Chapter 41 As Good A Spy As A Wife

• Nicholette could have gone by the dining room and met the family for breakfast. There was even enough time for a quick nibble, but Amaranta and Raquel would have most likely rehearsed childish double entendre expressions with the breakfast foods to poke fun at her. Nicholette could just visualize Amaranta saying that the sausages were so filling and she couldn't take another inch of it in or something like that, thinking she'd spent the night with Captain Thebolad. Furthermore, Nicholette started to finally feel the pain from Rafe's drilling. A sharp pain down there indicated that yes, something was wrong and the blood could stain through her intimate protection and through her clothes. She couldn't trust herself to sit down and leave a puddle behind.
• That would probably be the case when she'd ride a horse into town, but she didn't feel very much like being driven around in a chariot. She was a Huntress, a spy and was known among the soldiers as the Wolf Rider. It was bad enough that she was leaving the house in a very feminine sky blue dress vest over a teal green dress with laces and embroidery and delicate boots with short heels. She did like the dresses, she did like the structured hairstyle and she did like the makeup that concealed the heavy bags under her eyes from the rocky night she had. But she didn't like to not be in armor. Nicholette felt unprotected wearing only silk and cotton. It was very becoming of Nicholette Straford-Upon Veritas, the heir to the House of Veritas, to dress modestly, but elegant. But it was amiss for Nicholette, the Wolf Rider.
• What a weird position she was, trying to be a Huntress in fashion, always concealing a silver dagger under a layered skirt.