Corporal Bunny
Star
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2009
Lady Muriel Rosaline Anastas stepped unto the dirt training arena. Dust was already settling around a fallen squire who lay upon his face, his leg tucked awkwardly under him as he moaned incoherently, spitting a mix of blood and dirt from his injured mouth.
Muriel should have fled then. Any woman befitting of her station would have grimaced at the sight of blood, especially if she was about to put herself in harms way. But, Muriel was no ordinary woman. True, she had the most fashionable of features.
She was petite, golden hair hung like spun gold from her scalp. Unfortunately, what would have been prized locks were cut short at her shoulders, causing the strands to curl under her defiant jaw-line. Lush lips curled up in what seemed to be a constant mocking expression upon a rounded chin. Eyes the color of flax were leaden with heavy black lashes, her nose thin and straight-- A nose never broken or bloodied. Her skin, however, was a darker pink hue than most ladies; evidence she spent too much time in the sun. Not even a freckle marred her perfect skin-- skin that had never been bruised outside of a corset.
Yes, Muriel Rosaline Anastas was the physical epitome of a lady; delicate. There was a fierceness in her gaze as she fixed it upon her goal. The 5â??1â? blond approached her target. Brown leather breeches curled around her legs as if they adored every curve of her shape. A master in sewing she had devised that skirts were far too cumbersome for her knew profession and constructed many other wardrobe options for herself. Upon her upper half she wore a white linen shirt. The shirt was that of a manâ??s, a small man-- but a man all the same. She had obviously not taken the time to sew what would be under armor. Her tiny shoulders were less than adequate to hold the linen and so often one shoulder would slide from itâ??s confines in an almost explicit manner.
Too much skin for a woman to bare to public, even to a husband. The shirt was finely made however, as if she had taken it from her lord father. Ruffles swung around her wrists, around her finely etched collar bones and across what looked like an adequate bust under the loose fitting garment.
Linen bunched around her hips as it seemed Muriel had hurriedly tucked it into the tight band of her breeches, accenting the curve of female hips.
â??Sir Alexander â??de Vaux?â? She called in a honey tone as she approached. Even the fallen squire wrenched around to look at her oddly through a bloodied eye.
â??I have an important document for you.â? she said before he turned. Reaching out with the document; her seal of approval she waited for the recognition to dawn on him.