Hey guys, welcome back to Hear a Tale! Before we get to today's tale, review responses!

Thanks so much to CitrusChickadee for reviewing! Haha yeah, Therion strikes me as being very easy to troll XD I'm glad you liked the first chapter, and I hope you continue to read and enjoy!

With that, one with the tale!

Relevant Events: "For Women's Ears Only" Tavern Banter, Primrose's Chapter 4 (mentioned)

2. Love

"We'll start by you telling me what kind of man you like…"

()()()()

"Tressa...you need to forget about trading for a bit," Primrose told the young merchant with a smile. "You can't buy a good man, you know. It takes love and affection."

"I'll take that lesson to heart!" Tressa replied with a sheepish laugh as Ophilia giggled.

"As will I," the cleric added. "We've learned so much from your experiences, Primrose!"

"Now what about thee?" H'aanit prompted, an eyebrow raised. "What sort of man dost thou favoren?"

"Me?" The dancer chuckled. "Well, that's easy. See, what I like in a man is…"

She froze.

That was just it, wasn't it? Her answer wasn't so easy anymore.

Mere weeks ago, if she had been asked such a question, Primrose would have been able to provide a perfect description of the man she would most be interested in. Elegant. Well-spoken. Considerate and gentlemanly. A poet and a playwright. Soft, cornflower blue eyes and long, silver hair tied back into a braid.

Recent events, however, had added another detail to stain that image.

An exposed throat, coated with the mark of the crow.

Then, her father's dagger, cleaving straight through the inked corvid's head.

Primrose had told herself that she would no longer give any thought to the man she had once been fascinated with. The man who she had thought was merely a kindly gardener with a knack for poetry. The man who had finally revealed his true colors when he plunged a blade into her abdomen.

The man who had killed her father.

The man she had killed in the end.

Simeon.

Then again, what she had felt for that man…was it ever truly "love?" Perhaps, as a young girl, she would have labeled it as such, but as it stood now, she shied away from that word completely. If nothing else, twelve-year-old Primrose had merely harbored a childish infatuation for the charismatic gardner.

And Simeon…Simeon had taken advantage of that.

Disgust roiled in the dancer's stomach even as she thought about it. Simeon's intentions had never been pure, that much was clear now. The man had been equal parts playwright and puppet master, manipulating those around him like characters of his own, as easily as though their limbs all hung on strings wrapped around his fingers. He had seen Primrose as a challenge, a strong will to break. The fact that he had begun his manipulation when she was so young only made a despicable act that much worse.

No…everything that Simeon had been was exactly what Primrose would avoid at all costs from then on. Though he had put up a convincing facade, in the end, he was all but the opposite of an ideal human being, let alone a romantic partner.

What, then, did she like in a man?

During her time dancing at the tavern in Sunshade, Primrose had encountered more men than she could count, but the vast majority of them were not exactly what one could call honorable. They were more so the type to whistle derisively in her direction, to touch as much of her as they could when she passed by their tables, and to eventually ask Helgenish how much a night with her was worth. Those men were all tolerable enough when they were a means to an end, when she was still looking for information regarding the crow-marked men, but now that she had finished that journey, she wouldn't even deign to touch any of them with the point of a spear.

As such, Primrose turned her mind away from the hordes of nameless, leering men, and instead directed her thoughts towards the male members of her traveling party. They had all proven themselves far kinder and nobler than most of the men she had encountered before, but did any of them truly align with the qualities she would seek in a partner for herself?

Alfyn was a sweetheart, of course, always with his bright smile and never-fading willingness to help those in need. Of course, his altruistic tendencies could get him in trouble with people of less honorable pursuits, but Primrose did admire the way the apothecary stuck so closely to his own ideals and convictions. Still, she did not view him in a romantic light, and preferred to think of the young man as a close, trusted friend more than anything else. Besides, she had caught Alfyn's gaze lingering on Ophilia for just a moment too long on several occasions, and she wasn't about to consider getting in the way of whatever might happen there.

Cyrus was, Primrose realized, exactly what Simeon had pretended to be, only without the manipulative interior lying just beneath the surface. The scholar was charming, eloquent, gentlemanly, and intelligent - not to mention easy on the eyes. Yet despite all that, he had proven absolutely hopeless when it came to romantic advances aimed in his direction. Once, Primrose had attempted flirting with him as a test, and there was not a single moment throughout the entire exchange that Cyrus seemed to realize that anything about her behavior was different. Once again, she considered Cyrus a good friend, but figured she might go mad if she ever attempted to court someone so confoundingly oblivious.

Then there was Olberic, a man whose senses of honor and justice were unmatched by anyone Primrose had ever met before. He was surprisingly soft-spoken for a man of his stature, and he was remarkably slow to anger on most matters. Primrose often found herself aspiring for self-improvement after observing his diligence, and she respected and looked up to him greatly. However, he still wasn't quite right in terms of a potential romantic interest - and besides, the warrior did not seem all that concerned with romance in the first place.

That only left…Therion?

Well…he certainly wasn't bad-looking, if nothing else. And true, despite his standoffishness and trust issues, he did have an odd sort of charm to him, at times. His less than savory profession wasn't entirely a problem either - it wasn't like Primrose could fault him for taking whatever measures necessary to survive without becoming a hypocrite herself. The dancer didn't doubt that there was at least some semblance of a kind heart underneath the thief's rough exterior, and he was quite entertaining to tease to boot. The two of them were just about the same age, not to mention both single…but was there any sort of romantic interest there?

She would have to think on that one for a bit.

Suddenly, the sound of Tressa's voice snapped her back to reality.

"Primrose!" the merchant was calling, waving her hand in front of the dancer's face. "You awake in there!?"

Primrose coughed lightly and shook her head to clear it. She hadn't quite realized she had been spacing out for so long - it looked as though the other three women were starting to become concerned for her.

Still, she couldn't exactly let them in on all she had been pondering, could she? Not until she found a clear answer, at least.

"Oh, would you look at that?" she said loudly, before any of the others could question her. "We're out of drinks. I suppose we should call it a day." The dancer stood, sweeping their empty tankards off of the table and into her arms. "It's been fun, ladies. Let's chat again soon."

As H'aanit and Ophilia shared a silent, perplexed glance, Primrose turned on her heel and headed towards the bar to return their used drinkware to the tavern keeper. Tressa jumped up, her chair squeaking loudly against the wooden floor as she shoved it back.

"B-But we're not done here yet!" the young merchant shouted after Primrose's retreating back. "Primrose…? Come back, Primrose!"

The dancer merely chuckled and called back over her shoulder, "I'm sorry, Tressa, but if you really want to know which aspects of a man I most favor, then I'm afraid I'll have to wait and tell you when you're older!"

Ophilia squeaked, her face instantly turning several shades redder at the implication, while H'aanit stifled a snort with one of her gauntlets. Tressa, meanwhile, still looked bewildered.

"W-What!?" she exclaimed. "What's that supposed to mean!? Don't tease me like that, you sound like Therion!"

Primrose didn't turn back again, though a small smirk crossed her lips as she made her way to the bar. She and the thief did have quite a bit in common, didn't they? Well…that just meant there was all the more reason to experiment and see what would happen.

See you guys next week for Tale 3: Light!