Snippet #2398051

Calvin's plan had backfired horribly. He opens his mouth, very briefly, to protest. That would be a terrible idea however, so he closes it and bows his head in full respect. He shaped up in an instant; no longer a challenging young man, he was a Knight, who would do his duty.

He did find it amusing that the man thought his actions were for Cordelia's affections. Not that he didn't like her, of course he did, but it was more a thing of honor than anything else. Still, he could use that, another time, when he wasn't being a Magistrate's Guard.

"No harm shall befall you while I am by your side," Calvin says, with complete solemnity and honesty, kneeling before the Magistrate and placing a hand on the pommel of his blade, even as he accepted the pouch of coin with the other. "And not word nor allusion shall be made to this, henceforth." Charismatic bastard.

He worried about Cordelia's fate. She would be safe from any external threat, of that he was certain- but he didn't know if he could keep her safe from Selwyn, or himself safe from her.

He stands when Selwyn decides they would leave, falling in at his side. His shield was on his back- as it ever was- and so he was as prepared, following Selwyn. He casts about briefly for Naya, but he could not see her. A brief pang of regret reminded him he promised he would not leave her at the party, but, well, when a Magistrate ordered you to be his personal bodyguard, one did not wait.

---

Naya skipped a beat when the man actually called her Ser. While many outside the order thought the title reserved for Male knights, it was in truth an honorific for those of noble bearing, male or female. That made her warm to the man more than any compliment on her name ever could.

"Th... thank you," she says at length, both to the compliments and the offers of food. She helps herself to the food he offered, though abstained from the drink. She didn't plan to let her guard down that much.

She ate in a quiet, efficient manner, as he broke into his spiel about the works. She had seen the armorers at work, and could attest to his words; it was a mark of his skill that one cannot simply start over, as a 'lesser' craft might. She didn't want to be, but she did find herself enraptured in the speech, and soon she had almost forgotten of her food when he spoke of the sorts he made his crafts for.

When he had finished, she had a very light, almost unnoticeable smile on her face. "That is in truth fascinating," she says, trying to maintain the illusion of relative disinterest; she was in actuality completely enthralled.

"Sparrow Hands," she then asks, curious about the term as she looks at his hands. He had one in his coat, which brought her away from the simpering maid she felt she had revealed for a moment. Placing her hardened mask back on, to some degree, she looks him over briefly, looking for signs of deception or ill intent. He was nervous, clearly, but something about his posture told her it not of a hostile sort.

Snapping her eyes to his when he speaks again, she stares at him for a moment. She didn't think he was much of a threat, so she obliges and comes to stand next to him, tilting her head in curiosity as he prepares for the big reveal.

That bauble broke her flimsy charade of disinterest. Covering her mouth to lessen the shocked, awed gasp, she leans in to look upon it more closely. "It's... beautiful," she says, a word she scarcely used. She didn't dare touch it. Even if it were not his most prized craft- even if she chanced upon it lying in the road- she felt almost unworthy of it. Her eyes told all; she very much desired to have it, even to wear it for a moment, but she did not speak her desire.

In her minds eye, though, she saw herself wearing that breathtaking thing. She could woo any man she wanted wearing that, she imagined...