[ Kel bows again, hiding her alarm at his invitation. She looks up at him from under her bangs, still holding the bow. Lord Wyldon would probably set her to scrubbing every latrine in the palace if she referred to a lord by a nickname.

So what does she do? She could call him 'my Lord' anyway, but that would be disrespecting his request. ]

Thank you, sir.

[ There. A compromise. She straightens, studying their surroundings and carefully avoiding looking right at the drop toward the lake. It still tingles at the edge of her awareness like an unscratched itch. ] There must be a way out of this. We came here somehow. We should be able to leave the same way.

[ She looks up at him again, realizing that she just contradicted him openly. ] If you would forgive my saying so.