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Scyld winced as Rowenna stalked off the dance floor, hauling Thornden with her. It only now occurred to him that his own chances with Rowenna might be damped if she were in a bad mood. It took Aldric a moment to realize what had happened, but when he did, Scyld could see his shoulders tightening and a scowl crossing his face. He took a step towards Rowenna and Thornden, now standing against the wall, then stopped. He visibly mastered himself, replacing his frown with an almost-charming smile, and sketched a bow in Rowenna's direction. Scyld could not help but admire his aplomb, at least a little. Then he turned on his heel and walked back toward his friends.
Straight to Scyld. He realized it too late to escape, for it was abundantly clear now to him that he would rather not have Rowenna see him with Aldric. “You know something about her,” hissed Aldric. “Something you didn't tell me. That's why you won't approach her yourself.”
“Really, I know very little,” said Scyld, “save that she is strong-willed, and, well, feisty. But that, I think, you have learned for yourself.”
“You have embarrassed me in front of the whole hall.”
Scyld refrained from saying, You have done that yourself. “Folk are drunk and caught up in their own business. They will not care. Now, if you will excuse me...”
But Aldric caught his arm. “I will not forget this.”
Scyld frowned. “I meant you no harm. Do not tell me you have never been turned aside by a woman.” He pulled his arm away and walked off to find some others to mingle with. As he did, he dared to steal a glance at Rowenna...
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