ã€ŠA Mark of Metalã€‹


 Chapter One

    ???

    Scurrying over to the cream painted fridge, I slide the pre-made sausage rolls into my pink, floral, picnic bag. Wait, was I supposed to make desserts instead? I wonder while zipping up my bag. Oh well, too late now. I shrug, knowing there¡¯s no time to do anything. I dart my eyes to the small analogue clock hanging on the wall.

    Ah shit¡­

    I increase the pace , rushing out of the kitchen towards the doorway of my now empty house. I unfasten the buckles of my leather sandals and slide them on, unconsciously glancing up at the family portrait on the wall, looking longingly at my father. The house hasn¡¯t been the same since he died. He had sickle cell anemia, a disease where red blood cells don¡¯t get enough oxygen, well at least that¡¯s what we think? As almost all his cells didn''t regenerate, no matter the amount of donor transplants he received. His passing unhinged my mother and she began talking about bizarre incoherent things. So crazy it drove my brother away, he couldn¡¯t stand me ¡®entertaining¡¯ her delusions, always insisting on beating her down with the truth every, single, damn time. It broke my heart to see my poor mother struck with the reality of a truly dead husband and knowing her own distress has pushed her children away. Anguished by her loss she admitted herself into a care home, though I still talk to her whenever I can.

    Bringing out my phone, I quickly flip it open and look at the time. I¡¯m so late¡­I grab the keys off the rack and throw them into my bag, swinging the door open and head out in a sprint. I miraculously make it to the bus, paying the fare and settling down onto my seat, I lean against the cool window, a luxury in contrast to the warmer environment outside. I stare out into my grim, dated town filled with eyesore tower buildings and miserable people. I can¡¯t wait for my contract at the school to end so I can move out of this suffocating town. No one can thrive in these nineties plastic cities with no heart or opportunities to succeed.

    As we pull into the bus station, I hop off the bus into the glass fishbowl of a station, and walk towards the ¡®meeting place¡¯ and wince. Amelia, Ellie and Millie stand there with a disappointed look. Yeah yeah I know I''m late, so what? I think as  I jog over to them and apologise for my lack of time management. We have a quick conversation as we get on our next bus, the chariot to our deliciously beautiful destination, all words intended as I know Ellie brought victoria sponge cake. I¡¯ve never been more excited for a ladies day out than when cake is involved.

    Getting on the bus, we watch as the view shifts from our decrepit, meek town and its crowded, dirty streets, to where hilly fields and flowered covered plains meet a dense woodland forest. Finally, nature''s bliss! Getting off, we walk to where we can see the high summer sun strike the tall leafy trees, strike them in such a way that it looked as if it was creating a world where only streams of light flow. Sitting beside the trees on the edge of the woodland, we survey the wild fields of tall flowers where the occasional rabbits pass. The overwhelming sense of calmness and freedom arises like I can lay dormant forever just staring at the view. As if the encapsulating beauty of the landscape is unconsciously draining you of all your worries and impurities. As if nothing mattered in this view of flowing grass and colourful vegetation.

    A feeling that everything is fine, where my mother is herself, my brother isn¡¯t astray and father¡­alive. I ignore the twinge in my chest, and join in the laughter with my close friends as we pluck the tomatoes out of our sandwiches, as if they were diseased and to eat them would kill you instantly.

    ¡°Good for the plants.¡± I laugh, as if I had to justify my childish palate of disliking certain veggies. We all nod in unison to the justified hate of tomatoes.

    "It''s quite nice that we all can meet up, even if it''s only during the holidays." Amelia, a dear friend of mine, mentions.

    It is nice. It¡¯s difficult to keep connections when your fast approaching unpredictable adult life is seemingly being thrust upon you. Yet for moments like these where we can meet up and act as if our age and time away from each other has never changed, it is nice.

    Nevermind amusing, seeing how time has changed the people you used to watch, anxiously approach their school crushes and horribly fail into an exploding mess of words, and cry about it afterwards.

    "It is nice...So nice in fact, that I feel as if we need to do something, to maybe¡­Well, I don''t know...Walk off our lunch? Or hide our lunch." Ellie smiles, pinching the side of my stomach playfully, causing me to give her a smug side eye. The gall of that girl!

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    Ellie gets up and runs into the dimly lit forest giggling and looking back at us, as if urging us with her eyes and her body to come and play with her, just as though we were no longer a scatter of women in our early 20s, but 12 all over again.

    Those of us still sitting at the picnic just look at each other and unanimously agree to ignore the norms society has agreed for our age. In unison we get up and run towards Ellie, laughing and pushing each other along the way.

    I lift my long blue skirt and run, jump and wheeze trying to catch up with Ellie..Man I need to get into shape..

    Catching up to her, I tackle her to the ground, laughing as we both turn to face the sky for a brief moment to catch our breaths. Calming ourselves down briefly, we slowly get up as the others catch up with us from playing between themselves on the journey into the dense woodland.

    "Should we go to the pond? I want to wash my hands." Amelia suggests to the group. Causing Milie to speak up in turn.

    "Is that really true, or are you going to pluck the reeds from the pond and chase us again?" Millie questions with her arms crossed, remembering our last visit to the pond .

    Amelia just stares at her as if she''s a deer in the headlights.

    "Uhh¡­I''m unwilling to answer that." She adds before walking off into the direction of the pond.

    "We might as well go, something to add to our adventure before we catch the bus home." I add, pushing Millie and Ellie into the direction of the small body of water.

    Along the way to the pond, we make sure to distance ourselves away from the edge of the path where a steep slope runs along one side. It''s not a big slope, yet it''s still slippery and steep enough that you could sprain an ankle or two. Nevermind the dense shrubbery located along the slope and base, that would most definitely cause a nasty bruise or cut.

    So either way, it''s best to stay on the side of the path where there''s flat land next to it and not a steep slope of a bruiseful fall.

    The line of trees on either side of the path become less dense as a small opening between them show the hidden away small nestle of a pond surrounded by sparse amounts of reeds. Amelia and Ellie rush to the pond to wash away the dirt and grime on their hands as Mille and I slowly make our way towards them. I hoist my skirt to just above my knees and kneel on the dry ground dipping my hands into the lukewarm water, turning to see Millie doing the same. Serenity captures me once again, well atleast I thought so until a cold and wet sensation hit my hair and giggles followed suit.

    ¡°Hehe whoops¡­¡± Ellie sheepishly grins holding her hands to her mouth as if it was a great accident.

    ¡°Oh you¡¯re¡­SO ON!¡± I shout, collecting a handful of water in my hands, clambering to my feet and rushing towards Ellie as she playfully screams and runs back towards the direction we came from.

    Gaining on her I threw the water towards her, missing completely, yet having fun in the chase. Though it quickly dawns on me that I am without any weapons in my arsenal, I am completely defenceless against this lunatic. I stare at her blankly as she slowly turns to me and gives me the deepest devilish grin. Run!

    I squeal as I turn to run away, ducking into the wooded surroundings to escape my foe. I find cover behind a tree a distance away from where the pond is.

    I catch my breath as I wait out Ellie¡¯s attempts to find me. Hearing a noise in front of me, I peer out from behind the tree to see a shadow race past the small collection of trees on the other side of the path. Holding my breath , I creep out and follow the track I think the shadow goes. I hear a rustling noise and spin towards it to see the shadow just pass a tree. Idiot I see you. Swiftly changing my movements I run towards the shadow. Envisioning my soon to be victory in slow motion, I reach my hand out in front of me, hoping to catch Ellie by surprise but in a large stride forward, the dense trees before me dissipate.

    Time and comprehension evade me as I cross the path and tetter on the edge of the slope . The shadow appears before my last stride as I lose the fight with gravity and suddenly time seems to slow, I turn to face the shadow that guided me to my eventual fall. Dad? Before I can even come to terms with who or what I saw, I register the steep slope before me filled with dense prickly shrubbery. As I hit the ground I watch as my world moves quickly as I''m propelled down the slope to the forest floor. I instinctively throw my arms up shielding myself from sharp thorns, countless branches and prickly plants. Before I lose consciousness, I swear I can see a ring of white mushrooms and then life as I know it is blacked out.

    Weightlessness, as if I was floating on water, the feeling encapsulates my semi conscious state. It feels like a familiar sensation from my childhood, when my family and I had gone to the local baths, and I had found enjoyment in drifting aimlessly on the surface of the pool. Feeling as though I was completely unaffected by my own mass, a surreal moment of bliss and calmness.

    Yet this feels different from that quaint sensation, more ominous...As if I had fallen into a hole I couldn''t quite reach out of. Or if I had tumbled into a place where my soul didn¡¯t wholly belong.

    A feeling of dread and hopelessness fill me as my body lay bruised and battered on the now flat ground.

 Chapter Two

    Awareness returns painfully, the light of the setting sun sears my eyes. As I adjust, I am met by a sky awash with hues of amber and purple. At the edge of my vision, the tall dark silent trees of the forest jolt me back to reality.

    ¡°G-guys?¡± I whimper out, attempting to push myself up to no avail. I sigh, thinking this is what I get for being a 23 year old woman playing tag in the woods with her friends, God forbid a woman have hobbies. I wince, as my body starts to remind me of my injuries; thorn nicks to my arms, a large weeping gash as well as a shit-load of scratches and bruises, making me feel stupid over my actions. Muttering obscenities under my breath, I try to dust off some earth and leaf debris and with a held breath and determination, I slowly push myself and rise to a seated position. .

    What the hell?

    Questions plague my mind as I observe that the forest that appeared dense before was somehow denser, and there was a strange, almost bioluminescent light creating a deep blue hue within the woodland. The glowing of the lights becomes stronger with the slow descent of the sun. The sheer wonderment of what I am witnessing, makes me momentarily forget my predicament. Waving my hand in front of my face seems to create a trail of soft lights. I decide to put my big girl pants on and try to get back to my friends. I stand and head in the direction I assume I have come from, past overgrown hedges and heavily foliaged trees, looking for any opening into a familiar view.

    Haven¡¯t I seen that tree before? Or not? A forest has lots of trees¡­No, no..i¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s the same tree as before. I mean how many trees look like they have a dick.

    I sigh in defeat and lean against the very male looking tree, barely containing the overwhelming feelings of embarrassment and despair of getting lost in a woods I was so familiar with. My momentary self reflection is interrupted by the sounds of chains, weights and heavy footsteps. A symphony of sounds that sends a chill down my spine for some reason, despite all reasonable explanations telling me that it must be a search party sent out for me. But I don¡¯t move, my instincts telling me to stay still and quiet.

    I cover my mouth, still leaning against the tree and attempt to hold my breath. The sounds become louder, and the distinct noise of wagons, carts and horses are soon evident.

