Cullen was also wary. He didn't trust the woman beyond the fact that she was a shrewd businesswoman who knew that if something happened to two important people in Kirkwall in her establishment, it would be her ruin, and Meredith's focused wrath could very well shake the foundations of the Coterie in the city. His ears burned when one of the off duty whores shot him a lascivious smile and hiked her skirt. He very quickly found an elsewhere to look, his lips pressed in a thin, unamused line.
Madame Lusine settled them in a small sitting room with a fire going in the hearth. "Over here, both of you," she said in her most business-like tone of voice. She indicated two chairs with an offhand gesture while she approached a small locked chest occupying part of one of the bookshelves. She fished a key from a pouch at her belt and unlocked it. "You'll want to take those trousers down, Knight-Captain. Trust me when I say there's nothing I haven't seen." She glanced at him over her shoulder. "You can leave your smalls up if you're shy."
Cullen frowned deeply, unsure if she was having him on or serious. "I don't think--" he began.
She cut him off. "I'm not asking you to think. I'm telling you that if you want my help, I need to see that leg." She glanced at Hawke. "Are you hurt anywhere else than that pretty face of yours?"
He didn't like her tone, and he was quickly coming to regret having suggested this. Surely they could have made it further? Grumbling under his breath, he unfastened the lacing of his breeches and pulled them down just enough to reveal the slice. For not being terribly deep, it was nasty, the skin swollen and livid with several blisters all along the edges. The acid seemed to have spread as he bled and sweated, the chemical burn a good bit larger than the slice. That explained the burning.
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Madame Lusine settled them in a small sitting room with a fire going in the hearth. "Over here, both of you," she said in her most business-like tone of voice. She indicated two chairs with an offhand gesture while she approached a small locked chest occupying part of one of the bookshelves. She fished a key from a pouch at her belt and unlocked it. "You'll want to take those trousers down, Knight-Captain. Trust me when I say there's nothing I haven't seen." She glanced at him over her shoulder. "You can leave your smalls up if you're shy."
Cullen frowned deeply, unsure if she was having him on or serious. "I don't think--" he began.
She cut him off. "I'm not asking you to think. I'm telling you that if you want my help, I need to see that leg." She glanced at Hawke. "Are you hurt anywhere else than that pretty face of yours?"
He didn't like her tone, and he was quickly coming to regret having suggested this. Surely they could have made it further? Grumbling under his breath, he unfastened the lacing of his breeches and pulled them down just enough to reveal the slice. For not being terribly deep, it was nasty, the skin swollen and livid with several blisters all along the edges. The acid seemed to have spread as he bled and sweated, the chemical burn a good bit larger than the slice. That explained the burning.