Who Would Respect Wood Instead Of Precious Metal
Ruolan sat at the edge of the bed in the small room she was brought into by the guards. It was bare, and had just a bed and a table in the middle, with some firewood stacked underneath the window.
She waited in pensive silence, wondering how her young master was doing, until the sound of the door creaking open pulled her out of her worrisome thoughts.
Following the sound, her eyes landed on a slightly drunk man, holding a red script in his right hand and a silver cup in the other. She recognized him as the village head, the same one who had them thrown into prison.
"Surprised?" He asked, closing the door behind him, Ruolan reflexively stood up and backed herself into a corner, as far from him as possible. But the room was small, and he could walk.
Unfortunately.
"Don't shy away, I'm very gentle with beautiful women." He announced, casually tossing the book onto the table, training his gaze on her he brought his lips to the silver cup.