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Degas leaned against the doorway, propped carefully to look nonchalant. He eyed the girl until Eodwine coughed meaningfully. She turned an even deeper shade of red and Degas spoke, holding back a grin.
"Very pretty, I assure you. Your slender frame brings to mind the lovely swaying motion of a delicate lily in the early dawn air. Your eyes remind one of an impossibly deep ocean that one cannot help but fall into. Your light voice is reminiscent of the soft trill of a flute at the break of day and your cream skin is so flawless that I am amazed at its very existence, though at the moment, a very becoming shade of rose adorns your perfect cheeks. It utterly amazes me that such power and delicacy can be so easily mixed within one lady of the South. It is verily my pleasure to make your acquaintance."
He straightened from the doorway and bent now over her hand, raising it to brush with his lips. He looked up into her eyes, winking, and she looked away, the same vibrant shade of pink that he had so carefully described. Dropping her hand, he slung an arm around Eodwine's shoulder and led him away from the floored young woman.
"My congratulations to you, Lord of the Mark." he spoke to Eodwine as they walked toward the kitchen. "A posting well deserved. I would commend the king for it were I not afraid of the repercussions of my terribly bold statements. I'm sure you'll understand if I limit myself to mere genial thoughts sent toward his general direction? Also, Lord Eodwine, I must thank you for your kindness to my lady sister. She has told me what you have done for her and I am much indebted to you for it."
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