Took a break from revising to do some… well, revising, but this kind adds a lot more words.
“So, what was your plan, mademoiselle?” Gerard asked as they walked through the halls. The tone was as carefully picked as the title of address; he wanted to see how she reacted, here where it was relatively safe to do so.
He had to admit, she handled both well; he flattered himself it was because of his good example. There was not even a hint of petulance in her tone when she replied, “I was to make my way to where my brother is immured, putting to sleep any impediments I could not avoid along the way. Then, once I had gained entrance to my brother’s rooms, we would flee this place entirely. Let the… enemy… have it.”
Well, at least she didn’t say ‘Gaillic bastards,’ thought Gerard. Although ‘enemy’ is quite bad enough. Aloud, he said, “I take it you have already worked out the flaws in this plan?”
“I did.” Tempeste looked at him with an unwavering gaze. “But I had no better one. My trustworthy servants are no longer here, and my brother’s men are dead, or… fled.”