    Why can¡¯t I turn around? It¡¯s probably a company of rescuers who¡¯ve heard of my disappearance, so why can¡¯t I turn around?

    Yet the feeling of dread remains, a feeling so threatening that my mind screams that if I move, I will perish¡­

    As the sound of wagons get closer, the distinct smell of waste and gloom made by the movement of these mobile structures sweep towards me. I continue to hold my breath, hoping that my silence hasn''t given away my position to those only a few steps ahead of me. I listen as the sound becomes distant, I unconsciously let out a breath of relief as I feel the sense of danger evaporate.

    As weird unrecognisable bird whistles ring out, a hand suddenly clasps over my mouth pulling from the safety of the trees and into an unknown person¡¯s back.

    "Keep Still. Move an inch and I''ll cut you down." A breathy threat snarls in my ear, accompanied by a sudden chilling feel of cold metal on my throat causing my body to freeze instantly, as if it knew this would be the moment I could die.

    The hand of the unknown man grabs the scruff of my neck and pushes me forward to face the once noisy commotion of movement. I stare in shock at the long line of men on horses, wagons and on foot. The sight looked morbid. Grime, dirt and blood covered the men, as if they had just paved their way through a merciless war and was showered with the outcome. The view in its entirety was so bizarrely out of place that I couldn¡¯t even attempt to utter a word of my presence or to even question what I was seeing. To me, there was no way for my 20st century mind to even comprehend the sight before me. The sheer stench of men unbathed due to travails and service was too strong to even compare to any smell I had come across in my life. Their looks of grief stained by combat and bloodshed was too surreal to even counter with a modern explanation.

    There was no way these men had come from a movie set, some real life roleplay of fantasy characters or even a possible convention. No, these men had truly faced a the horrors of war and their 1000 mile stares or blank looks attested to that fact.

    "It''s a woman." The man still holding me, bellows to the men on horses.

    Keeping my mouth clamped shut, I watch as the men look between themselves as if to decide the proper course of action. A man wearing an outfit similar to a Teutonic knight comes forth leaping down from his horse, holding the hilt of his sword steady as if ready for an unexpected attack. He grabs my arms and looks at the scratches.

    ¡°Just a woman, she is of no use to us.¡± The knight speaks from his helmet as he looks at the man holding me, then proceeds to squint in thought. ¡°Yet alone in the sacred forest. Strange¡­Bring her, the lord will need to question her whereabouts¡±.

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    The man pushes me forward towards a filled wagon near the end of the troop of men. Grasping my waist he hoists me up onto the edge of the wagon, as if I weighed less than a bag of rice to him, and I¡¯ll let you know I definitely weigh more than a bag of rice . He holds his hands out in a request for me to display my wrists, and in no position to protest, I put my wrists out to him and he quickly secures them with a coarse rope. Moving along the wagon, he ushers me to move down so that I am sat abreast to the tied up dubious men within. I slowly scooch myself into the wagon, being careful to avoid the crooked looking man beside me. The wagon is closed up, containing us all inside, seeing no escape from this situation I take to looking at the sky.

    What just happened¡­?

    I stare blankly at the dark night clouds, irritated by my lack of willpower to do literally anything other than just stand there, like a child who has been caught doing something mischievous or naughty. I awkwardly grab my head with my tethered hands. Why didn''t I say anything?!? I can¡¯t believe I''ve just let myself be kidnapped so easily!

    ¡°Arak ka laverki na!¡± The man next to me laughs, causing the other men on the wagon to glance over to me and stifle a chuckle.

    A large man in the corner of the wagon opposite me, tilts his head towards the shifty looking man beside me, adding his own comments, ¡°Peveraki ka naveriki na.¡± He eerily sneers, looking at me. I follow his line of sight to discover he was looking at my exposed calves, I pull my skirt down over them and all of them laugh. A soldier on a horse riding next to us smacks the head of the creepy man next to me.

    ¡°Shut up you Eivan criminal. Or you¡¯ll be walking the length to Arrton.¡± The assault causes the creep to sneer, turning his head to spit out of the wagon in disrespect to the soldier.

    I hope this isn¡¯t hell.

    cxxx{}::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

    The droning silence among all the men in the troop persists, as they gaze upon the imposing scenery as we travel to our unknown destination. Unexpectedly,the silence was broken by the arrival of a chainmail clad soldier on an auburn horse causing the wagon train to halt. He rides up to the knight at the front of our travelling troop to deliver his message.

    ¡°Sir, we have set up camp a ways ahead on the great plains before Arrton. The marker for the camp is etched onto a large slanted stone.¡± The well dressed knight nods in acknowledgement, giving leave for the man to rejoin the troop. .

    ¡°Eiman, relay the message.¡± The knight bellows down the company of men.

    ¡°Yes Sir!¡± A soldier yells in compliance to the knight, and turns his horse away from the group and rides into the direction we came from.

    There¡¯s more of them? I query myself staring behind to see if I can catch a glimpse of other troops, but upon seeing nothing in the distance I turn to the sky and rest my eyes once more praying this long jolty journey will come to a swift end.

    Upon opening my eyes again, I was hoping to be greeted by the sight of at least a humble camping setup of a few tents and at least a fire, but instead I was met with the incredulous image of¡­Nothing? A boundless landscape of sweeping long grass and blissful silence within the dark star lit night was all, my confusion building.

    We shuffle past the aforementioned slanted stone. As we pass it, the men in the wagon jolt, seeming as though they all simultaneously received an electric shock. What a weird freakin¡¯ place¡­My thoughts halt as I rub my eyes and do a second take, as the scene suddenly changes from emptiness to a bustling campsite where at least a thousand soldiers roamed.

    I think I''m losing my mind...Did I blink? How could I miss this massive campsite?!

    I close my unhinged jaw, when I see the nonchalant acceptance of the situation in the men, as if the sudden change was completely normal. I scan the large camp, noticing makeshift horse stables, black smiths, leather workers and rows of bell tents. Three large tents stick out, their colour is bold and their size dwarfs the others, obviously signifying importance within this place. If I am to have any hope or chance to negotiate my freedom or at least get some answers to this dystopian nightmare, it has to be in those tents¡­

    ¡°Sir Leiman, I will tell the lord of your arrival.¡± A young lad says to the well dressed knight in charge of our troop. The knight responds by taking off his helmet and handing it to the lad, scruffing his hair in appreciation. With his helmet off, I could finally see the profile of the knight in charge of the troop. He had blonde hair shaped into a french chop, a trimmed short beard and sharp features. He¡¯s kind of cute, in a renaissance fair sort of way.

    ¡°No need, the reconnaissance mission was successful, I will present myself to the lord myself and update him with the intelligence we gathered.¡± He turns to look at the wagon with a scrutinising glare.

    ¡°Archer, collect them.¡± The familiar face of the man who grabbed me in the woods appears and unlatches the wagon, and ushers for me to come. Scooting to the end, he helps me off the cart by grabbing my waist and hoisting me to the floor, a move similar to when he stuck me on the damn thing. These people are way to handsy. I think to myself, but in a state of fear I dare not complain. I stand to the side and watch as the men on the wagon stand and jump off ,following the orders given to them by the archer and other soldiers. Once we are all milling around, the soldier ties us all together on a single long rope, berating and beating the men who do not comply quickly enough. Now I''m glad I didn¡¯t complain¡­

 Chapter Three

    Sir Leiman walks towards one of the large dominant tents and tells the archer to pull the rope in accordance with his path. The knight walks up to another man dressed akin to him, they have a quick incoherent conversation and Sir Leiman looks back at the archer, ushering him to follow as he pulls open the tent flap. The archer pulls us through into the large shelter, and when I slowly emerge into the tent myself, I see the sight of five men hovering around a brazier fire, rolling up scrolls in their hands.

    Among the five men around the brazier, one stands out, as his clothes seem more barbaric than the medieval style of the others. In a strange mixture of exposed chainmail and leather, his entire arm is adorned with a large fur cloak held to his body by a silver chain that links around his other shoulder, he wildly stood out. His dark hair waves to his chest, a stark contrast from other men in the tent with shorter styled hair. With a short beard and piercing hazel eyes, his appearance is nothing short of alluring. Catching his eye, I quickly turn my green gaze to the grassy floor of the tent.

    Letting go of the flap, the knight returns to the group and stands in front of us, allowing me to hide my presence from the domineering man.

    ¡°My lord, in accordance with your orders I have brought back personnel with intellect on the Evian uprisings. However, nothing on this ¡®beast craze¡¯ my lord.¡±

    ¡°The woman?¡± A peppered man with grey hairs, amassed in jewels and a red drape asks, causing the other four men around the brazier to slightly squint their brows awaiting the answer. Seemingly as though my appearance was an odd finding in whatever the knight¡¯s mission was.

    The knight moves out from in front of me, and turns to face my presence. Gathering an eye full before he looks back to power holding men around the fire. ¡°She was found alone in the sacred woods, she hasn¡¯t uttered a word of explanation since we found her. I suspect her a spy.¡± He confidently states in a low tone, as if unconsciously telling the powerfully sat men that I¡¯m of dire interest to their campaign.

    The red cloaked man gathers the sight of me, I follow his eyes as they trace me head to toe, but he stops at my ankles tutting towards the knight, he changes his glace to avoid catching a second glimpse of my exposed skin and speaks.

    ¡°Good God! She''s practically naked and bleeding out. Go get her some clothes and cleaned up!¡± He frowns, mumbling about the ¡®loose styles of women these days¡¯.

    ¡°Soldier, take her to Ester, he¡¯ll tend to her.¡± The large barbaric man orders the archer whilst scrutinising my being with his eyes.

    The archer walks towards me and unties my restraints from the rope that connected me and the prisoners together. Putting his hand on the small of my back, the archer guides me along to the tent entrance and holds the flap open for me as we exit the temporary war room. Still guiding me along the archer pushes me towards another large tent in the middle of a swamp of smaller tents that by the looks of which, seemed to be soldier barracks. Walking around the tent to the entrance, I was faced with the sight of injured men on mats on the floor, both inside and out of the tent. Gently pushing me in, the archer guides me to a middle aged man in a long light blue tunic with an apron marked with a cross.

    ¡°Ester, the lord commands you to dress and tend to the maiden.¡± The archer announces to the busy middle aged grey man. He tells us to wait a moment as other men are in dire shape. Taking a seat on the ground the archer takes off my restraints and stands, so that¡¯d he be playing prison officer to ensure that I¡¯m unable to run away.

