Nym

A bit more of this and this. Shane's POV this time:

Shane sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and turned away from the glass before he could be tempted to touch his neckcloth again. The small sword hanging at his side slapped against his thigh at the sudden movement, and Shane sighed again.

The court sword had belonged to his grandfather and was an elegant little thing, with its faceted and burnished hilt, and swirl of gold along the narrow blade, but a world away from the substantial and trusty sabre that Shane had carried into battle with him not so very long ago. He wondered if the sword had seen action - gentlemen had dueled with just such weapons in his grandfather's day - but even if it had, he could not view it as anything but a beautiful, gilded toy. It was at one with the rest of his get-up this morning, formal court dress in strict adherence to the regulations laid down by the Lord Chamberlain. While his court suit had a certain military style to it, with its long-tailed blue coat and high standing collar, no true officer's uniform had ever been so lavishly embroidered, or paired with old-fashioned knee breeches of velvet, silk stockings and shiny-buckled shoes.

He felt ridiculous.