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Scyld
Scyld had watched Rowenna approach with an indolent smirk on his face. Thought she’d had Eodwine wrapped around her little finger, did she? Well, apparently she wasn’t the only one with her eyes set on the Eorl, though he didn’t know where Saeryn’s interest had come from. And though from his distance he couldn’t hear the exact words, the raised female voices spoke for themselves, and clearly Rowenna had come out on bottom.
He did not understand at first why she was coming to him – to complain? Frankly, her plight amused him. But she wiped the smirk clear off his face when she stepped right up to him and slapped him across the face. Hard.
Of all the illogical - !
Utterly bewildered, he stared after her for a moment as she strode away. Anger sparked briefly before giving way to condescension. So she was leaving then? Not competing to go off and sulk because she could not have her way? And he’d thought she had tenacity.
“So that’s it, then?” he called after her. “You’re just giving up?” He laughed shortly, harshly. “And I thought you were made of tougher mettle than that.”
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