pxellae:

       ‹« ✿ »› ——      ❝ wouldn’t you feel the same, stranger? ❞

previous friends gone with husbands 20 years their superior with children, a love that
left her for to participate in her adopted uncle’s crusade in the holy lands. she was a
truly lonely woman, even when in the company of her subjects. behind the facade of
kindness & justice was a broken woman stuck in nobility, relying on the small talks to
her servants to please the loneliness that plagued her, that creaked in her bones & was
stuck in her thoughts.

the men looked to her as a jewel, as property, rather than a person. her once closest
friends look down upon her with shame for a lack of a husband & children, for her
rebellious streaks to free herself from being chained, to help the people suffering by
the hand of her uncle john. it left her barren, but allowed her to retain her pride.

           ❝ —— if the only people who respected you & loved you truly were off to war? ❞

                 He had meant to rob her this day. Under the guise of a simple, poor villager had he come to her house. He had been a strange sight to behold as walked past boys and women on the fields, a young man himself, and yet not gone off to war. Able hands and strong arms were in high demand these days, but Bard was not in search of work. Easier coin was what he desired, coin and gems and letters of worth to those who thought themselves high and mighty and, most of all, safe from men like him. Those days would soon be gone.

             But here, she, this lady– Sadness filled the deep pools of her eyes, and though her garb was finely made, it was simple in its design, modest, humble, reminiscent of the dresses female servants wore these days. An unusual sight, for she was obviously high-born. The blade of his dagger felt cold on the skin of his back, whispering to him, but he could not draw it, not now, not with her. Later. He would find the coin later, and return to Sherwood victorious. And guilt-ridden, no doubt. “Is there no one left, my lady? None here you love, who love you? Your people speak quite kindly of you. There is the respect you seek, I should think.” Sincere sympathy sounded in his voice. Such an unusual day it was turning out to be.