And that concludes this particular storyCutting Words "Know your place, Sir Nemean", said Smiddich, standing. He was broad, in only a shirt, boot and breeches, his long dark hair tied back with silver clips and a scar the length of his face, "It is at the bottom for now. In time, your service, as well as your name, will stand you in good stead in this nation. There are many, myself included, who owe your father a debt." ~Smiddich Fontaine
The careful vulnerability that had previously won over Nemean's baser anger recoiled from the brief barrage from the Duke. His face registering shock before likewise retreating behind pride. Hard and angular. A cleanly shaven chin rose slowly. There was no time to respond however. Words flowed from Smiddich like a rising tide. About the North, about Perdan and about Redemption. It was hard to dislike the impassioned words. Young green eyes softened as the Pirate Lord spoke of his father. Among those words, Praise, something that was seldom his. It made him feel awkward. It didn't sting but his reaction was akin to warding off a blow. Shuffling a step backwards.
As the Duke finished, another promise hung in the air. Protective and enshrined in a proverbial wreath of defiance. Nemean nodded, this he could understand.''I, I would never give up the City of my father.'' It took a moment before the next set of words came to him. ''Apologies for calling you by your name. It wasn't meant as disrespect. In Xavax it is a sign of respect when you are familiar. I thought..'' But he didn't finish the sentence. Instead Nemean nodded to himself and took a more formal pose. Bowed and proceeded to leave the room.
As he pulled the door shut behind him, these words escaped his lips: ''Thank you.''
