Marius raised an eyebrow as he turned to face her, highlighting the shadows under his eyes and the sharpness of his cheekbones. Internally, he was a churn of wildly variant emotions: primarily delight and dread. The sense of malevolent pleasure probably wasn't his, but it was getting harder and harder to tell any more.
"Always? Did we have some kind of always I forgot about? And no, the spurs would make you stand out less. Be popular though, I should think. If you were loooking for something to ride."
He turned, and had a rummage through the bottles on the back shelf, then pulled one out and ostentatiously dusted it off. "Strawberry wine. Look at that." He poured her a glass, not looking her in the eye. "So... tell me my mother didn't send you here."
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