Sir LoverHe saw Sir Nemean's frown as he turned to see who called him such a name. Very good, Sir. He thought to himself. As he reached the knight in sour armor, the bard gave a gracious and exaggerated bow. "Is she keeping you waiting too, my lord? How women play with our hearts, this one especially." He grinned a knowing grin. "Tell me Sir, what brings you to our darling lady? ~Maron
Standing around and waiting had aggravated his wounded shoulder. The people milled around almost mindlessly or so it seemed to Nemean and he had to pay attention to any of them that came close enough to bump into him. Something he really didn't want to happen. The constant attention wore on him and now this figure appeared.
Looking the bard over Nemean noted the instrument, the somewhat foppish tints and of course the self-indulgent smirk. ''She invited someone like you?'' He coldly dropped on the commoner. ''The lute had me confuse you for a Bard, not a Jester.''
After a moment Nemean decided against further antagonizing Maron. ''You are in her service?'' His eyebrows arched. ''She hasn't played with anything to be fair.'' He discovered this was harder to talk about than he had anticipated. ''Quite the opposite actually. It was quite clear what she thinks and wants.'' Not wishing to elaborate on the subject. Nemean looked up at the tower. Spying several neatly placed windows. One above the other.
''I might've arrived early.'' He turned his gaze to the bard. ''The army only just returned from their successful battle in Eldoret and Brive.'' The tone of his voice continued to lose much of its original edge. ''But yeah,'' He swallowed. ''She asked me to meet her here. Would you know if she's in?''
