Dammit, Henry cursed to himself silently at the mention of the princess.
Thinking that he was covered in dirt and grime, he had to resist finding a cloth and wiping himself off. He wanted the princess to see him at his best but instead, he had to see her with unclean armor and dust from traveling all over his face.
Much to his chagrin, the line of travelers slowly kept moving forward and he had no choice but to keep his posture straight and follow the large group. He didn't want to see the princess in the state he was in but it was out of his hands.
He thought of how the women blushed at his appearance, likely wondering how someone could get so filthy. He wondered if they could tell he was a peasant right away.
However, as he looked around, most of the men in his vicinity were as tanned or filthy as him, the peasant. He wasn't sticking out because he looked different from the others. It caused him to agonize over what it could be.
