Thorict a step away. 

        A lewd grin spread to a smile, "I thought I already was."

        "No, you are wanted," he thought back to the men that stared at her exposed cleavage. 

       She leaned closer to his face, closing the space between them. She was a breath away from his ear. "I will work on that then," she stabbed the fork over his head into the wooden pillar above his head. She smiled again his way, a devilish thing, and walked away. He closed his eyes, and once he opened them again, the cook staff and maid were staring in shock and awe. Lawric turned and looked at the fork. He saw a few strands of his locks embedded within the wood. He tried to pry it out, taking three full strength tugs. 

        Again, he sulked and stalked out of the room muttering, "That wench might literally be the death of me."