[[PRIVATE]] The Color of My Love

[The English Major]

The Color of My Love

A Private RP Between

The English Major

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[The English Major]

Quinn placed a gentle hand on the neck of the horse and bent down to whisper towards his ear, her green eyes squinting against the sun.

“Thank you, my friend,” she said. “You traveled well.”

Dismounting, Quinn once again marveled at the size of the animal. He was a head taller than any horse Quinn had ever come across, and broad, resembling a baby elephant, at times, more than the steed he was. His coat glimmered jet black without any sign of contrast color, making him all the more intimidating. As the woman dismounted, he looked back to her as if to say: Well done yourself, my little Knight.

Quinn approached the young stable boy who looked up at her in wonder.

“Take excellent care of this animal,” she said, flipping a gold coin into his dirty palm, perhaps more money than he had seen in a lifetime. “I want him washed, brushed, fed, well stored, and given plenty of water. Am I understood?”

The boy looked at the heavy broadsword the woman carried in her belt as he nodded vigorously. “Yes, mi’Lady,” he managed to say.

Quinn laughed heartedly, crossing her arms over her muscular chest. “That’s Sir, I believe,” she said, flashing a wide smile. “And the horse’s name is Sultan. Goodbye to you both.”

Casting one long look back to her animal—the finest, she knew, she’d ever come across—Quinn then turned her attention to the castle before her. It was formidable, as these things go. Quinn had been to a number of different realms, though had never ceased to be amazed at architecture. The capacity of man’s achievement astounded her as she looked up at the wide, circular towers and peaked roofs. If she had not become an accomplished swordsman (swordswoman, more appropriately), she might have liked to build structures such as these.

At the wide entrance, she noted a small group of aspiring noblemen practicing at swords. Squires all, she thought. As she came closer, she could see the look of puzzlement on their faces, a look with which Quinn was all too familiar.

“Gentlemen,” she said. They had all paused in their practice to behold her.

Quinn was not a tall woman, though not terribly short. One could easily see the curvature of muscles beneath her breeches and in the arms of her black tunic. Her face was amiable, though not what one would consider in the standard of beauty to be terribly attractive; her features, it could not help but be noted, were perhaps more masculine then feminine: square jaw, long, sturdy nose. Of course, it was easy to see the masculine side of a woman dressed in men’s attire and having none of their usual adornments.

Her hair, however, was worn long in the fashion of women, a great tangled mass of red curls growing down her back and over her chest. It nearly covered the insignia of her coat of arms patched to her shoulder, though the men could clearly see it marked her status: Sir Quinn O’Robertson of Dralion.

They bowed low to her after much hesitation, and Quinn gave them a nod of acknowledgement before she walked quickly up the staircase and into the castle entrance. It was not that a female warrior was unheard of. There were plenty of stories about them—mostly wild assertions that they lobbed their right breast or roasted men on spikes. One particular female knight, Kara Drevon the Blind Amazon, was a favorite among young pages late at night when it was thought she visited aspiring male warriors and…removed them over their manhood with a copper dagger.

Quinn knew this to be ridiculous. In fact, she considered herself most proud of the fact that Knight Drevon was her trainer, the sole reason that Quinn had been able to claim her noble birth and aspire to her father’s position.

Of course, that was a story for another time. Quinn felt that story close to her heart every moment of her life, grateful that it had become synonymous with her identity.

As she entered, she was greeted by an older man with a snide expression. “So you’re the knight we’ve been expecting,” he said, sneering under his great, hooked nose.

Quinn was not easily intimidated by this kind of behavior. She had encountered it all her 17 years of training, beginning at the age of 5. It was for this reason that Quinn had never put much faith in the male of the species.

“Is it not enough that we’ve been reduced to hiring out a knight from another realm, but to have a woman…”Here, he paused, perhaps thinking it beneath him to continue. Quinn remained silent. Clapping his hands together, a chambermaid appeared, her head bowed low. The female knight thought briefly how such a fate might have been her own. As it was, she bowed her head to no man less than royalty. “Take this…woman up to the young Majesty’s chambers at once.”

The women nodded and motioned for Quinn to follow.

As they wandered down corridors, Quinn, not for the first time, mused on the oddity of brining in a knight from another realm to protect one of the most precious assets of the state. Obviously, the knights of this state were not to be trusted. It wasn’t that Quinn necessarily minded her job—on the contrary, she found it interesting. After years of questing, she thought it might be nice have a change of scenery.

As they approached the door to the princess’ chambers, the woman relayed to the knight that she would introduce her.

Quinn nodded.