In The Mood For A Melody? [Isabel]

[Tybalt]

The life of a nomad was indeed a wonderful one! Tybalt had been craving adventure for nearly all his life and eventually, he had found it. The first adventure had been marriage, before it ended it tragedy, but that had been many years ago. And it had not been before he had the blessing of a daughter. His pride and joy! Oh how he missed her, yet he knew that with every step he took, he was building her future. He was providing for her. Taking care of her. It was what kept him going and what made the days apart from her all the more bearable. Either way, he was loving every day of this. Adventures were more fun when you had someone to share them with however. So he was always searching for company. For now, he was wandering through the woods of a kingdom he had not yet discovered the name of. As he had not yet been to the city. He was dressed in his layered attire, with his cittern [medieval version of a small guittar] strapped across him, the strap over his chest at a diagonal and the instrument itself on his back.

He never carried a sword, but had his handy slingshot in his pocket if ever there should be a need for it. It was truly a beautiful day! The sun was shining and Tybalt was already quietly humming a tune to himself as he could have sworn there was a little skip every few steps he took. It was not rare for him to be in a good mood for he was truly one who enjoyed almost every aspect of life. As he pressed on his aimless wander, he suddenly froze. In the distance he saw something that made this day all the more beautiful. This time, it had nothing to do with the shining sun, nor the clear blue sky. But rather, the nature of which God created women. For up ahead, there was the most bewitching woman. Even from this distance he could tell how ravishing she was. A smile formed on his lips as he just watched her for a few moments. He may not know her but the way she carried herself and her style of dress indicated that she was above the status of a peasant.

Now, Tybalt was like any man. Taking advantage of being in the presence of a beautiful woman by offering his own company. If anything, he hoped to make a friend from this. He knew his place in society, but that did not mean they couldn't be civil toward each other. He never quite took anything too seriously after all. His work led him to meet others above his rank, but never quite in privacy, like right now. He knew his place but that did not mean he could not speak a little to a woman who was clearly alone. He would forever remain an opportunist. And right now, he saw an opportune moment for she was by herself and she was exquisitely beautiful. That was all the reason he needed to approach her. Knowing that he was clad in less than extravagant clothing, he would have to focus on his only strength that could hopefully capture her attention: music. Finally stepping closer towards her, he made sure not to sneak up on her.

No woman liked to feel like they were being watched or stalked, and Tybalt was not going to get off to such a terrible start. "My dear Lady, please forgive the disturbance," he began to say as he held out his hands and lowered the upper half of his body in a dramatic bow. He had his instrument and the proper attire: he could pretend that he was nothing more or less than a minstrel; which was was. He raised himself once more to make her eye level. "But to possess the privilege to lay eyes upon such beauty and simply pass by would be a sin. For you have posed as such an inspiration to me." Ah yes. The role of a minstrel. Every woman loved a good song, did they not? Furthermore, did they not like to hear such praise? Maybe she would be different, but maybe she would not. Either way, Tybalt stood there, awaiting her reaction to know where to go from here.

[Isabel de Massard]

Isabel was rather enjoying a walk through the forest. It made a change from the hustle and bustle of the castle. There was always someone wanting to make her acquaintance, always someone she had to charm and entice. And Arthur...well...that could all be left inside the castle. Even though she had been nobility for quite some time now she still couldn't get used to the constant people. They were everywhere. If it wasn't other nobles trying to get her attention it was servants, constantly trying to do everything, never letting her have a moment's peace. Back in Cantia things were very different. She had very few servants of her own, and much of her socialising was with a very small circle of "friends". Here in Camelot she was beginning to feel the need for a walk at least once a day. She was lucky that it was such a beautiful day, so in need of some privacy was she that even if it was raining she would still be outside, so the weather was certainly only improving her mood.

The forest here was quite unlike any in Cantia. It was far denser for a start, and large enough to ensure some time to herse-

"My dear Lady, please forfive the disturbance."

Oh how nice. Isabel regarded the man who was now making a show of himself in front of her. She inclined her head to one side as he bowed and raised her eyebrows. He was either a fool or a showman, neither one was something she held in any particular guard. This encounter was surely going to ruin her mood.

It was safe to assume Isabel wasn't impressed. Eyebrows still raised, she put her hands on her hips. "Posed as such as inspiration"? How curious. And here was her thinking he was just a chancer who'd found himself a young woman by herself. And he was a commoner. She could forgive his manners if he was a prince, maybe if he was a noble, but a commoner? Well, she had to admire his confidence, she supposed... "And what, pray tell, have I done to inspire you?" If he thought he was being charming, he was sorely mistaken.

[Tybalt]

Despite her disinterest he supposed it could be called, he did not feel discouraged. He could not expect her to instantly trust him. After all, he was but a stranger in the woods! Which was why he often made it a point to make his occupation known, for no one could suspect an innocent minstrel from doing anything shady. Or having less than kind intentions toward another. Her words only caused his smile to widen. She seemed so modest! Clearly Tybalt was misinterpreting the reasons for her words, but he tended to see the good in everything and everyone. She was certainly no exception. "You have done nothing deliberate," he began to say. Though he felt the need to further explain. "Your mere existence has caused such inspiration to pierce this minstrel's heart."

There, his profession was not revealed. Not that it wasn't overly obvious with an instrument strapped to his back. Then again, any fool could have a instrument to play. What mattered was, how skilled they were with it. That, was what marked a true minstrel! What separated an honest musical man from a poser who tried to sing and fail to woo women. While serenading women was not the purpose of his work, it certainly was a fun perk! "And so if you permit me, I should like to reveal how your beauty has inspired such poetic words to strike my mind." He was already reaching for his cittern, showing that he was serious in what he said. But did not want to start bursting out in song if she was going to protest. If she did not wish to hear it, then all it meant was that he would need do a little more convincing.

[Isabel de Massard]

The situation was not getting any better. What was it with men and thinking that with only a few words a woman would be theirs? It was an insult to her sex. She took a step towards him, looking him up and down. She couldn't deny the fact that he was a handsome man, but he was poor and of little consequence. It was quite obvious that she was not the only woman who had "inspired" him so, she might not even be the first that day. Well, she certainly wasn't going to be charmed by any of it. It took a lot more than a smile and some rehearsed lines to turn Isabel's head. Well, most of the time it just took some money and a title, but even so, this man clearly had neither was therefore a waste of her time.

She had to admire his confidence though. Not many people of his standing would dare to speak to a woman of hers. Perhaps he had ideas above his station. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Here she was, thinking how this man shouldn't be speaking to her, thinking about how lowly he was in comparison when only a few months ago she was perhaps even lower. Well, it just proved how much of a time waster the man really was. If she could raise herself to the nobility so could anyone. Remaining poor was just laziness. She stopped her thoughts - now she was just rambling while the man was clearly expecting an answer. All she wanted to do was have a nice, quiet walk, but it seemed the fates were against her. Well then. She supposed it wouldn't be a complete waste of her time to continue to talk to the man, and she had no other plans today (and something told her that he wouldn't be giving up that easily. Men). "Would it make any difference if I said no?"