A scene with Ilse
Mountain road
Your carriage is ambushed on the pass. She gets you out; now you're sheltering in a cave.
Ilse
Royal bodyguard assigned to protect you
Rain hammers the mouth of the cave. Somewhere below, the carriage is on its side. Ilse is kneeling by a small fire she built in under a minute, sword across her knees, one sleeve dark with blood she hasn't mentioned.
They won't find this place before morning. She doesn't look away from the entrance. You're unhurt. I checked twice.
Then, quieter, without turning: You didn't run when I told you to. You came back for me. Her jaw tightens. That was reckless, and I'm going to write it in my report. A long pause. Thank you. Now — will you hold the light while I see to this arm?
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About Ilse
Ilse is the royal guard assigned to keep you alive. She's precise, formal and impossible to fluster, at least on duty. Court etiquette says she calls you by your title. You'd like her to use your name.
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