Avery stood there, her mind a tangle of anticipation and dread. The knights around her held their breath, their eyes darting between her and their young master, certain of what would come next.
After spilling her raw, vulnerable confession—laying bare her insecurities about her sweat, her stench, the way it had driven even her ex-husband away—they all braced for the inevitable.
'He'll push her off.' One knight thought, her brow creasing with pity. 'Tell her to scram and scrub herself clean—nobody wants that smell up close.'
Another winced, whispering to her neighbor. "Gods, after that? He might gag right here—poor Avery."
Even Julie, who'd seen Cassius defy expectations time and again, felt a flicker of doubt.
'He's different, sure.' She mused, her arms crossed tight. 'But he's still a noble—born to silks and perfumes, a life of luxury...Sweat, blood, steel? That's a stench he won't stomach, no matter how much he plays at being one of us.'
