Duty First
“You are watching that woman very closely, Dúrvain.”
Dúrvain tossed a dismissive glance at his fellow guard. “I was bid by our Prince to keep an eye on her, Fimorn.”
“For himself?” Fimorn gave the woman a critical look. “Surely not; she is some child’s nursemaid.”
“Lord Denethor’s children are in her care,“ Dúrvain said, a small smile on his face.
“She’s that nursemaid?” Fimorn was intrigued. “She does not look as if she would slap a lord.”
Dúrvain was not listening. “It is a pity we are on duty all evening,” he sighed. “I would ask her to dance.”