    After a short wait Ester returns and crouches on the floor to meet my sat down height. He takes a glance over my damaged and once bleeding arms. He looks up and halts a young lad carrying a bowl with a rag, taking it off him. Ester dretches the rag and pours the water over my arm causing me to hiss at the sharp pain it causes. Acting cautiously he slowly wipes away the grime and debris on my cuts. Once done he sets the bowl aside and places his hand over my arm, he concentrates and a warm green glow emits from his hand. What the fuck? I unhinge my jaw in utter shock at the sight of the strange glowing hand.

    ¡°W-what?¡± I mutter out in a state of great disturbance at the unholy?! Unnatural?! And quite frankly, freaky sight.

    As if taken aback that nothing is happening, Ester frowns. Taking a breath he begins rubbing his hands together and saying a quick chant between them, before bringing them back to my arms with the weird warm glow once again. He scans his weird glowy green hands over my arms once more to no avail¡­Nothing happens, thank God. Frowning once more Ester stands, walking over to another soldier and committing the same action, I watch in utter amazement as the soldier¡¯s arm wound is slowly closed up, leaving nothing but a scratch for Ester to bandage. Standing beside the sat down soldier, Ester looks back at me squinting in deep thought. His brows fuse harshly seemingly to have a quick thought of something strange he¡¯d like to try. Coming back over to me he dips his finger into the water bowl that was mixed with my blood, and draws a symbol on his hand and claps it with the other, transferring a copy of the symbol to other hand. As if like magic, a soft blue light emits from the symbols and he hovers his hands over me.

    ¡°My great Gods¡­¡± He falls back onto the floor in a gasp, the symbols slowly dripping off his hands as he rests them onto his knees in shock.

    ¡°Ester are you alright?¡± The archer asks, slowly helping the medic onto his feet.

    ¡°Uhh¡­Yes! Yes, I am. Too many patients today is all.¡± He reassures the lowly soldier, but with concern painted all over his face. His questionable demeanour causes me to quickly acknowledge that he knows I don¡¯t belong here. But I look on, keeping up my clueless facade, it not only being due to my anxious state of being surrounded and kidnapped by unknown men, but also knowing I didn¡¯t belong here.

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    ¡°Is she a guest of the lord?¡± Ester asks the archer with an intense quizzical stare.

    ¡°On the contraire, we found her in our passing of the sacred forest.¡± The archer bends his brow, looking at Ester trying to gather more information as to why he was acting so strangely. However, Ester just coughs, putting on a neutral face in an attempt to disguise his thoughts to the situation at hand being ¡®completely normal¡¯. He walks over to a desk and brings back some bandages as well as a long sleeve green tunic and brown cloth trousers. He wraps my wounds and tells me to put on the clothes. I look at the men with an arched brow, and Ester replies with a confusing face before realising something. He takes me to the corner of the tent and holds up a blanket for me to change. His hands glow. HIS HANDS GLOW? I mentally freak out, now having time to acknowledge what I actually saw. After changing I tug down the blanket Ester was holding. I now face both the men shyly in my oversized medieval outfit I was given. These people are going to kill me with their weird freaky hands.

    ¡°It¡¯ll do.¡± Ester says nonchalantly with his arms crossed looking back at the archer for his opinion. Dropping down his guard to let out a witty word, the archer attempts to speak, but it is halted by Ester grabbing the back of his head and slamming his other hand onto the archer¡¯s mouth with a cloth. The archer is guided to the floor by Ester as his body gets more limp, I gasp and step back, clasping the tent tightly behind me, my mouth agape. What the fuck?!  I go to say something, anything, but Ester points the rag towards me in an empty threat to ¡®do me off¡¯ next.

    In the bustling tent, Ester¡¯s actions went unnoticed which I could tell he was glad for. He leaps to me and grabs my arm dragging me out of the tent in haste towards the direction to the war tent.

    ¡°Get off me!¡± I finally shout, attempting to yank my arm out of his grasp, and drag him down with my weight.

    ¡°Speak once more and you can meet him unconscious.¡± He threatens, yet he looks at me with such high concern that he seems more afraid than threatening. However, knowing he wouldn¡¯t be afraid to knock me out, I pondered the actions I could make at this moment. Make a scene and get knocked out? Or wait for the right moment to do the same to him. Ultimately deciding that the second option was better, I scowl at him as he drags me along to the tent.

    Once at the entrance, Ester pops his head into the tent asking the lord for ¡®a moment of his time¡¯. Whilst he was speaking, with my other hand I try to clasp a vial out of the medic¡¯s utility belt. I¡¯m not sure what it is, but at this point anything was better than nothing. However, Ester kept moving in a way that made grabbing anything stealthily, practically impossible. Though my moment of potential escape passes, when the large dark tawny barbaric man pushes open the flap with his hand, catching my eye as he fully exits the loud tent.

    ¡°What ales you my friend?¡± The colossal man questioned, looking at me with an investigative eye, just as though he was trying to piece together the situation without needing to hear answers.

    ¡°She is...Without ferra.¡± Ester chokes out in confusion as if he seemed baffled by his own words, seeming as though that what he said could never be true, like it was an unnatural statement that went against everything. Ester stares at the colossal man, hinting that what he said might lead onto another conversation, a much darker one.

    Seemingly quick to realise what Ester was silently hinting towards, the dark haired man momentarily freezes in thought, to then return with a dark gaze targeted towards me, taking in my full presence with a harsh scan from his eyes.

    ¡°Caspian-¡± Ester pleads but is cut off by the barbaric man¡¯s hand being placed on his shoulder in a reassuring comfort.

    ¡°I trust you my friend, I don¡¯t question your skills.¡± Ester sighs in discomfort of his knowledge, knowing that what he holds secret is tormenting him.

    ¡°However, this is a situation more dire than investigating criminals on the uprisings in Eiva.¡± Caspian slowly moves towards me, grasping the hilt of his great sword. ¡°Who are you?¡± He continues to press forward, his advances making me stumble back and fall onto the ground.

    ¡°G-Genevieve..W-Woodsman¡± I choked out in fear, at the potentially deadly scenario playing out in front of me.

    ¡°Why were you in the sacred forest? Alone?¡± He sterns, crouching to my position on the ground.

    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know.¡± I blurt out, putting a hand over my heart in a failed attempt to seem as though I meant no harm.

    ¡°I won¡¯t ask again.¡± He bellows standing up and unsheathing his weapon slightly to reveal the intricately carved sword, littered with hand carved symbols.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! I promise! I just ended up there! You have to believe me¡­¡± I sob out, clutching my tunic as my heart and throat tightens. The anxiety and fear building in me reaches its height and my breath becomes rapid and fast, as I continue to mumble out ¡®I don¡¯t know¡¯.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t kill me..¡± I mutter out in my smallest voice. Upon hearing the sentence, Caspian¡¯s face changes and he sheathes his sword. He puts his hand out and guides me to my feet.

    ¡°If you truly don¡¯t know, then you¡¯re a danger to yourself and others.¡± He tuts to himself crossing his muscular arms.

    Unlinking an arm he points to me.¡±You are to never leave my sight.¡± He commands, pointing back to himself with his thumb. He turns to Ester and continues. ¡°She is to be watched at all times.¡±

    Though sniffling and still recovering from thinking he was going to kill me a moment ago, I manage to make a dirty face towards him. What the fuck? Why does he think he gets the right to command me? Crossing my arms shrugging with a huff at the complete madness of everything.

    ¡°Everything I do, is for a reason. And as I, and many people here think you¡¯re a spy, I won¡¯t have an issue cutting you down if you don¡¯t comply.¡± He threatens with a stern look, his presence darkening. Intimidated, I take a deep breath and look away in compliance with what he said.

    ¡°She¡¯ll rest in my tent quarters tonight. Get Leiman to guard it.¡± The dark haired man commands Ester, receiving a salute of the medic¡¯s fist to his heart in return.

    ¡°Now are you going to comply or do I have to drug you?¡± Ester teases half heartedly, but it came off more like an unsettling threat.

    ¡°I¡¯ll comply¡­¡±

 Chapter Four

    ¡°At ease, Leiman.¡±

    Waking to the sound of shuffling noises within the tent, I roll over in a fur covered bed seeing the large shape of a man with long wavy hair gathering scrolls. <i>Caspian?</i>

    ¡°You have 10 minutes before they¡¯re tearing tents down. I¡¯ll be outside.¡± Caspian announces softly in a deep voice, keeping his back to me in case I am immodest. I see the soft colour of the sun outside and realise it¡¯s just hit sunrise. <i>So it wasn¡¯t a dream¡­</i>

    Still keeping his body turned away from me, he pushes open the flap of the tent and exits, leaving me to hurriedly pull on my brown woollen trousers and comb my long strawberry blonde hair with my hands. Rubbing my arms to warm up I exit the tent, meeting Caspian outside. I watch as he hands his scrolls over to a knight holding the reins of a gigantic horse. Looking down at  me, Caspian hands me a cotton bag filled with a light weight of unknown contents.

    ¡°May I help you onto the horse?¡± He asks so I''d feel respected if he touched me. I turn to the very large horse with an unsure look, being slightly intimidated going anywhere near the beast.

    <i>He seemed quite important in that tent yesterday¡­We must be leaving early to avoid most dangers. Ugh, the nobility putting their safety above others, how criminal.</i>

    ¡°Have you never ridden?¡± Caspian frowns in confusion, leading me to shake my head with pursed lips.

    Caspian just raises a brow slowly nodding at the information I gave him. He walks up behind me and grasps my waist, hoisting me up onto the horse as I clutch the bag he gave me. <i>Why is it that the men of this place are so handsy? </i>After making sure I was seated comfortably on the horse, Caspian¡¯s swings onto the beast with ease, shifting his weight to align my body comfortably with his. Pulling at the reins, the horse trots off leaving the camp.

    ¡°Open that bag, eat something, today will be a long day.¡± <i>A long day huh? So he plans to keep me alive until at least late tonight...I need to figure out a plan of escape. </i>I blow hot air into my hands, clasping the bag so it doesn¡¯t fall. <i>He¡¯ll never leave me alone. Like yesterday he¡¯ll have someone to watch me if he can¡¯t. Surely he¡¯s noble enough to allow a woman to use the bathroom without company¡­Surely? </i>

    <i>I need to get back to that forest if I have any hope of getting home.</i>

    With the beginning of a rudimentary plan in my head, I focus on warming the parts of my body that aren''t directly affected by Caspian¡¯s body heat. Opening the bag I reveal chunks of bread and cheese within, my stomach inwardly rebels at the unpalatable food. <i>I should be grateful I have something to eat, but¡­Stiff bread and cheese? </i>I get a few mouthfuls in before I realise that nobody is following us, we are entirely alone, riding to a destination unknown to me. Getting tense, I swing my body to face Caspian and try to push him so I can get off the horse. <i>He¡¯s going to kill me!</i>

    Caspian, just drops the reins from one hand and uses that arm to tightly wrap around my upper body so I can¡¯t move.

