He whirled her through the steps his face a clearly bemused grin as the last measures of the song faded. "My Lady," He bows low, "May I be so bold as to compliment you on your agility?"
"I suppose you may," Brooke sniffed, "As long as you dispense with the formalities unless you are trying to get me killed."
"You wound me deeply," He bows lower, "I would not see your beauty wasted on death espescially if you are as light on your feet at the waltz as you were in the haythresher." "You wouldn't be asking me to dance again would you good sir?" Brooke grinned she couldn't help but like this man's audacity. It was clear he knew her for who and thus what she was and yet he wished to dance with her. "Mayhap if you tell me your name I will tell you my answer."
"My gracious queen, the name of your most humble servent is Brennan," He made a low sweeping bow, "And the truth mylady is that I was surprised to find you here I had heard tell that you were aloof perfering to reign from a distance."
"Brennan? You would not by chance happen to be Lord Brennan of Stone, the crown prince, would you?" So that is where his audacity springs from, anothor bloody noble, how disappointing.
"Unfortunately yes and lucky for you I am not here for propriety either. My question, Brooke, is why are you here instead of at the ball?" He grins.
"I find the nobility boring," I say simply, "And perhaps dancing with you is not quite torture perhaps you can dance better than that young rapscillion Matthew over yonder."
"Is that a yes then?" "Perhaps," she grins holding out her hand and curtsying. The band plays a waltz not the grand sweeping waltz of the nobles orchestra but a soft wondering melody. Brennen twirled her around the floor holding her close dipping her low and smiling his charming smile revealing a dimpled chin. Brooke had always imagined her prince charming as tall and dark with dancing golden brown eyes but instead as her body sawyed to the music his arm gently around her waist and the world fading Brooke knew that in an enemy she had found that spark she had been looking for.
So the girl before him was the one his father had sent him after. The Queen of Winds was a mere slip of a thing. Her willowy figure seemed out of place amongst the plump peasent woman of the city and her halo of riglets caught and held the golden red glow of the fire seeming to belong to the flames her green eyes laughed mockingly at the men who asked her to dance. The other woman in the room all stared with the eyes of Envy herself as she danced circles around them and beguiled the hearts of their lovers with her crystaline laughter. Brennan could not imagine seeing this mission to the end. He couldn't kill her regardless of the rules, of the fued that she alone seemed unaware of. When she had first seen him he had caught her eyes had seen the intelligence the knowledge that he was there for her and that he was to end her life this night and yet she had still danced with him.
Even now she shot him a come hither look, her green eyes smouldering under the red hued gold of her eyelashes. He quickly made his way over to her shouldering past the man named Matthew whom she had declared a rapscallion with twenty left feet. I could feel his auger like stare as I met her obviously he had began to think of her as his and I began to wonder if these peasents even knew what their queen looked like.
"You summoned?" Brennan says teasingly before dodging a playful slap.
"I called you over because the wind whispers of a plot," She lifts a wooden chalace to her lips sipping delicately on watermelon wine, "One concerning your death. Apparently Matthew has grown possesive of me recently. My advice we skeedaddle back to the palace before we're caught and forced to reveal our identities."
"Skeedaddle?" Brennan tries out the word rolling it around in his mouth before returning her somber gaze, "I have heard simular plots from the maids for you so we are to leave then yes?"
Brooke giggled, and he couldn't help but grin at how girlish she sounded even though reports held her to be a fearsome warrior, "Don't make fun of my vocabulary and don't worry about that cackling gaggle of geese! they really are all talk and no show sadly."
"Sadly? My lady fair what do you mean by sadly?" he was shocked did she actually want them to attempt something? Did she look forward to assassination attempts thinking them some grand game? "Merely this," She says leading him from the room and out to the stables, her horse had been the giveaway that had brought him here, a mare the color of midnight, he had stabled his white charger in the stall next to hers, "If war were to really break out I fear for the lives of my people."