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He needed to kneel.
He needed to Kneel!
HIs failure up until this moment to do so was both a stain upon his place was a peasant and that of the woman before him. A Damsel was far greater than he ever could be and thus should attend to her with all forms of care and honor. His failure to do so was sacrilege of the highest order. A tarnishing of the morality of Bretonnia that would start with him.
He forced himself. Pushing against the stiffness of his body that was waging a war against his mind. He could only compare what he felt now to the times in which Morr’s Terror gripped him. When his body was unwilling to move because of the sheer horror that he was experiencing infesting him.
It was sudden. He could feel the snapping of something tense and strong when he finally started to bend his knees towards the ground. His muscles seemed to bruise as their protest were suddenly shattered and sent flying into Morr’s dirt below him.
Lucian could feel the refreshing of the water upon his dirt covered pants. There was no real discomfort for this was where he belonged. He was a Peasant and she was beyond even a Nobleman. Rumored to have been trained by the Fae Enchantress herself, a Damself was second only to Grail Knights in the hierarchy of Bretonnia.
He stood there for several beats of his pulsing heart. He was expecting to hear her feet paddle against the dirt as she did not pay any attention to the man that was he. That when the shadows eclipsed another shard of grass that he would be free to resume his duties.
From the corner of his vision he noticed her shoes. Not only had they stopped moving but they had turned to face him. She was looking at him.
Fear crept within his being and in the next sudden twist he spoke, “Damsel of the Lady, I beg you to forgive me for my impertinence! I have been ensnared by your beauty that has no peer or parody. For that, I seek penance.”
“Penance,” The words were swiftly carried through the air with what could be described as fluff. The sweetness of a berry made it into the voice a human could speak, “Rise, peasant, so that I may see who I exact my judgment upon.”
A powerful command Lucian could not deny no matter how little sense it made. His feet soon rooted themselves once again upon the ground as Lucian stood to as great a height as possible.
As if a spell was broken, he realized that the Damsel was shorter than he. So great a pedestal he placed the woman upon that such a fact seemed unearthly.
