<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #40FF40"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Martine Karembeux</span><br/><span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">The youngest daughter of Sir Damian</span></span></span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i1343.photobucket.com/albums/o793/Galvin_Fugazi/d5668922-425e-4e73-8f97-dd73233101dd_zps99f99557.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Martine had been surprised when Sir Abel had responded to her kiss and it made her blush again, leading to some more snickers by the people nearby. She wasn't angry on Sir Abel, after all she had played quite the prank on him and he deserved a kiss for taking it so manly. He seemed to wait on her answer on his question. She nodded and gave him a wink. <br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">“If you are man enough to take up your opponent I will cheer for you. Of course if you lose, I won't, that would be too embarrassing.”</span><br/><br/>Martine watched him walk away with the bouncy way only happy people managed. She turned to Iris, curious what her gift had been.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">“Ah, your brother is a fine guy. I just hope that he is the one I have to marry. What did you get from him? He seemed so eager to show you, I guess it must have been something special.”</span><br/><br/>Martine was in some hyperactive mood now. It often happened to her when she was full of joy. Her fingers caressed the dagger in her hand, playfully flicking it right and left.</div>