Rowan asking Louis for permission
Rowan stood in front of the kitchen door, a white towel on his arm, streaks of sweat streaming down the side of his face. He had never been afraid, even in the face of death, yet here he was, afraid of asking a father for permission to take his daughter as a wife. He never knew this could be so hard. He had rehearsed his words every morning, but each time he saw Louis, he got cold feet.
What if the man didn't like him for his daughter? The possibilities were high. Louis had seen him kill. The man didn't even like blood, and Louis might have heard from the gossiping maids about his past lifestyle. There were so many reasons not to like him, and seeing that Louis was so protective of his daughter, would he give her away to someone like him, a man born in the slums, with no family and no understanding of how to properly dote on a woman?