[ he looks at her, wordlessly -- his expression is not cold, nor is it hostile. he appears to be doing little more than thinking.

suddenly, he unsheathes his sword...and seconds afterward does he allow it clatter, as it drops to the ground. a hand now resting against his hip, percival looks towards caster, his features gentle yet firm in their resolve. ]

I will not kill you. It's my duty to protect the populace of the realm -- to protect the vulnerable, even if our origins may differ.

If you can't find it in your heart to believe me, you are welcome to take my blade for yourself. But I will not kill or harm you: I swear by this.