[h3]Rionach[/h3]
[hr]

A nervous silence occupied Rionach during the first portion of her trip as a part of Prince Jarde's party, though her inner thoughts swam with turmoil.  Over and over again the embarrassing scene from last night played in her head.  There she'd been, kneeling in front of someone she'd just offered her service to, and his response: nothing.  She might have just as well not existed.

He hadn't stopped her when in the morning she, presuming his lack of denial a roundabout form of acceptance, tagged along with him, but his total lack of response to her sincere pledge rattled her.  Even if those she met were not impressed with her appearance, attitude, or history, they typically told her so.  Never before did someone greet what she was positive had been a heartfelt declaration with indifference.  When he did speak several hours down the rode, Rionach jolted to attention as though she'd been shocked with Elthunder.  Jarde asked for an introduction, and the redhead blanched.  [i]Could I have really forgotten?  No way.  If I didn't say anything, it was because I was intimidated!  He didn't look like he wanted anything to do with me last night![/i]  By the time she composed herself, the more important-looking individual out of her and Jerod had already given his name and a short response, which was just as well.  In the pecking order, commoners went last—of which she appeared to be the only one here.  No matter; Rionach would have to keep up the pretense of being a well-known heroine much longer, and hope that she could excuse the lack of battlefield experience that Jarde witnessed in the battle.

“My name is Rionach.  A traveling hero from Valentia, hoping to spread my name across the land.”  After introducing herself, Rionach felt sure that she had said as much last night by the campfire, before the whole bloody kerfuffle got underway.  One by one Jarde's retainers gave their names, and from their manners Rionach could deduce their natures without much trouble.  In fact, she found herself stifling a giggle at how blatant the disparity was between them, like something out of a fairy tale.  [i]A calm, collected woman all in blue, and a fiery, aggressive woman in red.  This prince must have an eye for aesthetics, though not just in terms of theming.[i/]  Both the appearance and the attitude of Merilia irked Rionach; her first shared words during this entire trip were of flippant vocabulary and accusatory tone.  Did she think Rionach was some sort of assassin or harlot, chomping at the bit to get at Jarde?  More importantly: weren't royal retainers, weighted down by the honor of their positions, supposed to be more restrained and subtle?  Keerin fit the bill, but if not for the quality of her gear, Merilia could have been some pushy greenhorn high on the sort of unearned authority that one might get from a fledgling city guard.

Making sure not to appear too slighted by Merilia's presumptuousness, Rionach bowed her head.  “Never, my lady.  I would never impugn on my Prince's honor after he saved my life.”  As for whatever implications there might be for another big name from Elibe traveling as a mercenary, Rionach elected to steer clear.  Politics weren't her business unless Jarde told her they were.  All she needed to worry about now was making a good impression and not giving Merilia the slightest satisfaction.