A Thief Until the Day Death Takes Me

Franziska tilted her head, shrugging. Does it matter? The Birds probably followed me anyway. She spoke so neutrally about the Crows, no inflection to her tone. She'd heard her mother warn her that this King had been placed upon his pedestal by the very people trying to take their home from them. She'd be weary of him, use him, and then she'd leave... at least, that was the plan.

Her head tilted to the side, as she turned to study the man. Oh, that is quite unfortunate. I wasn't aware that kings cared enough about their mothers to just... take off. She hummed quietly, eyeing the man. That was a trait she could admire; a king stepping up to take care of his family. Her father was very much the same kind of person; though her father had no more family than his wife and children.

The Antivan's lips parted in a slight frown, as she stared at the outstretched hand. And then, she furrowed her brows, as if trying to put two-and-two together. She'd only ever spoken to guards; never his brothers, though she'd always just assumed the guards had told the king who he had in his cell.

I see. It's not milady, it's my liege or my lord, if you insist on a title. Fran bowed to nobody, not even her own parents, and that was something her mother had spent a lifetime trying to change. Now that she knew who he was, she was studying him, tipping her head to the side as she took in his features.

He looked kind. Down to Thedas kind of man, like her father. Some small part of her almost felt bad for the fact she just wanted to use him to stay safe... I've never been around pets. Babba didn't believe in having them. She wasn't sure if that was true; her father had certainly never entertained any kind of ideas of the royal children having pets, though. But I suppose he looks like an okay guard dog.

It's said as an afterthought, as if she's not really thought much about what might make a good dog or not. Should kings not be guarded by guards? I mean, my father's guarded by my mother, but... that's an arrangement that I can only assume plays into their sex life, too. She crinkled her nose, studying Byron wide-eyed and unashamedly.

After a pause...

So. Can I stay? We'd have to make our betrothal... looks real, accepted, but I wasn't given a choice in who to marry... and I don't know you. But Ferelden's better than living on the run.