And again, she knows that he is speaking to the horse, and not to her; and it does not make sense, then, that she should feel the heat of embarrassment rising to the tips of her ears. In some ways, it is perhaps worse that he does not mean it as an accusation. Are you eager to be courted, love? It might as well be something she would say to herself, though in more mocking tones, under the circumstances. She could not say what has overtaken her this morning, what maidens' foolishness has found its way into her blood. She is the king's sister, the hero of the Pelennor Fields. This - this strange jealousy, this adolescent desire for his attention to turn back to her - is embarrassing.
"He has weathered a few rejections in his time, as well." The ice is gone from her voice, at least; her smile is rueful. She leads her mount out into the open air of the courtyard, glancing back at Sylvain over her shoulder as she vaults smoothly into the saddle. "It is the prerogative of any living thing to turn away unwanted suit, after all." Then, wrapping the reins around her pommel as she nudges Windfola towards the gate, "I thought we might ride down to the river. It is quiet there, this time of year."
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sforzinda
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Date: 2022-03-20 01:08 am (UTC)"He has weathered a few rejections in his time, as well." The ice is gone from her voice, at least; her smile is rueful. She leads her mount out into the open air of the courtyard, glancing back at Sylvain over her shoulder as she vaults smoothly into the saddle. "It is the prerogative of any living thing to turn away unwanted suit, after all." Then, wrapping the reins around her pommel as she nudges Windfola towards the gate, "I thought we might ride down to the river. It is quiet there, this time of year."