In time, everyone dispersed from the throne room. Those that went on to their houses did as they should, while those that remained in the castle stayed as they should.
Briceus, together with Elizabeth, mounted the castle grounds towards his bedroom. For some reason, Lizzie's initial reproach towards the man had casually divorced her heart. Perhaps, it was best they talked about it, she'd mused to herself instead. Also, she could not deny that learning of a possible planned homicide on his head did not cause her heart to tighten beneath her chest, she was in fact frightened out of her bones and she was only appeased partially from seeing him exude as much charisma as he did back in the courthouse. Still, the slight cut in his face, how had he gotten it? No, there was no sense in overthinking it. Clearly, it had been the result of the heated brawl. It was evidently a sword cut, a small wound but sure enough to leave a scar in his face. Elizabeth mused about it.
