"No, sir", she shook her head, "A friend of mine asked me to come here with him, but he left for a nap and asked me to stay by until he returns and escorts me home."
"An uncommon place to bring a naïve companion as you", he said, folding his arms like he was struck by how irresponsible her companion was.
"Well, he was giving me immediate company all this while", the maiden tried. Just then, all the lamps were being lit for the dancers' performance. "So it's quite alright. He is a protective friend otherwise, there's no need to worry", she went on. Her voice was still in curdles, hitching in her throat.
The tall stranger's eyes shifted to the lights and with a quick nod to wat she was saying, he lent her a hand. "You should take a seat."
"R-right", she nodded, placing her soft hand in his large palm, realising that her nails were still shivering. Her body was jittery, since the tension that the creep had caused her hadn't left, although the new companion she had had a calming effect.
The damsel of long curly hair took the only available seat, while the hooded stranger took to leaning against the counter.
Soon, the women began dancing, receiving a great lively audience from the men at the tavern. And that was when Amelia noticed that the lights from the furnace and the lanterns were rendering the dancers' garments transparent, till the shadows of their body were visible against the light.
She looked over to glance at him, wondering if he had meant for her to be seated and prevent her skirts from being lit up, which could have had her feel embarrassed. A soft smile tugged at her lips when she noticed that his eyes were scanning the people in the room, barely even engaged by the beautiful dance.
Amelia wondered what his purpose was, for he had not drunk, nor seemed to be a familiar man from the locality. With such thoughts colouring her mind, she gazed about the place and its people, before a familiar couple caught her eyes.
It was Head Knight Erion, whose attention wasn't at the dance, but was completely devoted to the beautiful Charlene Walterus, who was present there next to him, talking ceaselessly. He was holding her hand passively and smiling as he nodded, gaze soft and pleased.
Amelia felt like a large stone had crushed her heart and pierced it through. It was difficult to tear her eyes away from the two, like she was memorising her heartache. She tried to swallow slowly, but felt her tears returning to the back of her eyes.
As she watched, the damsel felt someone's gaze upon her and looked up at her new hooded companion staring at her. "Is that your friend?" he asked, voice low.
The damsel sniffed, her chest inflating with air, before she exhaled slowly and smiled a bitter smile, saying, "No, no, this isn't him." she didn't want to be embarrassed. He stared at her for a moment longer, with a distant unsaid gaze, before turning his attention away.
Amelia looked down at her lap, feeling tears of hurt feelings spill down to her hands that were clutching folds of her skirt tight. She was grateful for her long and abundant hair falling about her and shielding her crying from the eyes of the people around.
Then, wiping her nose and eyes thoroughly, she looked up to see that Erion and Charlene remained the same, the knight's eyes drunk on love and fascination for the lady before him. Amelia slowly reached her hand to the cloak of the stranger who had helped has and tugged softly.
He looked over with an arched brow and she said, "I wish to go home. Thank you for helping me today."
The tall man pushed his weight off the counter and helped her down the tall seat. "I shall accompany you", he offered.
"No, no, it is quite alright, thank you. Please, I wouldn't want to trouble you any further", she said, before her mind tugged her with the thought of the eerie feeling of being watched. She didn't want to end up getting kidnapped on her way home.
"No, I insist", the man said, leading her protectively to the door. –whats your name, lance, what do u do, merchant, jasper where? Some men are standing about the corners of the streets, hooded, with weapons, he makes eye contact with them, shady. He leaves once she's near home.
While leaving her: "I am sorry your friend couldn't escort you home."
"No, it is quite fine; it isn't like he owes me anything."
There was a brow quirked.
"I-", Amelia hesitated to say the words, "He is nothing more than just a friend. We do not owe to protect each other, nor meant to."
The tall companion took a long hard gaze at her before nodding slow. His voice was husky as he spoke, "Will you be alright by yourself for the night?"
When the damsel opened her mouth to answer, her lips quivered and she did not speak, but simple nodded.
The man quietly opened his arms and she fell into his embrace, tears spilling onto his garments again. It was that old sensation where you could hold your emotions inside for as long as you stay strong, but once your fort is broken down by a friend, the tears wouldn't stop coming. "It was him", she mumbled against his chest.
The man did not say anything in response, but simply ran his hands through her soft hair.
Then, a glance shot across the street to one of the mysterious men loitering in the dark, and he took a swift step back and bowed, "I hope to meet you soon another time, m'dear." (my Queen)
Amelia felt heat spread over her neck and cheeks before she smiled and nodded, holding her skirts in a curtsy. His manners were regal and princely, making her wonder if he truly was a common merchant. Perhaps he was a distinguished gentleman from some distant kingdom, where protecting women was common culture?