The instant Ashlynn mentioned having Marcel take Sir Rain's sword away, the portly knight's face immediately drained of color and his hand left the hilt of his sword almost before he realized it. Seeing the way the young man smiled at him, as if he couldn't wait for an opportunity to come close to him again, only made the feeling worse as he sheepishly returned to his place on the tailgate of the wagon.
Sir Rain tried to return to his posture of bored indifference, but no matter how much he tried to look like he wasn't bothered, he couldn't help but feel incredibly tense and on edge. It wasn't just the threat of unleashing the knife wielding merchant on him that bothered him. It was the way that everyone here, from the hunter Eamon or the Constable, Daithi and most especially Lady Ashlynn herself, had reacted to his threat.
