Re: Elevator to First Class
The rumble, the word, the thought, sent a wash of ice along her spine, but though she perhaps paled slightly in the wake of it, she refused to react further. "I am quite certain," she replied, firm but not as sharply antagonistic as she had been to start. "And if you attempt to think that you are, then you are horribly mistaken." She had no master. She was certain of it. There was no one to fill such a role.
Her hands flattened against the front of her dress, as if the simple motion could somehow ward off the things he spoke of. She shook her head once, decisive, denying that simple praise would be enough to undo the straps of her armor, the delicate ties and buttons up the back of the silk and satin that enveloped her. Her face flushed, she could feel the heat suffusing her cheeks and she knew they had grown pink. It was hardly proper for a princess to blush like a small girl, but she couldn't keep the color away from normally pale skin.
"Positive," she attempted to recover. Ice, steel, and armor. Three things she hoped that she could rely on to get her through this. A situation that was slowly slipping away from her as she remained confronted by him. And yet she refused to admit that perhaps there wasn't quite so much of the warrior in her as she might hope. Perhaps, indeed, she was more the pampered and delicate princess than she wanted to confess to. But all she needed to do was convince him that she was warrior, and she could leave, find someplace quiet. Hide away. Yes, that sounded right. Tuck the princess away, keep her from the dragons outside. She only had to play the game for a moment, and she was certain she could do that. "I thank you for your concern, but I am quite content with what I have. Any perceived unwillingness to answer is simply a desire to keep my thougths to myself." Her voice had grown softer, less steely by the end. It wasn't pleading - not yet - but neither was it the edged blade that it had been before.