08-22-2010, 07:07 AM
Naerwen froze, just as Tess did. Her heart was in her throat and she felt sick to her stomach. She looked up to the man who grabbed Tess. It was his fault and to be spared the whip, she would point fingers at him. She looked to the lady and her companion, but her mouth just opened and closed like a fish. She couldn't form words.
Lord Percival of Bercinia released Tess slowly and stepped up to his side. He set an arm on Tess's shoulder and leaned, just slightly, onto him. "What a shame," he grumbled in his deep voice, "...Quick. Spit on it."
Lord Percival was a broad man. Everywhere. He had a broad chest, broad shoulders. He was a large man. His legs were long and powerful and his arms were thick and strong. He was old, but handsome in the eyes of some young ladies. His dirty blonde hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail that swayed in the light breeze. His gray eyes moved to the Duchess and her guardian as she approached and he straightened up. Placing a hand over his heart, he bowed slightly to her.
"My Lady, the man whom that tunic belongs to is little more than a cowardly bully. ...Quick, before someone sees you doing something vulgar!" he said with a devilish grin, "Spit on it."
Percival seemed to be greatly enjoying himself and with a laugh, he reached over and gently pushed Naerwen's jaw up to close her mouth, "Easy, girlie. Keep it open any longer and you might catch an insect."
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