    ¡°LET ME GO!¡± I scream at the top of my lungs, squirming in his arms to free any part of me to at least facilitate some movement for escape.

    Riding through a small shrubby area next to a small stream, Caspian brings the horse to an abrupt halt letting go of me. I immediately attempt to slide off the horse, Caspian grabs my arm to slow my descent to the ground. Jumping off the horse, he unsheathes one of his swords and throws it on the floor in front of me. I pick it up without hesitation and hold it out awkwardly in front of him as he ties the horse to a branch nearby. Caspian unsheathes another sword, hidden under the half of his body covered by his fur cloak and walks slowly towards me.

    ¡°Lie, and without a word of a warning, I will cut you down where you stand.¡± His brows deepen, a face filled with an ominous threat directed to me.

    ¡°Where have you come from?¡± He demands with a harsh stare making me feel small and incompetent against him, I bring up the sword in a weak defense against his gaze.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! I told you yesterday! I was hanging out with some friends and I fell in the forest and ended up here!¡± I scream at him, shaking in a quivering mess.

    ¡°In the sacred forest? Where no man without great strength can pass through?¡± He shouts, not believing a word I''m saying.<i> He¡¯ll definitely kill me if he knows I''m not from this world. What else can I say? I¡¯m screwed no matter what if he¡¯s already determined to kill me.</i>

    ¡°Who do you serve spy?¡± He snarls, advancing his steps towards me, cornering me against a large trunk.

    ¡°Spy?! I was just lost! You and y-your thugs kidnapped me!¡± I croak out, my arms beginning to wobble and tire from holding up the large sword. <i>Why would my dad¡¯s shadow lead me here? To get killed? Hurt? Kidnapped? </i>

    ¡°Yet you never spoke. You never once spoke out. Spy.¡± He raises his sword up, I close my eyes and hold my sword up to possibly block his attack? But in truth, I just cower, hoping fate would be kind to me in my death and Caspian would give me the mercy of a swift end.

    ¡°FIGHT ME!¡± He taunts, but I just clench my eyes tighter together, holding the hilt of the sword so tense my knuckles turn white. I hear Caspian step forward and I brace myself for my impending doom. The clank of metal shakes me as my sword is lightly tapped by another metal object.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°Drop your stance.¡± I slowly open my eyes, murmuring as tears silently slip down my face. I watch as Caspian walks over to me and carefully plucks the sword out of my hands, sheathing it once again and thrusts a handkerchief at me.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a spy¡­I teach history to teenagers. Please don¡¯t kill me.¡± I wail out, wiping my tears with my hands like I''ve reverted back to a childish state.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah I believe you.¡± Caspian huffs, using his hand to smooth his forehead before pinching his eyebrows together and looking down. ¡°I truly had hoped you would¡¯ve fought back¡­¡± He flashes me a concerned face, as if he was anxious at the truth that I am just an ordinary woman.

    ¡°A spy would never be untrained.¡± He scoffs, seemingly amused at the reality of the situation he''s in. That I''m no spy, but an ordinary lost woman without ¡°ferra¡±? Whatever that is.

    ¡°I said I wasn''t¡­¡± I mumble crossing my arms, huffing at the large barbaric hard-headed man.

    ¡°That doesn''t mean you''re not hiding something, which I know you are.¡± <i>I can''t deny that, but I can''t tell him about another world where I belong. He looks chaotic enough to want to take it over with his weird magic hand friends.</i>

    ¡°I won''t attack you again, unless you prove otherwise, so you can step away from that tree.¡± Caspian speaks with his back to me as he unties the horse and brings it over.

    ¡°I''m not going anywhere with you.¡± I spit at him with a snarl, tensing my brows in disgust towards him.

    ¡°Is that so?¡± He smirks back at me.

    cxxx{}::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

    With my head popped out of Caspian''s fur cloak he wrapped and pinned around us, I frown deeper in annoyance and hatred to the large man sitting behind me. <i>Who throws a woman on their shoulder and puts them on a horse. He may act like a gentleman but he''s just a brute! A barbarian! As if he thought that sharing a fur cloak with me would help?! ¡®Oh she must be so cold, I''ll let her use my cloak as well¡¯. </i>

    ¡°If you keep frowning, it''ll stay like that.¡± He chuckles deeply into my ear before moving his head back to an upright position.

    Seeing a small army of men with horses, wagons and banners, I realise that the camp has been fully packed up and we are back to travelling. Caspian had mentioned that he needed to report to the capital of this world, Arrton. Wherever the hell that is? Swiftly riding past most of the war weary men, Caspian makes it to the head of the troop. Where a well dressed silver armour clad knight, with a purple scarf draping his shoulders, is leading the troop.

    ¡°My lord, everything is on schedule. Sir Leiman''s troops should be leaving the barrier now with a mage to properly close it up.¡± The knight salutes Caspian.

    ¡°Thank you, Pavlore. Is Ester following the vanguard?¡±

    ¡°Yes my Lord, you''ll still be able to catch up with him.¡± I watch the interaction between the two with my hands under my chin as they rest on the edge of Caspian''s large brown fur cloak.

    ¡°Once we are done here, can you send me all the information you know about the Pawell people?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± Caspian urges the horse from its slow trot to a gallop. Racing through the large grassy plains, I can begin to see the faint distant shape of a large wall with battlements.

    <i>That must be the ¡®great capital¡¯, Arrton.</i>

    As we speed through the vast green plains, the landscape began to change as the city walls became sharper and larger in view. The once long wild grass has changed into maintained crop fields, with men and women with rolled up garments working the land. Another group of men isn¡¯t far in front of us, within a minute of steady motion we meet up with a group of men in long decorated blue tunics. I hadn''t noticed before, but the war weary men have cleaned themselves up. Grime and muck was washed away, and their outfits neatened or new ones were put on entirely. It was clear they were all trying to impress someone, as if that person was behind the gates of that magnificently sized city ahead.

    We canter to the front of the troop once again, and I''m met with a familiar face. Ester.

    Upon catching our eye, Ester follows Caspian as he moves aside from the men, at least a good ear listening length away. Once we are a comfortable distance away from prying ears, Ester spoke, seeming a little confused at my presence.

    ¡°So¡­¡± Caspian just shakes his head to Ester''s words. Giving him a clear indication that whatever answer he had to the question in his head was cleared with certainty.

    ¡°I don''t think the lady even knows.¡± Ester stares in befuddlement, purely baffled at Caspian''s words.

    <i>Know what? It''s clear they''re talking about me, but about what?</i>

    ¡°How is that even the case?¡±

    ¡°I don''t know, but the fact that it''s happening now¡­¡± I can hear Caspian breathe out a deeply anguished sigh. I look up to him and he, in turn, looks down at me with great concern, causing me to pop out a confused face.

    <i>What''s going on? Why is he looking at me like that? It''s not like I''m a ticking time bomb.</i>

    Upon hearing Caspian''s words, Ester looks onto the landscape with a deep frown, seemingly contemplating his entire life.

    ¡°I''ll get onto researching, until then¡­¡± Ester states with the same mournful look.

    ¡°She will be entirely under my duty of care, I expect you to keep this between you and I. Nesseth and Aaedan cannot find out.¡±

    ¡°How do you expect that to happen when you''ll be bringing her directly to them?¡± Ester scoffs in disbelief, throwing his hand out in the direction of the capital.

    ¡°You said you aren''t going to kill me!¡± I gasp, turning my head as far back as I can to face Caspian. <i>Who in the capital is so dangerous that they can''t even know my presence?! </i>¡°Are you taking me to my death?!¡± I continue before they can speak, my breath deepening as panic starts to set in once again.

    ¡°I never spoke such a sentence.¡± Capsian scowls at my abrupt screech of concern. I pull my face back at the harsh tone. Seeing that he intimidated me with his voice, he sighs. ¡°If I could avoid taking you here I would.¡± Caspian lets go of a rein and grips my upper arm, looking at me in the eye with an apprehensive gaze. ¡°Genevieve, you must listen and follow every order I give you if you want to live.¡± His intense stare was anything but dishonest. I know I shouldn''t trust this situation, man or his words¡­But everything in me tells me that he wants the best for me.

    I nod to him, accepting his demands.

    ¡°Genevieve, I need you to say that you agree.¡± <i>Is he the only one I can have faith in? The only one putting me out of harm''s way? Can I even rely on his words?...Yet he, himself, has vowed for my safety. Who else can I depend on in this screwed up world besides¡­ Him?</i>

    ¡°I trust you¡­¡± I whisper out, still looking into his eyes. He appears slightly taken aback at my words, a small furrow on his brow at the thought he must fulfil his words without any injury to keep my trust. His gaze suggests it''ll be a hard request to keep faithful too.

    <i>Trusting him is better than trusting those in the capital that might want to hurt me. I think Caspian is the only option I have if I want to survive.</i>

 Chapter Five

    As we pass under the portcullis of the great city, we are ordered to wait as heavily armoured men verify our identities. A large unkempt guard with his face hidden under his helmet, comes closer to Caspian. Though he obviously knows who Caspian is, he looks curiously towards me.

    ¡°Who is the girl?¡± He snarls towards Caspian just as though he was disgusted by the sight of him. The tone of the man confused me, how dare he act so arrogant against such a beastly man. One that seemingly commands an army at that!

    ¡°A chambermaid from Dunmed, I''m in need of one for my castle.¡±

    ¡°Yet she rides with a Duke. And not with the filth of your people back there.¡± He arrogantly gestures with his thumb to the chainmail clad weary men walking alongside the horses.

    ¡°Has a Duke fallen so far that he is smitten by a servant?¡±

    ¡°Watch your tongue guard, or I shall cut you down for your impudence to my rank.¡± The guard''s expression darkened at the insult of being put in his place by Caspian. ¡°She is of no consequence to you, allow us to move on.¡± Caspian stares with a domineering glare, exuding himself with a valiant presence.

    Seething in a silent hatred, the guard steps aside, shouting for the gates to be opened. The first half of the army enters, the sound of roaring claps and booming cheers surround us, rows of people lining the paths of the city to watch the army arrive. Strung white flowers decorate the old city of white stone and wood buildings. With Caspian leading the troop into the city, cheers strangely turn away from him onto the other men in the battalion or completely halted, with some even frowning at him. <i>Can I trust Caspian with all the people angered at him? What has he even done to deserve this?</i>

    I tense up on the horse feeling as though I have put my faith into the wrong man considering the evil eyes given upon his sight. Nevertheless, I am at the forefront of it due to riding with the man, despite seeming as though Caspian wants me hidden. Though in my questioning at Caspian¡¯s actions, I notice that though he was getting unpleasantly looked at, it wasn¡¯t by many onlookers, in fact the hated gazes would only last so long. It seemed as if Caspian was both visible and invisible, the wool cladded people didn¡¯t seem to care for him enough to stay looking in his direction. I turn my head and watch as a few women from the city run alongside some of the men on horses, trying to give them their personal items. Husband and wives, children and siblings, reunited, knowing alas that by tonight they¡¯d all be home safe.

