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Nerwen · 03-24-2011, 08:42 AM

"Asta, can you please let go now? It hurts," said Sereth in an agonised whisper.

It was only then that Asta realised that under the strain of her valiant struggle to obey Brinn's orders and not say anything whatever at any point in this extraordinary meeting, she had been slowly tightening her grasp to the point of all but crushing the girl's hand.

She tried to keep her hastily muttered apologies out of the ears of the Master of Revels' son, but to no avail, judging from the quick, amused look he gave her.

Asta bristled at what she took to be the first sign of Sador's belittling aristocratic ways.

She really did not at all like the fact that they would have to deal with a noble at such close quarters– particularly not one who was sure to interfere with everything they did, and maybe force all kinds of unwelcome changes to the script. Who knew what would please a "noted scholar and thinker"? As if people like that ever went to plays in the first place! And then, the young lord was badly lame, and, by the way he dragged his leg, suffered from something much more lasting than a sprained ankle. That added a wholly different kind of awkwardness to the situation.

Asta just stopped herself from grimacing. Things were going to be very tricky in the days to come, very tricky indeed. True, they were not being marched off to prison, or likely to be, and instead had been offered a chance at success beyond any but her wildest daydreams– if all went well. There was the rub. Asta had already begun to imagine all the things that might not go well. With her naturally suspicious mind, she guessed there was much more to Lord Burlach's fair offer than appeared on the surface.

She was troubled, too, by this mysterious business of Aldarion's. Asta had always known, in a vague sort way of, that the playwright had what Brinn called "connections", but it was a different matter to see the proof before her eyes that he was not in truth one of them, but belonged in some measure to the remote world of lords and captains. And then, what could be in those letters? She would have to find out, whatever else might befall.

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03-24-2011, 08:42 AM	#11
Nerwen Wisest of the Noldor Join Date: Oct 2007 Location: ˙˙˙ssɐןƃ ƃuıʞooן ǝɥʇ ɥƃnoɹɥʇ Posts: 6,694	"Asta, can you please let go now? It hurts," said Sereth in an agonised whisper. It was only then that Asta realised that under the strain of her valiant struggle to obey Brinn's orders and not say anything whatever at any point in this extraordinary meeting, she had been slowly tightening her grasp to the point of all but crushing the girl's hand. She tried to keep her hastily muttered apologies out of the ears of the Master of Revels' son, but to no avail, judging from the quick, amused look he gave her. Asta bristled at what she took to be the first sign of Sador's belittling aristocratic ways. She really did not at all like the fact that they would have to deal with a noble at such close quarters– particularly not one who was sure to interfere with everything they did, and maybe force all kinds of unwelcome changes to the script. Who knew what would please a "noted scholar and thinker"? As if people like that ever went to plays in the first place! And then, the young lord was badly lame, and, by the way he dragged his leg, suffered from something much more lasting than a sprained ankle. That added a wholly different kind of awkwardness to the situation. Asta just stopped herself from grimacing. Things were going to be very tricky in the days to come, very tricky indeed. True, they were not being marched off to prison, or likely to be, and instead had been offered a chance at success beyond any but her wildest daydreams– if all went well. There was the rub. Asta had already begun to imagine all the things that might not go well. With her naturally suspicious mind, she guessed there was much more to Lord Burlach's fair offer than appeared on the surface. She was troubled, too, by this mysterious business of Aldarion's. Asta had always known, in a vague sort way of, that the playwright had what Brinn called "connections", but it was a different matter to see the proof before her eyes that he was not in truth one of them, but belonged in some measure to the remote world of lords and captains. And then, what could be in those letters? She would have to find out, whatever else might befall.