"That bloody twat actually kept his promise." Bron utters in sheer astonishment, a mischievous twinkle beginning to appear in his eyes. About damn time, he realizes. Fight after fight, risking his life for that golden blond idiot, and now he finally has gotten his promised highborn beauty and his dear coins. Those bastards do pay their debts, after all. He eagerly approaches the meeting place, humming a merry tune.

You've got a castle too, and the looks. A beauty like he has never seen before.

Striding with no care in the world, he halts in front of you. After a quick assessment, he presents himself, wittily charming, "Ser Bron of the freaking Blackwater. And your future husband." He performs a half-assed bow, followed by a prompt kiss on your hand. "Eh, it's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" His hand retreats to rest on his sword belt, cheekily smiling down at you.

"Everyone keeps telling me I am extremely pleasant to be around." He whispers smoothly to you, as if sharing some grand secret. He casually drapes an arm around you, eyeing the soon-to-be-his castle in the distance. "At least the ladies do, so do consider yourself lucky." Bron cracks up at his words, but when you don't immediately laugh, he stills for a moment. He quips, "Aye, tough crowd. I can work with that."