"I've got a paper here warning me you are wanted and extremely dangerous, love."The metal of his sword hovers near her chest but never touches— it's owners eyes trained far more attentively on hers.
"That is probably because I am." She answers him with a tight-lipped smile.
The words seem to amuse him, and his eyes twinkle as a smirk lights the handsome lines of his face. He glances down again at her wanted sign, brow furrowing after a moment.
"Nolan, eh? I suppose I really ought to be referring to you as princess."
She snorts, and the captain cocks a brow.
"I'm hardly a princess," she scoffs, rolling her eyes and tugging at a loose piece of her dress, "The good queen made sure of that long before I was born."
Sarcasm drips heavy from her tone.
"And, Captain, I go by Swan."
"Ah. Lovely and gentle to the eye, but likely the most aggressive bird on the water." His smirk grows a touch before melting slowly away.
His brow furrows as he studies her and she rolls her eyes, leaning on the tree he has her backed against and regarding the sword he holds up to her with boredom. Hot magic tingles in her palm but she buries it in the material of her dress, holding back.
As if that piece of metal could hurt her.
She glances back at the captain, who is still watching her with quiet intensity.
Now those baby blues, on the other hand.
"I am not going to turn you in," he finally utters, lowering his sword. He catches her off guard, and she does not move quickly enough to mask her shock.
"What?"
"I'm not planning on turning you in, love. I believe that perhaps your nefariousness is a touch overstated."
"Excuse me?"
He moves closer to her and she lets him, tensing slightly but glaring him down.
The goddamn nerve.
"I can offer you passage."
He is being serious, she can tell in the lines of his face, and she gawks at him.
"Excuse me?"
Amusement lights again in his eyes, and he shakes his head, ever so slightly.
"There are guards set everywhere in this forest, Swan. You will never find your way out safely. Perhaps you are an outlaw but you have not wronged me yet."
She regards him warily with a furrowed brow, searching for the dishonesty in the intensity of his eyes.
But he means it.
"Why would you help me?"
And how could he blame her for being suspicious when he is known for being the upstanding captain at sea?
"Perhaps," he says softly, and moves a step closer to her as he sheaths his sword, intense eyes trained on her. "You just need somebody to see the best in you."