1705. Luck had never been on Eleanora Finley's side. After her father died in a tragic fire, she was left at the mercy of her domineering and abusive mother, being deprived of all love and affection.
Truly, who would have thought that the simple red...
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1715, Forest of Eglad, Devereaux
"Wake up, woman!" she heard a voice yell as he shook her awake. She looked down at her hands to see that they were no longer bound together by the ropes, but she was still far away from being free.
In her dazed state, she glanced at the man in front of her, his face mere inches from hers. "Your lover boy is here," he hissed, his eyes bright with excitement, like a predator that just spotted a prey.
That single statement immediately left Eleanora wide awake, and she found herself staring at the man in shock. "Nicholas is here?" she stammered.
"He is," the Grimead laughed. "Such a contradictory man, is he not? The Grand Duke has immense power, but he is unlucky to have fallen for a weak woman like you. Alas, everyone has their faults."
He then stroked her cheek gently, his calloused fingers running along her pale skin. "Besides, if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have managed to lure him here. I suppose that we, the Grimeads, owe you now. It is too bad that we must kill you either way."
At that moment, she could hear the sound of horses neighing in the distance, as well as the blaring noise of a horn being blown, scaring away the black crows that perched on the topmost branches. The man smiled at her.
"Hear that? There he is, marching to his own grave."
Eleanora's blood ran cold upon hearing those words. "You will not be able to kill him. He is far stronger than any of you, and you will be lucky to even land a finger on him."
A chuckle escapes the man's lips. "I'd like to see if he'd dare to lift his sword against us if I held a dagger against your throat."
The horn blared again, and the clatter of horse hooves drew nearer and nearer. The Earth seemed to shake and quaver, and the sharp sound of metal rippled through the wind like whizzing arrows.
"Come now, the show is about to start."
With that, he dragged her by the arm, forcing her to stand up despite her weakened legs. The soles of her feet felt sore, and she had long lost all feeling in her right leg.
"Stop it!" she begged, but he did not stop. He pulled on her arm so hard that it almost popped out of its socket, the more she begged, the wider his grin grew, as if he relished in her suffering.
At last, he let go of her, sending her sprawling down on the ground. Eleanora tried to stand up, but the ground, she would soon discover, was uncharacteristically slippery. She brushed away the snow and debris that covered the top layer, revealing a clear sheet of ice underneath. The dark waters of the lake lurked below, awaiting like a dark abyss.
"It is such a shame that we had to meet in these circumstances," one of them said as he bent down beside her. "You are quite the beauty, Miss Lovett, and I see why the Grand Duke is in love with you. I wonder how anguished he will be if I ravished you like a common whore- AGH!"
