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[archademode]

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[poleaxed]

Getting treated like shite doesn't make being treated like garbage feel better.

[Speaking from experience.]

[She catches the humor with something like a gasp, and is very glad he can't see her slight blush. This is fucking ridiculous. She's fucked dukes in the woods. He's just a man.]

[But that is why he is unique.]

[Still, she can summon up a laugh, and it is true, and she is grateful for it.]

Sorry, luv, but you can't take me name. Don't have one.

[archademode]

I have been told challenges in this world occasionally afford an opportunity for usurpation. [Dangerous waters, perhaps, given their sworn promises to one another never to venture into that territory— but there remains only lenience in his voice now. Only trust.]

By that right, I would need no name, only your reputation.

[poleaxed]

[Dangerous waters, high risk, high reward. Reward if, well, you want to hear Jone laugh about killing her father.] Helluva plan you have there, mate. Off me with a fleshing knife.

[There's Some New Information.]

You can have me reputation for free. Dowry gift.

[archademode]

[His attention shifts at that: he can detect something in her voice, bitterness or acidity or— pain, perhaps. It isn't his place to dig, so instead he abstains.

With a noted, new memory.]

I would end you far more kindly, if it came to that.

[Is this romantic?]

[poleaxed]

[Hey, it's doing it for her.] Yeah. Don't worry, I'd get it done quicker for you, too.

Likely top meself off afterward. You can make a proper ballad out of that. There's reputation for you.

[archademode]

Then I suggest we hold off, until this war meets its end.

Or until the shards claim us all.

[Whichever comes first.]