Guian (A High Fantasy)

An Unexpected Visit

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains some sexual violence.

Gwen was almost ready to blow out her candles when there was a knock at the door.

She probably jumped three feet in the air. It had been a week since Xavier awoke and she released he and Frost from the infirmary, and besides Xavier's promised fighting lessons, it had been relatively quiet. No one had come to see her this late in, well, a long time.

There was another quick knock, and then the door flew open.

In the doorway stood the General.

Gwen realized her mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it.

"General!" Gwen pulled her shawl around her to cover her body, partially because she had begun to shiver in the night air, and also because her slip felt too intimate. "I wasn't expecting you this late. What brings you here at this hour?"

"Gwen Eris," the General sounded menacing. "I think you know exactly what brings me here."

Gwen shivered, and this time, it wasn't from the cold.

"Your brother was a failure. Wrecked by love..." his nose curled at the word. The General brushed a finger over Gwen's jawline. Behind her back, her fists clenched. "I have to say, I've found myself wrecked by something else."

His hand dropped, but Gwen calmly turned around, avoiding his touch. She began to pace the room. His eyes followed her like he was a predator, and she was his prey.

"Gwen, you, too, have been something of a... disappointment. You tried to kill another soldier, you've been meeting others in secret--oh, don't look so surprised, you're aware River's been tracking you--so I'm going to give you two options."

Gwen had forgotten to continue pacing in her surprise over the General's knowledge of her meetings with Xavier and Frost. They weren't secret, not the way the General had said, but she hadn't publicized their existence either. She didn't need the General knowing she was learning to fight.

Gwen hadn't realized she was backing up until her back hit the wall, and the General was only a few feet in front of her. Before she realized what was happening, he had trapped her against the wall, his arms supporting his weight on the wall behind her.

"You can kill those boys, Xavier and Aaron--finish what I started--" his breath was cool, too clean for barrack life, "or spend your nights in my pavilion." He slipped one hand under her shawl, cupping her breast over her slip. He ran his thumb over her nipple, almost tenderly. Gwen resisted the urge to squirm, to spit in his face, to knee him in the nuts. The General brought his face to her neck and began to nibble. It wasn't romantic in any respect--it was hungry. He craved her. Gwen shoved him off of her.

He was angry.

"I'll consider your offer, General. Goodnight." Gwen silently pleaded for him to walk to the door. Thankfully, he did. In the moonlight, she could make out the redness of his face. She inwardly cringed. She'd just handed herself an equivalent death sentence. He slammed the door.

She could sleep with the General, kill the only two people she could maybe call friends, or die herself.

For once, Gwen was at a loss for what to do.