    ¡°You¡¯ve killed my son! Where is my son!¡± An older woman grapples on the front of Caspian¡¯s horse. ¡°Where is my son, Lavid Curoso! Where! He was in your squadron!¡± She cries aloud in a desperate screech, gaining the attention of onlookers who are also searching for their loved ones.

    Caspian pulls his horse to a halt to save the woman any injury, and from his belt he pulls off a small coin purse, grabbing the lady''s hand and placing it gently within.

    ¡°War is cruel. It¡¯s equal to all those who serve. Your son paved the way to victory, that¡¯s an honour you must revere in his absence.¡± Caspian pulls his horse away from the crying woman who is shouting that money won¡¯t bring her son back. <i>These men are all victims of war, especially those wrapped up in the wagon. There is no God or mercy in war, but these people expect Caspian to be? As if he could ensure everyone''s safety?</i>

    <i>I¡¯m not sure how many people left this city but it seems like a lot returned. Is that why people hate Caspian? Because he was one of the leaders of war? Jobs like this don¡¯t choose people, they¡¯re given. A king requests the need of arms, not a duke. I¡¯m not sure of the world I spawned into, but it seems unjust. Unless I''m¡­wrong and there¡¯s something else?</i>

    The calvary of men make it to the doors of a grand white, ivy castle, hidden behind a wall that separates it from the city. A neat garden spans itself in front of the castle, the rest of the land between the space of the city¡¯s wall and the palace was working land of horse keepers, blacksmiths and other high professionals seemingly only catering to those in the castle. The men spread out, taking horses to stables, weapons to the weaponsmiths and sorting out resources to take into the city. Caspian unclips the fur coat holding us together and wraps an arm around my waist, lifting me to the side of the horse and letting gravity gently guide me out of his arms onto the ground beside the horse. Getting off himself with a thud, Caspian yanks his cloak and reattaches it to the chain on his shoulder, recreating his barbaric look from the war tent. Some men walk over and take Caspian''s horse and sword away as Ester walks up behind us, anxiously gripping a silvery object on his belt.

    ¡°What now Cas- My Lord?¡± Ester corrects himself in front of the legion of workers from the castle bustling outside to accommodate the weary army.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Send for Mandell. Get her to take this maiden under her charge till our departure.¡±

    ¡°Resourceful. Aaedan won''t go near the scullery, she''ll be well hidden until we can leave.¡± Ester nods with his arms folded over one another, finally relaxing.

    ¡°Leave? Where are we going?¡± I pipe in, wanting to know where I''ll be unwillingly transported to next if my escape plan doesn''t work out.

    ¡°To my home, in Arken. Our sole purpose here is to report to the king.¡± Caspian states looking down to me, as he loosens the string on his leather fingerless gauntlets.

    <i>I really hope that it''s not further away from that blasted forest, I need to be able to make it back there without getting lost in this freak world.</i>

    Caspian splits off from Ester and I to report to the king via the front doors of the castle, whereas Ester takes me to a small wooden door on the side of the building. Loud noises of clattering, women laughing and hurried footsteps echo from within. <i>A maid? They¡¯re making me a maid? In stories most lost women become princesses or duchesses, or made into a position of power! Not damn scullery maids¡­</i>

    Ester opens the door and guides me through. Now standing in the wooden, herb hanging, fire crackling busy kitchen, I finally feel as if I¡¯d been transported back in time to a simpler era of close connections and humble lives. Ester flags down an imposing large woman who is hurrying maids holding bedding into the palace.

    ¡°Oh Ester! My dear! Give meh a great ol¡¯ kiss!¡± She slobbers a kiss against the head of the visibly unwilling Ester, who forces himself to smile once she releases her tight grasp.

    ¡°Mandell, this is¡­Gen. She is with our company, so she''ll be under your charge till we leave.¡± Ester flicks his eyebrows up, hinting that she has to ¡®keep an eye on me¡¯, causing her to quickly squint in thought before continuing.

    ¡°Oh¡­Your company, eh? Well, we always have¡¯a job need¡¯n to be done.¡± She gives a quizzical look in my direction, probably questioning why I, a lone woman, am with an army of men to begin with. Nevermind thinking why I¡¯d be important enough to rejoin the company''s march to their final destination after reporting to the King.

    ¡°I supposed she be need¡¯n a bath and appropriate cloth¡¯n then; come along child.¡± I look back at Ester who watches me get pushed away by the housekeeper into a room off from the kitchen.

    cxxx{}::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

    ¡°Ah, I figured they¡¯d be of fittin¡¯.¡± Mandell chuffs, skimming her hands over the simple long blue wool dress. It''s clear that the gown was made for a working class woman, with its tight sleeves, lack of decoration and patterns, it is a practical garment for getting work done. It was humble compared against the long sleeved silk gowns of the women in the upper classes, those of which I caught sight of in the celebration earlier.

    ¡°Can I ask yer of the reason you be found with them men?¡± The large woman curiously asks from behind me, moving to the front of me and clasping her hands together with a quaint smile at the potential gossip.

    ¡°Quite frankly, they found me. I¡¯m not sure why they won¡¯t let me go, but all I want is to go home.¡± I frown to the now sympathetic Mandell, who reaches out her hand to hold mine.

    <i>Oh what could my friends be thinking? Or my students? Or my colleagues? I wonder if they¡¯ve put on a hopeless large scale manned search for me.</i>

    ¡°Oh you poor child¡­Them men be goodens though, whatever reason they be having, be a good one.¡± Mandell lets go of my hands and wags her head in a pointed manner at her knowledge of the goodheartedness of the men.

    ¡°But this is kidnapping!¡± I throw my hands up, mouth agape and brows in a furrow. <i>How are these people justifying a crime! I am an innocent bystander in this madness!</i>

    ¡°Neverthelessen¡¯ knowin¡¯ them men they be gettin¡¯ yer home when time be right. It all just be a matter of wait¡¯n my dear.¡± She smiles in an attempt to calm my righteous anger at the matter, but I just shake my head in disbelief. If these men were as kind as she thinks they are, they wouldn''t have kidnapped or tried to kill me at every opportunity they¡¯re given.

    Those men are nothing but lunatics riding on false righteousness.

    Mandell doesn¡¯t stand around long enough for me to argue, she hands me a rag and forces me out of the room with her to get to work immediately. <i> This world has magic and yet I''m handed a rag to dust manually¡­</i>

    Mandell watches me with an expert eye as we trail through the long corridors dusting statues and accent tables. I map the layout in my head as we continue into the vast white stone castle, marking possible routes I can take within the night when everyone is asleep. Hearing footsteps approaching down the torch lit corridor I look to identify the noise, a man with brown wavy shoulder length hair, in a black tunic with gold threading and a black sleeveless fur trimmed robe makes his way down the corridor. Mandell gasps and pushes me to face the wall as the man walks past, the man pays no mind to the action and continues his walk. I am baffled at first until I remember that servants used to face the wall when higher social classes walked into a room. <i>It¡¯s like the twelfth century all over again, but with weird magic. </i>

    When the coast is clear, Mandell removes her hand from my back holding me to the wall and pushes me to continue cleaning, encouraging me by reminding me I¡¯d feel better eating knowing that I''ve ¡®earned it¡¯. Soon enough another well dressed, decorated man comes walking down the corridor and without Mandell having to guide me in what to do I turn to the wall. As the man passes, I quickly turn around avoiding Mandell¡¯s suspicion and pace myself behind the noble man to disguise the sound of my escaping footsteps. We turn the corner before Mandell turns around, and I duck myself against the wall as the nobleman keeps walking unaware. Without looking around the corner to see what Mandell is doing, I decide the best option is to hide in the nearest room. I quickly close the door behind me, cautious to not make a noise in case I¡¯d be found by Mandell. Stepping back into the room praying my feet don¡¯t cause noise, my gaze began to reveal the blessed sight of a book-filled haven. <i>An old library!</i>

 Chapter Six

    My historical loving brain explodes at the sight of a room filled with leather and gold bound books. A room holding so much knowledge about this world, its history and whatever bizarre books they would have in this pre-technological place. Dark wood covers the bare walls not hidden by large bookshelves and red paint was expertly painted on the ceiling. It reminded me of the beautiful tudor rooms royalty would¡¯ve had back in England. Oh how it is a sight for sore eyes and my eyes are thus. I trail my hands along the dust free shelves full of what feels like ancient books. I am suddenly stopped by a book jutting out, larger than the rest and decorated with red jewels, it intrigues me.

    ¡°King Hadriel¡­¡± I read aloud the title on the side. That name sounds so familiar¡­It sounds quite like the tale my father used to tell me as a kid about a noble king who united his people and found the members of the roundtable. But I just think he forgot the plot to King Arthur. Haha¡­I miss him so much.

    ¡°I recognise you.¡± ¡°OH MY GOD!¡± I immediately grasp my chest in pure jumpscare horror. I turn around to face the person who just scared the shit out of me, and I curiously find the black dressed man in the tunic from earlier, sitting with his feet resting on the desk in front of him and holding an open book against his chest with one of his hands.

    ¡°I-I was supposed to be cleaning¡­Sir.¡± I fumble out, trying to calm my heartbeat, blood pressure and my thoughts.

    ¡°I saw you on Caspian¡¯s horse outside. No man or woman of such standing would never be allowed so. Thus either you¡¯re not a maid or¡­¡± I¡¯m someone worthy enough to ride along with a duke¡­

    ¡°Who are you?¡± He closes his book and puts it on his desk, slowly rising from it and walking towards me.

    ¡°Depends¡­If you can help me or not.¡± I narrow my eyes at him, curious to see if he would take a bite of my proposal.

    ¡°Help you? But I don¡¯t even know who you are?¡± He smirks, crossing his arms, leaning closer towards me. His hair falling softly in front of his face as he does so, giving him a mischievous appearance.

    ¡°But you want to.¡± I smirk back at him, knowing I catch him in his curiosity.

    ¡°You¡¯re smart, and speak very freely¡­Okay, I''ll bite, speak your desires .¡± He leans against the bookshelf next to him, smiling curiously down to me.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to go home.¡± Ohh this could work, I could be getting out of here!!

    ¡°And why is it that you can''t?¡± He tilts his head wanting to gain more knowledge.

