Cheers greeted his ears and disgust flooded him as memories of a much larger crowd intruded on his mind unbidden and unwelcome. Hundreds of people cheered as he and his surviving men marched back to the capital a small fraction of the size they'd been when they had marched out years before. As if all that death was something to be happy about. The king spoke of honoring the fallen heroes and their sacrifice, and everyone cheered louder... almost like they were glad they hadn't made it back.
His painful flashback came to a halt as the host of the event approached the fake him and congratulated him loudly, claiming it was safe to assume he had won the competition and servants untied the buck and heaved it off. She tossed the fox at a man who dared to stare and his attention quickly diverted to the task of carrying the animal over to be weighed. Then the host asked which lady he wished to dedicate his kills to; as was tradition.
Clearing her voice roughly then talking in a low gruff voice, she declared "None. Give it all to the local orphanage and poor house." she declared confidently "Tis' too much for one lady to eat." she added and the men began to laugh. He rolled his eyes and a slight grin tugged at his scar. As he neared she kept to her word and quickly bowed out. No one stopped her as she headed toward the tent furthest off to the side.
After he'd deposited his deer and untied the litter from his horse he headed towards the tent anxious to get away from all the curious stares.
He stood outside the tent as if to guard it, not sure if he should go in since she might be changing but a bit worried she would have fled before he could catch back up to her, never to be seen or heard from again. Was she really Earl Calloay's daughter? If she was, he would at least be able to track her down again if she got away, but what if she wasn't?
"Are you in there?" he asked.
"Ah yes, but I, ah I'm still changing," she said nervously.
Was she nervous because she was trying to escape or because she was worried he would walk in on her while indecent? "I'll be waiting outside for you," he stated both as assurance, he wouldn't barge in and as a warning that he wasn't going to let her disappear just yet.
A moment later she whispered nervously from right behind him on the other side of the tent flap, a jolt of fear flashed through him at someone so close behind him that he couldn't see but he managed to remain outwardly calm taking just a small step further from the tent flap.
"Um, could I ask you for a quick favor?" she asked nervously.
"Considering helping you might also help me at this point in time, I may be willing to grant you one."
"Could, could you come in here and, and tie this… please?" she asked sheepishly.
Had her arm bandage fallen off? "As you wish, my lord." he joked and ducked inside.
It was darker in the tent even with the oil lamps but he could still see a hint of color flush the side of her face and ear, as he walked further in. When he turned to face her she kept her head turned, casting sideways glances at him rather than looking at him directly. Her makeshift bandage however sat firmly in place.
Did she need it untied to change it? It certainly didn't go with the dress, which changed her appearance completely… Her upper body seemed half the size he'd previously estimated and she suddenly had a lot more curves than he'd noticed before. But… she'd said tie, not untie, hadn't she?
"The ties can be difficult normally but, but with my arm… I, I'm unable to do it on my own…" she said in defeat, turning her back to him and displaying the ties hanging from the back of her dress. A thin sliver of smooth skin ran halfway down her back in an enticing way the matrons would be scandalized over if they saw.
Now her embarrassment made more sense, and he was glad she wouldn't be able to make out his reaction. Hesitantly he took the ties and began tightening them a little without touching her.
"It has to be, tight… so, so that, that it doesn't fall down…" she prompted sounding as embarrassed as he felt, he was also a bit afraid of hurting her if he pulled too tightly. It was impossible to pull it tighter without touching her, but she was the one who'd asked so hopefully she wouldn't be upset by it. When he got to the top he tied it in a knot and stepped back.
"Thank you," she said in a small voice as she reached for her shawl to hide her upper arms.
"Wait. You're bleeding again" he said pointing to the small trail of blood dripping down her arm."
"Oh, I probably reopened it while trying to tie my dress" she muttered offhandedly.
"Hold still," he commanded and cut off the makeshift bandage with one of his smaller knives. He searched the room, the water bowl was filthy from her washing off the blood, dirt, and sweat before changing then he saw a goblet of wine near a plate of barely touched food. Finding her discarded black blouse shirt he ripped another piece off of it and dipped it in the wine.
She held out her arm so as not to drip blood on her nice dress and he carefully cleaned out the wound again, removing the old blood moss and replacing it with some extra he'd kept in his pocket, a habit from the war to always grab some extra when you could find it. It was already much better than before but he found himself still worrying about a scar marring her thin arm.
Using a smaller strip of shirt this time he bandaged her arm again, then after a brief look, he took out his handkerchief and tied it over the black, thinking that the silky blue and white looked a little less out of place than a torn and frayed scrap of black cloth. He'd seen other girls wearing similar garments around their wrists that also clashed with their dresses so it should be fine. It was likely some odd new fashion statement. "That will look less suspicious," he said stepping back to view his work.
"I, ah, I'm… thank you." she managed and he could see the red tint to her ear even in the poor lighting as she looked away from him.
He still found it odd and a bit funny that she seemed so nervous about some things, yet she'd seemed so confident before she'd been discovered as a girl. He would never forget the barrage of curses that came out of her mouth before she truly took notice of him and accidentally outed herself. He had a feeling the calm and confident personality was more true to her true character than all the stammering and blushing before him now.
Spotting a smudge of blood and grime she'd missed by one pink ear that she probably couldn't see with the mirror he impulsively cleaned that off with a clean corner of the wine-soaked fabric, then looked for any other spots before noticing how entirely red her neck and face had become and he realized his mistake of familiarity.
"You'd missed some blood," he said awkwardly.
"Right…" she said her voice sounding strained.
Trying to change the subject he said. "After the diner party tonight, find me by the southeast corner of the gardens, I'll have a real doctor look at your arm then," he said.
"Yes, Your Grace," she said bowing her head, likely more to hide her expression than out of respect he thought.
He stepped out of the tent and scanned the area. "It's all clear," he said softly through the tent flaps and she snuck out her shawl wrapped around her shoulders and a sun hat hiding her face, as she slipped away into the mass of people practically unnoticed.