Ragnelle should know better. She should know better.
But she doesn't. She scrambles over the railing, too panicked to be undignified, tearing her dress in the process; she runs, her bare feet skidding on the dirt, and falls to her knees beside him.
"O, mother Mary, o God, o God, Kay--"
--never mind whether it shame him, never mind that she has no business interrupting the King's tournament for an injury that's probably nothing threatening, never mind--