    ¡°Caspian won¡¯t let me.¡± I state the truth plain and clear to him. I am here against my will and would like to be set free.

    ¡°It¡¯s curious that you call him that. Are you close with the duke?¡± Oh shit¡­I forgot he was a duke. I hope that my mistake doesn¡¯t get me sent back to Caspian. Oh his clothes! He¡¯s a nobleman, he might as well be friends with Caspian!

    ¡°No, he kidnapped me in the forest.¡± Please don¡¯t be friends with him! Please don¡¯t be friends with him!!

    ¡°Kidnapped you? From a forest? Well this is getting very interesting.¡± Ah shittt!! I might as well just drop the whole bomb now.

    ¡°Well not him per say¡­One of his men and Caspian now won¡¯t let me go.¡± I plead to gain any sympathy from the man in hopes he has the mercy to help me get home.

    ¡°So you¡¯re a child of Arathus¡­Well I don¡¯t see why a banished duke should hold one of my people captive.¡± He smiles towards me, but it seems unsettling? As if he were hiding malice behind a sympathetic facade. My mind is screaming to me that this man has alternative motivations to my request. But if my request was heard¡­Should its reasoning be questioned? I think not.

    ¡°Your people?¡± Before the well-dressed man could speak the door opens and a male servant bows in.

    ¡°Sire, the King asks for your attendance to the Evian report.¡± Sire? Is he a¡­Prince?! I hold my breath at the realisation.

    ¡°Ah, what is your name? I''ll come and find you.¡± He smiles meticulously, almost calculated, if it wasn''t obvious before that he had another agenda, it was now.

    ¡°Genevieve Woodsman.¡± My instincts tell me that I should hold back my words, my identity, but any help is good help, right? I really hope so, because my chances of getting out of here are getting slimmer and slimmer¡­

    The well dressed man leaves the room, leaving me all alone in the history filled room. But the room that was once filled with excitement over the vast knowledge that spanned it, now had an eerie atmosphere since the man left. I walk over to the desk that was just in use a moment ago, my stomach strangely doing twists as I approach. He left his book¡­I hover over the book and reach for it. It was black and the symbols I had seen Ester use before were on it but they were different, twisted, something sinister to the beautiful scribing of the magic symbols. It looks corrupt, I''m not sure of the magic of this world but I know enough to see that this is something dark. The front page looks old and worn away, making the title hard to decipher, yet I could make out one word. Death¡­

    The sound of a woman panicking outside drags me away from opening the book and investigating further. Oh Mandell! She''s going to find me!

    Hearing the large woman frantically pass through the halls, I exit the door as soon as she walks past and hurry down the corridor away from her direction. Passing through the large stoney halls of untold secrets and a wealth of history shown in relics and tapestry, amaze the historical loving brain in my head. Passing further down another unknown corridor a large tapestry lays bare against the full wall. I walk over to a massively large cream tapestry and admire the design of it. Black writings of names with drawings above each, litter the tapestry. The names connect to one another in a delicate display of art. It¡¯s a bunch of family trees¡­

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    I skim over the names of the noble families on the tapestry, but some are curiously blacked out in thick ink. I walk further, my eyes narrowing on one name, a name I recognize. Caspian Astarteu. My stomach tightens as I see the entirety of his family¡¯s line obscured in ink, as though someone desperately wanted to erase them from history. I peer closer at the crest above his family¡¯s name, now a blotted mess of black. A black flame? Is that the name of his family line? Caspian Astarteu of the black flame family? A wave of unease hit me. It''s a name that commands both respect and fear, yet it''s been deliberately wiped away. Why? What did he do¡­

    ¡°Disfavour of the King¡­He displays it publicly so everyone can see your disgrace.¡± A harsh voice cuts the silence in the air. I turn, startled at the sudden voice. Caspian? I face the large barbaric man, his icy gaze locked onto me. Ah shit¡­

    I swallow, trying to steady my now racing heart. ¡°So you¡¯re disgraced?¡± I point out the obvious, unease building within me. It would make sense considering it seems like everyone in this city hates him. He squints at me as if debating whether he should continue talking.

    ¡°They say my grandfather was a traitor to the crown.¡± Caspian''s harsh tone doesn¡¯t waiver. He stands facing the tapestry as he crosses his arms. His body tenses, as if the weight of his family''s history burdens him with every passing moment. ¡°He wanted to save the people¡­¡± He moves his gaze to a royally drawn family tree in the middle of the tapestry, a harsh gaze scrutinising it.

    I hesitate, the dense atmosphere makes me choose my next words cautiously. ¡°What did he do?¡± I croak, my voice barely a whisper.

    Caspian then turns to me, his eyes dark, blazing with a deep hatred. His presence oozing with danger and disgust. "He saw the corruption. This city, this kingdom, it rots from the within. Genevieve, this place, these people, you can''t trust them.¡± He glares at me, as if daring me to disagree. The book the prince had¡­ His contempt was more than just disdain for the capital, it was personal. His family was wronged and lived to face the consequences of that.

    ¡°If they''re so corrupt then why do you work for them?¡± The question burns on the tip of my tongue, demanding to be answered. Why would anyone stay in a place so tainted by ¡®corruption¡¯?

    However, Caspian doesn¡¯t answer. His lips curl slightly, an unreadable expression crossing his face before he starts walking slowly towards me. I attempt to make myself seem fearless against him, but his presence overwhelms my own.

    ¡°It¡¯s funny.¡± He says, voice low and eyes narrowing. ¡°I put you in the scullery with a group of people, and yet I find you alone." His voice is laced with a dangerous, amused tone. He props an eyebrow up to me. ¡°I thought you might be smarter than that.¡±

    My heart skips a beat, knowing what might come next. Damn it! I thought he¡¯d forgotten.

    ¡°People-¡± I stammer on my words, desperately gasping for any excuse to get out of his fast approaching gate to me.¡°People have a desire to be free a-and I''m held captive-¡±

    Before I can finish rambling, Caspian moves faster than I expect, effortlessly hoisting me onto his broad shoulders. My legs dangle off his large back, and I let out a yelp of protest, kicking and squirming in his grasp. ¡°LET ME GO!¡± I scream, hoping to gather any attention against this brute. I pound my fists against his back, but he doesn¡¯t even flinch or slow down.

    He continues walking, as if my protests mean nothing, heading toward the scullery with an unnerving calm.

    Arriving at the door of the scullery, Caspian slowly guides me to the ground, parking me at the entrance. I shoot him a glare, and in turn he shoots a harsher one back, clearly annoyed at my attempted escape. With a gentle push, the door swings open, and the lively chatter from within spills into the hallway, only to abruptly cease the moment Caspian steps inside.

    My mood instantly sours as the workers in the room begin whispering in a low tone, as they dart their eyes between Caspian and me. Are they talking about me? These bitches¡­But before I can dwell on it, Mandell rushes over in a frantic distress.

    ¡°Ah she be one of mine, we better be hurryin¡¯ along now sir, lots of work needn¡¯ to be done.¡± She fakes a smile to Caspian, hiding the real intent of her wanting Caspian to leave the room. I thought Mandell liked Caspian¡¯s men? Why is she acting so different in front of him?

    A scowl crosses my face as I look at the room of gossiping workers again. Either he¡¯s lying about why people dislike him or everyone here is two-faced. My scowl deepens as my irritation grows. Why is it annoying me so much? He¡¯s literally keeping me hostage! My infuriation grows upon the realisation that being near him, has caused his mistreatment to leak onto me!

    I inhale sharply, ready to snap at the whispering gossipers, but before I can unleash my frustration, Caspian¡¯s hand clamps onto my shoulder as if sensing my intentions. The touch is warm, but commanding. I whip my head up, still seething, but he merely lifts a brow at me, as if daring me to make a scene and possibly cause him more grief.

    I take a seethed breath and swallow my anger. Satisfied. Caspian gives my shoulder a small pat before turning to Mandell. ¡°She¡¯s all yours.¡± He says smoothly before striding out.

    The moment the door closes, Mandell rushes to me, gasping my arm in a hard pinch.

    ¡°Where you been?!¡± Mandell in a hushed tone, shrieks at me. ¡°I been worried sick yer be caught in trouble! And it clear you be by the company you brought!¡± Mandell bites her bottom lip and playfully slaps my arm with a tea towel.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry...I uh wanted to look around.¡± I fumble out, still irritated at the gall of everyone and their prejudices towards Caspian. Deciding to ignore Caspian¡¯s ¡®accept it face¡¯, I determine my curiosity and morality is too strong not to investigate.

    ¡°Why does everyone act so different when Cas- the..Duke walks in?¡±

    Mandell squints her eyes to me, seemingly confused at my question. A facade breaking on her face momentarily as if to ask herself ¡®why did everyone despise Caspian?¡¯ But her brief minute of befuddlement was washed away and a frown crosses her face. She leans forward to me and whispers in my ear.

    ¡°His family be traitor, so help us, Gods he be condemned.¡± She holds her hand to her heart as she leans back. Gods?

    With an eerily weird vibe emanating from Mandell and the occupants of the room I decide to not press it. Something weird is going on here¡­

 Chapter Seven

    Why did Mandell act like that? Like she was hypnotised? The thought stuck to me, refusing to let me rest. Yet no matter how much I try to divert my thoughts, it just keeps coming back to Mandell and this strange city.

    I shift in the small bed, squeezed between two maids. Another sharp kick hits my back, in a not-so subtle way of telling me to ¡®stop moving¡¯. How did I forget that the working class used to share beds. Is this my life now? Doomed to forever share beds with other people?

    My thoughts, unsettled, return and Caspian¡¯s words echo in my mind.

    ¡®This place, these people, you can¡¯t trust them.¡¯ This city¡­Something about it feels so wrong¡­ I turn once again in bed, careful to not disturb the others. Why does Caspian accept the way people treat him? Why doesn¡¯t he fight back? If it were me, I don¡¯t think I could live in a world hated by others. But then I recall the war camp. Not everyone hates him¡­I think of Ester and the knights that showed Caspian the respect he deserves. Is it just this city?

    My thoughts carry me into the early morning, and when daylight breaks, the castle once again bustles with workers. People rush about, preparing for the departure of Caspian¡¯s soldiers. But unlike yesterday, when the army¡¯s arrival had been met with excitement, and cheers, today¡¯s atmosphere is heavy. Dull.

    People carry out their duty without a care, seemingly unbothered if the small army of men will survive their journey back home.

    Supplies are stacked haphazardly in wagons, barely secured. Meals are overcooked and meager, and nowhere near enough to sustain the army.  It seemed as though the city¡¯s disdain for Caspian had extended to his people.

