Gilded Jail

A Curious Request

The outlaw ventured from city to city, town to town, all to live his truth as a swordsman. He had abandoned his old life as a noble in the lap of luxury. Most who heard of this shunned and judged the man, why would one throw away a comfortable life for one of peril and fear?

Freedom, is what he would say to that.

Nicholas, guided by his lonely blade, found himself in a celtic town beside the ocean. He'd never been one for the salty breeze or coral reefs, but silently admitted his fondness for the nearby pubs. With a sheathed weapon the swordsman walked the busy streets. Analyzing his surroundings had become second nature to him, he noted the lingering stares from certain folk, though none posed malice or ill intent. Simply curiosity or nonbelief. Though it was uncomfortable, who could blame them?

Just about anyone could see how out of place he appeared.

The retired noble stopped by a jeweler's booth to gaze upon the precious gems and accessories for sale. Golden bracelets, silver rings, and necklaces of all colors glittered in the daylight. Such items reminded him of his old home, gilded and elegant. Interrupting his somber recollection was a voice of silk.

"Isn't the selection delightful today?"

Nicholas glanced to the side, shocked to see such a spellbinding being. A woman of pale skin, voluminous golden hair that curled in every strand, and diamond eyes. The cloth around her body was a velvety red dress that reached the floor. In his mind, Nicholas could only attribute such perfection to the divine. Upon receiving her puzzled gaze, the man realized he had been staring without response. Though for how long remained a mystery to him.

"Ah, yes, I suppose so." Was the first thing he could think of to say. His fingers moved several of his braids from his face, resting them behind his shoulder. The rest of his jet black locks were tied in a high bun. The epitome of woman conversing with this man seemed curious about his hair type and dark, beautiful skin. The outlaw could only hope he left a good impression.

"Have you considered accessorizing your braids?" She asked, meeting his flustered gaze. "You could weave in strands of golden silk, or even silver. That would be simply divine, don't you agree?" She smiled at him, as if he was an old friend. Such kindness wasn't expected to Nicholas, he was usually met with a scowl, or some kind of backhanded compliment. Handling this was foreign territory.
Nicholas broke his stern demeanor to crack a genuine smirk in her direction. "I must agree... I would recommend something in return but I'm lost for ideas in your presence." He softly suggested his heart for the woman.

She laughed, a regal, attractive laugh. "Oh, you flatter me, Mister Greene!" She hid half her face behind a fan that matched her dress. The outlaw was pleased she knew him by surname, oddly enough. It was never usually a good thing wherever he roamed.

"I see you've heard of me... Should I expect to be turned in to the officials,:m'lady?" He charismatically questioned while bowing, kissing this angel's hand. Though his deceitful nature was useful in times like these, his heart beat like a drum in his chest. The lovely lady chuckled, seeming to scan her surroundings with caution. "Please call me Charlotte, I deserve no high praise. In fact..." She met eyes with Nicholas once more. "I require your assistance, paid of course... Separate me from the noble you'll see me with, forever." She requested. "Please. You will be paid handsomely. I trust you understand what I am asking."

Nicholas's gaze became serious, in an instant he analyzed Charlotte's behavior. She had scanned the crowd, requested help from a dangerous outlaw, and said it with a never faltering smile. Clearly she didn't want to cause a scene and was in some kind of danger.

"Right. You shall be safe by nightfall." He promised, allowing her to take her hand back. Charlotte let out a gentle sigh, then silently returned to admiring the accessories in the glass case. Her eyes had become melancholy, even depressed. No amount of smiling could conceal her true feelings. Shortly after, a man of seemingly high status approached. Dressed in high quality silks, fancy pants, a respectable outer coat... a noble. With his nose high in the air he snapped at his wife.
"Charlotte, come. We have matters to attend to."
Was all he said. As Charlotte obeyed, Nicholas took note of the pure silver ring on her husband's finger. Married... This was worse than he thought. Although the nobleman said no words to the stranger, his disgusted glare spoke volumes. The outlaw returned the sharp glare for a moment, making sure to remember the face he saw.

How on earth could he go about this?