Lady in the Iron Mask

II: Chapter 8

"You girls... you have such a look about you," the man told them, eyeing them up suspiciously, "Are you sure you're only servants?"

Evie stood still, her features conveying a little bit of masked panic. She wasn't the type to have a Plan B. However, where Evie's strength came into play, so did Eve's logic. Eve threw herself at the feet of this man immediately after glaring at Evie to hide her expression.

Simpering, she gazed up at him.

"Why, Sir! This is why we have sought refuge with our relatives! Our mother, too, thought we would suit life better to work with...men," she whispered the last word dramatically, "And so, we had to flee! Our father, he tried to run my sister through with a sword, and we know not how to take care of such things, or even to wield a weapon!" Eve's frantic tones assured the man in front of them, and he gazed down at her in an almost predatorial way.

However, when he did so, he spotted the artistic sword still firmly grasped within Eve's hand. It was in a beautifully decorated scabbard, with a golden design beginning at the bottom, of a tree spreading its' branches up to the hilt of the sword. They swirled around the scabbard, and when it was tilted in the light, it shone victoriously. In various places, there were hints of shining emerald green, symbolising leaves falling.

"My...what a sword," he breathed, scratching at his itchy beard with a rough hand, "But why do you beautiful, young women have such a thing?" He grinned, showing a few stumps for teeth, and Eve had to stop herself from recoiling in disgust.

"Oh, this?" Eve grabbed the sword carelessly, drawing it out of the scabbard clumsily.

She knew he would be watching them closely if they appeared to have any skill at handling a weapon. Nevertheless, she winced when the tip of the sword knocked ungracefully against its scabbard. Her shaking, bloodied arms struggled to hold up the weapon, so it wasn't hard to pretend that she was normally weakened, and she let the tip of it fall down into the mud beside her, looking up at the man for mock-approval. He smiled, as you would before you cut a rabbit's throat.

Then, he glanced over at Evie. She, in return, bent into the lowest form of curtsey she could manage, crying out in pain but gritting her teeth nonetheless.

He stalked over to her, lifting her chin, now a brazen, cocky man. Eve saw his tattoo twitch out of the corner of one eye, and the way he lustily eyed up Evie. Internally, she laughed. He would almost certainly die if he attempted to lay hands on her. But looking at Evie right now, she was so pale and withdrawn. Her eyes were hollowed, and her tribal markings upon her torso and neck hidden by a high-collared cheap yet modest dress Eve had brought with her. She herself was dressed modestly: the journey to Port Regis required light feet. She was glad she had managed to force Evie into a dress, because not only did it cause her to appear beautiful, it also undermined her strength, hiding her muscly frame with long sleeves, and a loose bodice.

"My liege?" Evie enquired, actually pitching her voice to sound innocent and widening her eyes. "Whatever is it?"

He raised her from her curtsey as she panted from the exertion, but never did the look of pure naïvete leave her expression. Eve was both in awe and surprise at her acting skills, wondering how or why she had learnt them.

"You...are the finest specimen I have laid my starved eyes upon, my lady. I would be most honoured if you serve as my sacri- I mean, my woman."

Eve was startled by the request, and grabbed her sword. Suddenly, she felt like running this man through, approaching his back silently. But this time, it was Evie who shook her head, and Eve stopped, irritated.

"It would be the greatest pleasure, Sir." Evie smiled innocently, and a pang reverberated in Eve's heart: the act reminded her of Evangeline so strongly, and of her fate by the hands of the 'Brotherhood' whom this man was also a part of.

Almost eagerly, the man in front of her introduced himself.

"I'm Scott. Very pleasant to meet you." And then turned and beckoned, almost as you would to a bunch of whores, for Evie and Eve to follow him. "Come," was the last thing he said to them that day.

As Evie and Eve trailed behind him on Buck, Evie whispered to Eve.

"Are you going to tell me why I just sucked up to that ugly prick, or will I have to guess?"

Eve sighed.

"I'm sorry about that, you didn't have to. We could have easily killed him, I'm almost certain."

"Don't be too sure," Eve muttered seriously, "His skill with a bow is first-class. Did you see how he dispatched that beast? He knew exactly where to hit it. We must be careful, unless we want to end up with the same fate."

Eve smiled, sitting upright in the saddle confidently.

"We?" She asked. "Does that mean that you've begun to trust and like me?"

"Well...I meant to say- look, you're making everything awkward. All I was saying is that you've saved this life twice, and I need to repay you. Don't overthink it."

But Eve could see that Evie was blushing in front of her, and that made her happy. At one point, she had truly disliked Evie, thinking she was like the others. But now she knew that she was only extremely shy and for some reasons which were unknown to her, didn't trust others very easily.

"Okay. Let's forget that for now. I'll tell you though, that damn bastard has a hold of my real sister, or at least, the 'Brotherhood' does. I intend to get her back, whether I slit every man's throat in the room or not." Eve seethed.

Whenever she thought about what her sister was being put through, it made her anger more fearsome, more deadly. Evie could tell that Eve was also not one to be messed with or underestimated, as she once suspected. This woman was cunning, intelligent and knew what she wanted. For some reason, Evie liked that, finding it relatable.

And so, as the viper led them into the nest, Eve and Evie began conspiring, on how to save Kiera, find the other members of their party, and take down the Brotherhood.