    Ester retrieved me in the early hours, returning me to Caspian¡¯s watch. In response, Caspian placed me atop his horse, well aware that it was too tall for me to climb down on my own. A petty power move. Now, he stands nearby, trying to make sense of the pitiful provisions being handed over for his army¡¯s journey. As I watch the flow of servants and artisans hand over their goods and repairs, I notice something¡­Strange. Where most didn¡¯t bother with the quality of their supplies, tossing them into wagons and at soldiers without a second thought; a few workers seem unfazed by Caspian¡¯s reputation, handling their repairs with care, and showing Caspian a duke¡¯s worthy thanks, some even having a polite conversation with him.

    The contrast is striking and confusing. Not everyone?

    As I sit atop the horse, waiting for the final stocktake before departure, my gaze sweeps across the bustling courtyard and I note the slight difference in clothing of Caspian¡¯s people compared to everyone else. His men wear a more barbaric, fantastical version of viking clothing, which is a stark contrast to the medieval English style of this city and its inhabitants.

    A final count is taken, and the order to depart is given. The weary soldiers once again mount their steeds, and the sound of shifting armour and stamping hooves fills the courtyard.

    Caspian approaches and tightens the straps on the horse. My grip tightens on the saddle as Caspian swings himself up behind me, his movements effortless against the large steed. As he settles into the seat, his warmth immediately radiates onto my back. I try not to react to his warmth, or the irritating knowledge of how close he is to me. But it¡¯s impossible to ignore as his knee bumps against mine as he adjusts himself. Upon feeling my cool temperature emanating from under my thin dress, Caspian once again unchains his fur cloak, wrapping it around us, locking us together until he unclasps the silver. His arm, under the cloak, reaches around to me to take the reins, his touch sending an uneasy prickle down my spine.

    I hate this. I hate how trapped I feel, how small I am to anything against this brute. Why am I so useless in trying to save myself? I just want to go home. My current situation makes me irritated at the fact, I¡¯ve yet to show any progress in escaping.

    ¡°You¡¯re tense.¡± He speaks in a low tone close to my ear. His voice irritates me, a reminder of my failure to escape from his grasps. I press my lips together, staring ahead. I am tense. How can I not be? I¡¯m once again on my way to an unknown place, getting further away from home, with a man I don¡¯t trust or like. I don¡¯t respond. Nothing I can say will change my situation.

    Caspian exhales slowly, feeling the tension growing between us. The reins shift slightly in his hands, and the horse unexpectedly moves forward causing me to jolt at the sudden movement. Caspian¡¯s hand is quick to grasp my side, steadying me.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fall off.¡± I swallow hard, my fingers tightening around the saddle, slightly embarrassed.

    The army begins to move off from the castle¡¯s grounds, but there¡¯s no camaraderie, no parade, no real send off. As we pass through into the city my unease grows. The streets are no different to an ordinary day, its inhabitants don¡¯t even spare us a second glance as we pass through.

    Caspian rides ahead, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable. His demeanour seems¡­unsettled? As if irritated by how his people are still treated. Making it the gates of the city, Caspian moves back allowing the scouting team to go to the front of the army. Sir Leiman? Why is he with us¡­Is he Caspian¡¯s knight?

    Where¡¯s Ester?

    The gates of the city groan as they open, and with a curt nod to his knight, the scouts head out into the landscape in front of us.

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    cxxx{}::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

    The sun sinks lower, staining the sky in deep hues of orange and violet. Our long journey has remained silent and everyone has remained on edge, as if prepared for anything to happen. Or something¡­

    I squirm uncomfortably on the horse again. Hours of riding has left a dull, aching soreness in my legs and lower back. How did people get used to doing this for hours on end? Especially before cars were invented. I shift, trying to readjust myself to relieve my aches, but my new position makes me more uncomfortable. I let out a quiet huff of frustration, wishing that we¡¯d stop soon.

    Caspian notices my irritation and without a word, he adjusts his grip on the reins and shifts slightly behind me. Then, with one hand he reaches down and tugs my leg into a better position. His touch is brief and helpful, but the sudden adjustment startles me.

    I stiffen instantly, heat rushing to my face. What the hell!?

    ¡°What are you-¡± I begin to speak with a flushed face, but I''m cut off by Caspian speaking over me in a neutral tone.

    ¡°You¡¯re sitting wrong. You¡¯ll ache less like this.¡± Caspian returns to his upright position, bringing his arm up and around me to grab the reins once again.

    I press my lips together in annoyance, a rosy blush spreading along my face at the unexpected touch. I hate him. I lock myself into place to prevent him from seeing my discomfort again.

    The grass gets taller and denser along our path, its height now swallowing the lower half of the horses.

    A strange clicking noise suddenly spreads around us, and the scouts ride ahead, tense and alert. The horses sense something too, their ears point back and hooves shift uneasily. I can feel Caspian chant something under his breath, holding the hilt of his sword.

    ¡°Krehvins¡­¡± Caspian mutters, before pulling his sword out in preparation.

    Then it happens.

    A blur of fur and claws bursts from the grass, then another, and another. I let out an involuntary scream to the terrifying creatures. WHAT THE FUCK ARE THOSE?!  With black fur, a skull like face and a body like a saber tooth tiger, mixed with a wolf. It is enough to make me freeze in terror. Chaos erupts as the pack starts attacking the men. Horses rear and scream and the soldiers draw steel. The first of the beats lunges, taking down a knight¡¯s mount in a single vicious strike. The knight, rolling out of the way, swings his leg around knocking the beast to its side before striking it. More creatures surge from the grass. THERE¡¯S MORE!?! An unsuspected soldier to my right is yanked clean off his horse, and is pulled into the tall grass. Our mount rears, and my breath catches as I grip the saddle for dear life. Then I feel a strong arm hook around my waist. Caspian.

    Before I can react, he yanks the reins, maneuvering our horse away from the assault. His grip tightens around me as he swings his sword in one fluid motion, cutting down a lunging beast mid-air. The force of his swing jars through him, into me. I¡¯m going to die! I¡¯m going to die. I¡¯M GOING TO DIE! I continue to scream and cry through the chaos.

    A second creature charges from the side. Caspian kicks our horse forward, parrying a swipe of claws. But his movement feels strained. Balancing control of the horse and me, all the whilst being trapped with me under his cloak, is limiting his movements. He can¡¯t fight like this.

    I barely have a second to process what¡¯s happening, before Caspian yanks the reins and steers sharply towards a tall tree.

    ¡°Caspian!¡± I wail out as he tears the chain that holds the cloak together. He¡¯s going to leave me here alone! ¡°NO!¡± I cry out, gasping onto his armour. But he doesn¡¯t hesitate, instead he lifts me off the saddle with ease, and dumps me on a low, sturdy branch. My hands immediately shooting out to balance myself on the branch, my breath coming fast and uneven.

    ¡°Stay here.¡± He commands in an authoritative, strong voice. Handing his cloak to me.

    He doesn¡¯t wait for a response, turning his horse away back into the mayhem, his sword flashing as he cuts down another beast.

    I grip the branch, heart pounding. HE LEFT ME! THAT ASSHOLE LEFT ME! My breath rises in panic, tears continuously fall as I cry out into the wild landscape. I watch as Caspian returns back into the fight in the distance. From atop his steed, he moves in a precise, practised fashion. His sword glowing, he cuts a beast away from a soldier struggling to fend for himself. It stumbles back, bleeding onto the ground, but before long, another takes its place.

    There¡¯s too many of them! The beasts seem crazed, relentless, almost desperate. As if something is driving them crazy beyond reason. The soldiers struggle to keep their mounts under control. Some have already been thrown off, fighting from the ground with occasional glows of light. Another creature bolts from the dense grass, aiming for Caspian¡¯s horse. My breath catches.

    Caspian yanks the reins, his horse sharply pivoting as the beast leaps. Its claws graze Caspian¡¯s arm as he expertly moves the horse. He doesn¡¯t wait long, thrusting his sword into the creature, a hiss leaving its body as it flails to the ground.

    I squeeze the branch tighter, my nails digging into the bark as I watch on. Caspian barely flinches at the attacks, he¡¯s focused. But the creatures don¡¯t stop. Another barrels its way towards him, and in a swift motion Caspian uses the blood from his arm to coat his sword, causing all the symbols on it to glow and ignite into flames. What the- He kicks his horse forward and swings hard. The beast ignites into flames as Caspian strikes his head away from its body, its remains skidding across the ground in a burning heap. Despite his wound, he barely looks winded.

    A soldier nearby isn¡¯t as lucky. One of the creatures has knocked him flat on the ground, its snarl being held back by the soldier¡¯s hands. He¡¯s going to die! My throat tightens and my heart sinks. But before I can fully react, I see Sir Leiman on the move. He rides past the beast and grabs its scruff, pulling it off the soldier. Dragging the beast along the floor, he takes his sword and stabs the neck of the creature, a flash of light emanating from the wound before he lets go. He pivots his horse back into the fight, his sword already swinging for another beast.

    I grind my teeth together. My body is tense, but I force myself to stay as still as possible so I don¡¯t fall off the branch.

    Rustle.

    I look down and freeze.

    Krehvin¡­

 Chapter Eight

    I stop breathing.

    The creature circles the tree, not releasing its gaze from me for even a second, despite the loud noise of the men in the distance.

    Unlike the others, this one doesn¡¯t charge blindly into battle. It doesn¡¯t lunge, doesn¡¯t snarl or snap. It¡¯s watching me. Pacing. It knows I''m trapped and weaker than the others. I slowly bring my knees to my chest, gripping onto the tree as I move. Caspian¡­Where are you?

    A low guttural growl rattles from its throat. My stomach sinks. It''s smart, it knows I¡¯m defenseless. Where is he?! The fight continues in the distance, swords clashing, men shouting, but they¡¯re too far away to see what¡¯s happening over here.

    It takes a step forward, gauging the height of my branch. I inch back along the branch, a twig snapping at my staggered movements. The creature tenses. Shit¡­

    The creature suddenly lunges and a strangled scream escapes me as I tighten my grip on the tree. Its claws scrape the bark as it leaps up. But it miscalculated, missing me by a few inches. It lands on the ground with a thud, snarling at the loss. But it doesn¡¯t leave, circling the tree once more.

    ¡°CASPIAN!¡± I scream upon the sight of the familiar face racing towards me.

    Caspian reins his horse to a sudden stop, the horse rearing as a result.

    Keeping his eyes locked on the creature, he uses one hand to swing off his horse onto the ground. His armour is covered in blood and dirt, he looks as if he¡¯s been fighting for hours. As he steps dangerously towards the creature, his sword slowly drips a small trail of fire as he walks.

