Stephen
Maren
Barrmount Village

Maren scooted back onto the stool again, facing him with her hands folded in her lap.

"Coh... C... C... F.. Fo-" She paused, mouthing the word a few times. "Fo-cus." She said. It felt weird in her mouth, the word. She smiled a little though, holding her hands out. "Please?" She begged for the tea.

To her, it was leaf soup. Boil anything in water and it was soup to her. But she will call it tea around Shaydrin, because she was a good child.
Ramiro
Sir Shaydrin Skagerlly
Barrmount Village

He nodded. "Good," He said softly, and handed her the cup. The tea was black, piping hot, and still steaming lightly into the air. "It seems you might just have a mind to focus."

He leaned back, and set about pouring his own cup. "When you're older, what kind of man do you think you'd want to marry? A brave warrior? A fine prince? An honest cobbler? Tell me."
Stephen
Maren
Barrmount Village, The Iron Plaines

Maren smiled at his somewhat nice words, and she took a sip, burning her tongue but not stopping to save it. It tasted nice, better than a lot of things. 

She looked at him as she asked his question, and she looked off afterward to think about it. "Mm... Well... My papa told me that... I wasn't a real girl. I am uhm... A tool." She shrugged. "I wasn't allowed to think about it, he could reads my head, sometimes." She held the warm cup, lacing her fingers together.

"I want to marry... Mmm... Someone who..." She furrowed her brow. "Someone strong, who can... Uhm..." She shrugged. "Someone tall and strong. I guess they can be princes, or warriors, or cobblers."
Ramiro
Sir Shaydrin Skagerlly
Barrmount Village, the Iron Plaines

Shaydrin pouted as the girl talked about her father. Clearly this pitiful thing in front of him was the result of years of neglect and manipulation, all sense of self-worth scooped out with a cruel, rusty spoon. It reminded him of some of his bastard siblings.

"Tall and strong? So a man like my brother Mallsrek is the kind of man you'd like to marry?"
Stephen
Maren
Barrmount Village, The Iron Plaines

Maren smiled, chuckling. "Mmm, maybe tall and strong and *Nice*..." She added. "Someone... Who can protect me from the bad things." She traced the line of the edge of the tea cup with her pinky, her tangled brown hair falling over her eyes.

"But that's selfish." She said quietly. A small smile still stayed, though.
Ramiro
Sir Shaydrin Skagerlly
Barrmount Village, the Iron Plaines

"You don't think Mallrek is nice?" He asked with slanted eyebrows. "Well, you're right. He isn't. In fact, he's a bloody monster." He was gazing into his tea now, his hands holding the cup in a crushing grip of bubbling rage. It subsided after a moment. "Poor Lady Sibyl doesn't get that choice. She'll have to marry my beast of a half-brother, or she'll have to die." He looked at her with a slight frown. "Marrying a nice, strong, tall man isn't going to save you. No matter how strong and tall he is, if he's 'nice', then he doesn't have what it takes to keep you safe from the bad things. The bad things only fear worse things than themselves."

He sneered at her rugged, scavanged clothes. Fixing a withering look on her eyes, he said, "And why would anyone want to protect you, anyway? Hm? What do you think justifies someone else putting *Themselves* At risk to keep *You* In one piece?"
Stephen
Maren
Barrmount Village

Maren's face fell as Shaydrin began telling her how the world really worked, and she watched him, her hands lowering slowly until the cup sat between her knees. She forced her shoulders to relax and allowed him to wither her with his violent gaze, and she met his eyes with a saddened look.

"Hm. Monsters don't have to be mean. They just have to... Know how to be a monster. Bad things can be mean, but the... That doesn't mean that someone who is nice can't stop them." She shook her head. "You think being nice is weak." She looked down.

"I'm not a real girl, I told you. It's selfish to say what you want, sire. I'm... My papa said I'm supposed to live to die alone after I... After I serve a purpose." She let it hang in the air, remembering her leaf soup and bringing it up to take another sip.