There's a pause and then what sounds like muffled conversation and the definite sound of someone's increasing protestations as footsteps move towards the door, which is suddenly yanked open with a certain rebellious abruptness.
This is certainly not Mark Sandazhard, though he freezes in place in the background, his hands locked in a pleading motion, his face a mask of absolute horror. It isn't just the shock of a man embarrassed either - there's a pallor to his countenance that seems like that of a man whose entire world is collapsing about his ears.
The woman reclining comfortably against the door frame, however, looks precisely like the cat who just got the cream. Her eyes spark with mischief as they quite deliberately rake in the King, with very obvious appraisal, and she glances back over her shoulder at the other man just once. His anxiety is palpable as he stands there, paralyzed, waiting for her to say something. It doesn't take much of an observer* to note his undone collar, the lipstick smeared on his jaw, his mussed hairdo.
"Did he now?" she asks, sounding like someone feigning "surprise" for something the other knows perfectly well that they aren't actually surprised about. "Mark, darling. The King is here to speak with you. Isn't that interesting?" She raises an eyebrow back at Arthur, her smug attitude only seeming to feed off from this.
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This is certainly not Mark Sandazhard, though he freezes in place in the background, his hands locked in a pleading motion, his face a mask of absolute horror. It isn't just the shock of a man embarrassed either - there's a pallor to his countenance that seems like that of a man whose entire world is collapsing about his ears.
The woman reclining comfortably against the door frame, however, looks precisely like the cat who just got the cream. Her eyes spark with mischief as they quite deliberately rake in the King, with very obvious appraisal, and she glances back over her shoulder at the other man just once. His anxiety is palpable as he stands there, paralyzed, waiting for her to say something. It doesn't take much of an observer* to note his undone collar, the lipstick smeared on his jaw, his mussed hairdo.
"Did he now?" she asks, sounding like someone feigning "surprise" for something the other knows perfectly well that they aren't actually surprised about. "Mark, darling. The King is here to speak with you. Isn't that interesting?" She raises an eyebrow back at Arthur, her smug attitude only seeming to feed off from this.
[[*Spot check of at least 10]]