What loyalty! Hearing that number, Lady Roslin trembled with emotion, and her eyes, which had only just stopped watering, reddened again.
Her family had repeatedly failed to reward him as he deserved for his services, and had even plotted against him, yet the young man before her regarded it all as kindness. She was at a loss for words, with nothing left but guilt.
She took his hand, interrupting him. "Don't say any more, Suleiman."
"House Deddings will remember your loyalty forever. Come, go into the castle and rest. Food and drink have already been prepared for your soldiers."
Suleiman frowned slightly. I haven't even finished putting on a show, and she's already going to let people spread the word. Why won't she let me speak?
He waved his hand, and the army behind him marched into the city in orderly ranks. They were silent, grim, and imposing, a stark contrast to the fearful, uneasy looks of the townsfolk. The soldiers didn't look around; they went straight to the barracks assigned to them. Their discipline was unlike that of a hastily assembled army.
Suleiman was escorted to a luxurious bedroom reserved for the castle's guests. A warm fire crackled in the hearth, the carpets were soft, and the air carried a faint fragrance. A maid with a shapely figure and pretty face stood beside the bed with her hands folded. When she saw him enter, she immediately curtsied, her eyes filled with a hint of practiced shyness and seduction.
Suleiman's gaze lingered on her for a moment. What was this? His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, but he quickly understood. She was trying to attach herself to a nobleman. He didn't bother remembering the maid's name, nor was he interested in admiring her carefully made-up face.
He unbuckled the sword at