Cyrdic noticed the man hadn't asked him if everything was well. Then again it was probably just the Knightly way of being concerned for the woman more than the male. He had to snicker at Camilla's reply, however. "Everything's fine." Cyrdic said to answer him. He looked to Cyrdic as if he hadn't even noticed the man was there until now. "The lady Melisende seemed very concerned for your well being, sir Beaumont." 

"Truly?" Beamont replied, a light look in his eyes that spoke of approval, though obviously not personal involvement. However, he could hear the sarcasm in Cyrdic's voice, and drew himself up. "She is a fine woman, and a dutiful wife. Any man would be lucky to have her, as you are lucky, my Lord." His eyes swept to Camilla, who gave him the most rigid smile Cyrdic had ever seen. "If all is well, I will give you leave." 

"Thank you, sir. It is well." Camilla asked briskly, and she went to shut the door. Beaumont did step out politely, but when he was gone, Cyrdic could smell the flower scent on the man still lingering outside of the door of a few minutes. He turned to Camilla, seeing her miserable. He had to agree, and decided on something. "Sigmar curse it, let's take a nap." he told Camilla, who looked at him like he had suggested something outlandish. 

"A nap? In this place?" she asked, her accent causing her voice to raise in pitch. He scooped her up playfully, though she contested at first. "No, they just put this ridiculous thing on me!" 

"Then don't you want to wrinkle it?" he asked her. 

It took her a moment, but then she giggled. "True, I do." and kissed him. They settled on the bed, and slept likely. Camilla and Cyrdic regaining a bit of their stamina from the nap. For Camilla, it was a dreamless sleep. For Cyrdic, he wouldn't remember, but when Camilla awoke, she heard a very wolfish growl escaping Cyrdic's lip. On second inspection, his hair was getting thicker as well, though only his love would notice it. "Ceer-dik?" she said, poking him awake. 

A snarl escaped him, and then a normal snore, and what followed was his eyes opening. "Hmmm?" he asked, looking normal as usual. She blinked, looking at him with concern. Though when she was about to speak, she saw something behind him, on the floor. She slid off the bed and went to pick up what looked to be a message, breaking the seal and pulling out a letter. With each word, her hair stood on end and it was her turn to seem bestial and feirce, and she cursed in Tilean in more ways than even Cyrdic could translate. 

"What? What is it?" he asked. 

It was a letter from Beaumont, or his retainer to be more precise. In flowing Bretonnian script, she read it aloud in Reikspeil, and Cyrdic's jaw set firmly. On this day at noon, he had challenged Cyrdic to a joust in the royal courtyard, for the honor of lady Contessa Camilla del La Trantio.
[@Penny]