a thin scar left behind, the parting gift of a young bandit girl on the road. however, shadrich often told the story differently, preferring not to mention that a presumably untrained wild thing had bested him. an attempt to keep his own ego intact; a mouse of a man who had grown comfortable with the words others slung at him regarding certain features, but never his skill. besides, who would ever believe otherwise? he was sure that there were be no one for the young girl to tell. at least, he had been sure until he saw her again, sitting next to the king in the north. a short inquiry and he had found that she was not a rogue bandit, but another noble to add to the list of those that had unneededly embarrassed him. a well maintained bitterness rose inside him, and his eyes narrowed. he much prefered her sister, he decided, and went on with his night.
yet, while dragonstone was large, it was not endless. it was later in the same night that the knight found him walking down a thin corridor, and the stark princess coming in the opposite direction. the tactful thing might have been to simply continue, even nod in recognition, but shadrich had lost all wishes to conduct himself tactfully in the bay that surrounded this very castle three years ago. ‘ seems like you’ve decided to stop playing bandit. did pretending to be a smallfolk grow boring, princess ? ’ @nowolfs
