Chapter Text
From his table in the corner, Richard watches.
Every now and again the scholar tosses back his hair, sable and chestnut flowing rich and thick as velvet. His fingers shuffling the cards are long, slender, well-formed, though the nails are bitten to the quick. Surveying the room for his next mark, his eyes catch Richard's, just for a moment. Surprisingly, he blushes; bites his lip and looks away.
Ahhh, interesting, Richard thinks, smiling as he gestures to the barmaid. When the scholar reaches for his drink, finding warm spiced wine in place of watery ale, he'll know whom to thank.