1Star
He looked at her and swallowed, an odd feeling at the pit of his stomach. She looked...he could not describe her properly. Though it was not the finery that perhaps she had once been used to, it had a certain charm to it. However faded the reputation surrounding the women wearing this dress made it.
She seemed softer in it, not as harsh as the woman she was when fighting against guards and other lackeys of Gisbourne and the Sheriff, but yes, softer. Or was it because he was looking for a difference that he saw one? He wasn't entirely sure.
Whatever it was, it was very becoming.
He was still looking at her when she turned to him. "What?" she asked, her usual confidence not as comfortably there in the dress. He looked at her face, right in the eyes. How was he supposed to answer? He could tell the truth yes, but it was neither the time nor the place.
"Nothing," he answered simply, before walking off sharply. He could dimly hear Allan making some comment that he felt would have worked better with one of the serving maids in the local tavern. She wasn't a serving maid, he thought, as the odd feeling increased.
She was a star, however much she didn't want to see it.
