135
The carriage door swings open and the beautiful young woman steps gracefully out onto the stony trail.
‘May I be so bold as to introduce myself,’ she says, pausing to adjust a broad-brimmed hat which is trimmed with black corvayl fur, as silky smooth as her flowing hair. ‘I am the Baroness Coryene of the Lucia Province.’
She offers her delicate hand and you kiss it in deference to her noble rank. Out of the corner of your eye you notice the leading horseman dismount and come to stand protectively by her side.
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‘Oh, and this is my personal guard—Dorst.’
You give the gruff-looking fellow a slight bow and he nods his head in response, albeit begrudgingly.
‘We are returning from a visit to my cousin’s estate. We were hoping to reach Kalma by sunset, but we were delayed by bandits,’ she says, almost apologetically.
‘We made ’em pay dearly for wastin’ our time, though,’ adds Dorst, with quiet menace.
‘It appears that we shall now have to encamp here in the hills this night,’ says the Baroness. ‘Perhaps you would care to join us, my lord? I would feel so much safer if you did.’
Despite Dorst’s cutting glances, you agree to the Baroness’s proposal. Then you produce the six trout that you caught earlier and offer them to her as a gift.
‘Why, thank you,’ she says, with a wide smile. ‘They look … delicious.’
