<em>"He is, an artist that is. Lady Lorraine has spoken of him, he's quiet the fashion these days, if that makes you feel any better? He's a Knight as well, are you not glad now I declined to turn you into a beast when I slayed those words for you?" </em><br/><br/>He didn’t know what to say to that. No, it didn’t make it any better, knowing the man hadn’t lied on that count. He could tell her how knights were only chivalrous in her cherished books, but she was trying to comfort him. Why, he didn’t quite understand, but he smiled slightly at the reminder of the embarrassing, sweet afternoon. “Maybe you should have, so he wouldn’t…” He stopped, not wanting to finish. What was he, a child? He couldn’t complain, it had been his choice. His.<br/><br/>He smiled at her, briefly, feeling it tug on his scars, hiding his fear. “Would you tell me his name, if you know it? I missed the introduction.”<br/><br/><em>"I'll take nothing from it though, whatever money he's offering should go to you. You know I don't hurt for clients and if money is your reason for this then I would not deny you even a cooper of what is yours. Just...be careful with yourself dear friend, even if the money is tempting."</em><br/><br/>“Fiona,” he murmured, exasperated with her refusal of compensation. “How can I say thank you when you won’t let me?” He was about to try to persuade her when Anel’s fury bubbled over again, loud and abrasive and ugly. Atticus looked towards the boy, then hissed to Fiona, “What happened to him? He’s usually so happy when Lord Aldrich visits.”<br/>