II. NUDITY
Trefor is not half the clumsy oaf she thinks him to be, as illustrated by his nimble footwork and sleight of hand with the sword—moving gracefully despite the heavy, clunking armor encircling his body.
If he gets to see more of her, he does not mind a bruise.
Or a cut.
And what's a missing finger or two for love?
Hell, take his arm.
He goes to her with these new injuries and a bashful expression. She returns it with cold hands and iceberg censure and a frown upon her faintly glossed lips.
He knows she'd like to hit him.
She doesn't know that he would like to hit her too—in a completely different sense of the word.
But until he works up his courage—the heart behind the tin man still beats hard in her presence—he doesn't mind this roundabout way of seeing her. He'd give both of his legs for a kind word.
He'd run through Peaca dungeon naked to see Dilys smile.