"You dare?"

The words fall from his lips in the form of a sneer as he lands another hit on a man bruised and bleeding on the floor. Your betrothed swings and hits the man over and over, having no ounce of sympathy for the bastard.

"That person was my fiance, and you dared to use your filthy tongue to speak to them?"

Scaramouche then notices you from the corner of his eye and he straightens up, giving you a fond smile.

"Good evening, my betrothed. What're you doing here at this hour?"