Your red hair cascades down about your shoulders and back as you place the helmet beside the sword.
"It was bloomin' hot in that metal trap." You say, your voice rising with a gentle Irish lilt.
"Princess Emerald Leaffe, an honor." The king says as you quickly plait your hair and smile.
"They would never have served a woman." You say as you remove the chainmail gloves.
"They would serve whomever I instructed them to serve." The king says forcefully as you tilt your head slightly.
"Yes, highness, I believe they would." You agree.
"You shall not sit with them at the feast?" He asks casually as you gather your helm, gloves and sword together.
"I shall sit beside my father. He is unaware of my intents." You say as you make for the door.
"The ruse of your betrothal to my son shall not last long and remain believable." The king says.
"Then I had best be quick about finding the source of evil." You say as you reach the doors. You turn on your heel and face the king once more. Bowing stiffly at the waist, you straighten and replace the helm upon your head.
The king's amused chuckle follows you down the hall.
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