"Thanks for saving me," said Reckless Pallad. "Those Hillichurls almost did me in."
"It's nothing," said the violet-haired woman. She carried a rapier, and a musket, and had a broad-rimmed hat. Pallad couldn't help checking out her knockers—in his defense, those things were gigantic! He swallowed.
"Hey um… could I treat you to a drink?"
The woman regarded him. "If you're asking me on a date, I must decline. I have a boyfriend."
"Oh, I hope I didn't offend you."
"Of course not. I appreciate the compliment. Take care."
The woman left. Pallad sighed. Well, he shot his shot.
She stopped and came back to him. "Excuse me, but are you Reckless Pallad?"
"Um… yes?"
She socked him in the gut so hard his eyes rolled back in his head.
"That's for Sucrose," she said. "Sorry if that was a bit rough."
He wheezed, "It's fine. Thanks for hitting me."