"She was... she did not touch me." That was something, which seems nothing. But in the days since she had been taken up by Elgar'nan, he had put his hands in her hair, tilted her face up with nails that had dug in to turn her this way and that, to inspect her. Then passed her over to those that cared just as much. Pawed and poked and prodded with harshly inspecting gaze. That Mythal did not immediately go to lay claim the second she was allowed... it was enough.

But to the rest, she flinches away from it - as if that were not answer enough for his question. Her fingers reach instead for another morsel of food, another small, scurried bite in the nervousness. Busying herself with it as she nods, slowly, little. "I will be presented at the next one of his... displays. When my skills are enough." The joke, the laughter around her head as they marred her face. She looks handsome with a weapon in her hands, that will do well. Now she will be thrown in and directed as he saw fit. "He expects I will do quite well, given the speed my temper gave me. He has put me to dancing, short swords, archery first."

She doesn't want it, of course she doesn't. She had wanted to protect a friend. In her worst nightmares, wildest dreams, it had never looked like this.