    The creature jerks its head towards Caspian, knowing it met its match. It flicks its gaze between Caspian and I, judging who it should go for first. I shuffle closer to the tree, but in the efforts of doing so, I accidentally knock Caspian¡¯s cloak onto the ground. The creature makes its decision, turning to me.

    ¡°Tsk.¡± Caspian lets out a slow, deliberate disapproval at the creature. The creature¡¯s ears twitch. Its head jerks toward the sound.

    ¡°Not her.¡± He murmurs. His tone telling. It wasn¡¯t a warning, nor a plea. No, it was a fact. As if the creature would be foolish for even considering otherwise. My breath catches, as the beast lowers its body, snarling, inching closer to Caspian. It listened to him? Of course it does. Even a wild animal would recognise a predator standing before it. Caspian doesn¡¯t react to the beast closing in on him. He simply watches, his eyes squinting, taunting the beast to attack him. And he knows it will.

    The creature lunges and Caspian doesn''t even flinch. Instead, he lifts his sword, slashing the beast clean in half. Its body igniting, and left to burn on the ground. Caspian kicks the body out of the way, slowly raising his head to catch my eye. Scanning me briefly, lips clamped shut. Assessing me.

    He looks back onto the fight, the chaos is dying down. With his hand, he wipes his flaming blood off his sword, and the flaming heaps his sword once created, immediately dies out. Ash now replaces where the flame once stood. Caspian locks his gaze back onto me, walking under the branch.

    ¡°Jump.¡± I freeze, my body uncooperative to his words. The drop below suddenly appearing much farther than before.

    Caspian steps closer, his face unreadable. He lifts his hands, waiting. ¡°Genevieve.¡±

    ¡°I will catch you.¡± He states, reassuring me. But unconvinced, I grip harder onto the bark, tears still dripping down my face from the earlier panic.

    ¡°Now.¡± I close my eyes and slide off the branch. Air rushes around me briefly until Caspian¡¯s hands clamp around my upper thighs, absorbing the fall as if it was nothing. I instinctively put my hands on Caspian¡¯s shoulder to hold myself up. He takes a step back and slowly guides me to the floor. His fingers press into my sides, lingering for half a second longer than necessary. I try to pull away from his grasp, but he pulls me closer. He tightens his grip as he drags his eyes over me, assessing for any damages. His thumb unconsciously brushes along my ribs before he finally lets go. His eyes flick up to mine, something hidden behind his gaze. Intrigue. He¡¯s curious about me.

    I calm my breath with a frown on my face. He fucking left me to die. Without even thinking I punch his chest and walk towards his horse, picking up his cloak along the way. Fucking asshole. Caspian exhales, barely acknowledging my attack. I feel his eyes watch me as I stomp over to the steed.

    Piece of shit. I throw the cloak on the horse and grapple the tall saddle, attempting to climb the horse. I refuse to ask for help, but my legs ache from the ride, making it hard to move in an efficient way to get on. As I¡¯m debating my next move to climb the giant horse, I hear him step forward. He better not help me. Before I can turn and berate him, his hands are on me. Clamping on my waist, my feet suddenly leave the ground and my thighs meet the horse once again. My hands scramble against the saddle for balance, as I clamber the rest of the way.

    His warmth leaves me to adjust my position. Like before, his hand moves to my clothed thigh, tugging it into place, then moves my lower back forward so I¡¯m sitting properly on the horse.

    ¡°There.¡± His tone is laced with irritation and impatience. ¡°Sit right this time.¡± My face flushes with embarrassment and hate.

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    I scowl, gripping the saddle tighter. Caspian swings himself up behind me, adjusting himself, his arm then reaches past me and grabs the cloak. He flicks it out, and attempts to wrap it around us.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need it.¡± I hiss at him, swatting his hand away.

    Caspian doesn''t sigh or argue. He just stares in an authoritative gaze, and wraps the cloak around us anyways.

    The thick fur engulfs me before I can stop it, his movements strong and firm.

    ¡°I said I-¡± His hand tightens the cloak around us, securing it with a knot, locking us in.

    ¡°Enough.¡± His words soft, yet commanding.

    I freeze at his domineering voice. He doesn¡¯t spare me a second glance, pulling the reins, his arm brushing against mine as he urges the horse forward. The sudden movement jolts me forward. Caspian instinctively snaps an arm around me, pulling me closer to him. Heat radiates from his chest, pressing against my back. He doesn¡¯t say anything, he just keeps a tight grip around me, as if I¡¯m due to fall off the horse again. I distract myself by gripping onto the saddle, so that the need of his help lessens, but Caspian doesn¡¯t let go.

    We regroup with the army, and the men are quick to get themselves back in order. The clerics quickly heal soldiers, and others help them by wrapping up- Bodies¡­I gulp at the realisation that not everyone made it out of the assault.

    Sir Leiman rides up beside us, his expression grim. His armour is splattered with dirt and blood. I look uneasily at him. Everyone went through hell, just to find it again on the way home¡­Leiman¡¯s steed falls into step with ours, and he speaks from under his helmet.

    ¡°We lost fifteen, out of three fifty.¡± He states in a low tone, ashamed he couldn¡¯t do more for his comrades.

    Caspian exhales through his nose, his grip tightening on the reins. Yet he doesn¡¯t curse, or show his frustration. He keeps a stoic appearance, but I can feel his breaths slowing at the information.

    ¡°More than I wanted.¡± His grip on me closing in, ever so slightly. ¡°But not enough to stop.¡± Being in charge of an army must be so hard¡­Putting your mourning behind so your men can mirror a brave face and push on.

    Leiman nods, his gaze shifting to the men behind us. Caspian continues. ¡°We can¡¯t stay out here. The rations we were given won¡¯t last, not with what they threw at us.¡± His jaw tenses at the continuous maltreatment being piled onto his men.

    ¡°And the Krehvins?¡± Leiman hints at something he noticed in the strange behaviour of the beasts.

    ¡°Crazed. I¡¯m not sure how it spread so far west. But they don¡¯t hunt in packs, and I don¡¯t doubt more will come, with so much blood in the air.¡± Leiman nods, thankful that he wasn¡¯t the only one that noticed the ¡®beast craze¡¯ affecting the creatures.

    ¡°We need to reach Arleigh before dawn. We¡¯ll ride through the night.¡± Caspian, already pulling the reins forward, states in a commanding voice.

    Leiman salutes, turning his horse away to relay the orders down the line of scattered men. The soldiers don¡¯t complain, nor hesitate. They just finish up their after-attack duties and press forward.

    I bite the inside of my cheek, watching as the world around us darkens and the blue stars watch over us from above. A twinkle of fireflies flutters through the tall grass as we ride on.

    The air feels heavy.

    This world has monsters. Of course it bloody does.

    cxxx{}::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

    We travel along the edge of a vast lake, the water dark and glimmering with the light of the moon. The path starts to become sloshy with damp soil, the air thick with the scent of wet earth. This must be a marshland.

    Then, in the distance, a village emerges.

    Half of it is built on the marsh land, but the majority of it lies on wooden stilts built above the water. The ground too soft for the whole village to lay on its ground. The flickering glow of lanterns reflects off the lake¡¯s surface, casting long streaks of gold light along its rippling surface.

    The soldiers sigh a wave of relief. Their voices mutter about ¡®how good it feels to be home¡¯ and for some, at least ¡®close¡¯ to home. Even the more war-weary men among them seem to breathe easier, being in their own land again.

    As we approach, some of the soldiers break away from the main group. A handful of them, turning towards the village, greeted by families who heard the army¡¯s commotion. While others disappear down winding paths that lead to nearby settlements, the army¡¯s total lessening.

    Caspian and Sir Leiman pull ahead, conversing in low voices as the soldiers begin setting up camp outside the village boundaries. Some begin unloading what little provisions they have left, while others settle into their bedrolls beneath the open sky. It being too late in the night to restock, or take on other duties besides sleep.

    ¡°We¡¯ll take the inn?¡± Leiman asks, dismounting. ¡°There should be enough room there for the high command.¡± Caspian nods in response.

    ¡°Set up guards around the perimeter. The rest of the men will stay outside.¡± Caspian turns to the weary men. ¡°It¡¯ll give them some time to relax without restrictions.¡±

    I frown, shifting in the saddle.

    What about me?

    Before I can dwell on it, we move into the village with the other high command. Passing through the sleeping village, we arrive at a tudor style tavern. The smell of smoke and alcohol emanating from it. Caspian unknots the cloak and without warning, grips my waist and lifts me from the horse. I tense as my feet hit the ground and yank myself from his hold before he can steady me. He says nothing, just raising a brow at me, before turning back to Leiman.

    Caspian, bracing his wounded arm, swings down from his horse. He hands the reins off to a very sleepy stable boy, adjusting his gloves as if this was just another routine stop.

    ¡°The maiden?¡± Leiman asks, taking off his helmet, barely glancing at me.

    I stand with my arms crossed, warming my arms up at the sudden heat loss.

    ¡°She stays with me.¡± Caspian states, removing a bag from his horse before handing a coin to the stable boy.

    ¡°What?¡± I snap my head towards him, disgust written all over my face. ¡°No.¡± My voice sharp in defiance.

    Caspian tilts his head ever so slightly, frowning his eyebrows. ¡°Oh. You¡¯d rather sleep outside?¡± My thoughts go back to the creatures out there. My jaw clenches and I turn my face away from him with a huff.

    Without another word, Caspian guides me into the tavern holding the door open for me.

    I can¡¯t believe I have to share a room with this asshole.

 Chapter Nine

    The moment Caspian steps into the inn, the sleepy tavern keeper¡¯s face lights up.

    ¡°My lord! What a sight it is to see your safe return!¡± The older man wipes his hands on his apron, gleaming as Caspian walks towards the bar. ¡°You needn¡¯t worry my lord. The best room is yours, free of charge.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary.¡± He smiles at the man, his tone leaving no room for argument. He pulls a coin purse off his belt, putting it on the bar. ¡°Can you bring up a bowl of hot water, and some bread? Without waking up the kitchen staff.¡±

    The innkeeper hesitates, his hand hovering over the pouch, as if debating whether he should refuse or not. But then he meets Caspian¡¯s gaze. Caspian raises his brow, daring the man to refuse, and the keeper smiles at Caspian, thankful.

    ¡°As you wish my lord.¡±

    He disappears into the back, returning moments later with a simple meal. A plate of some cold meats, cheese and bread. Telling Caspian he¡¯ll get his wife to bring up the hot water once it¡¯s boiled. Caspian thanks the man, before taking the plate in one hand and turning back to me.¡°We¡¯re going up.¡±

    I scowl, but don¡¯t argue. My exhaustion outweighing my stubbornness.

    Caspian moves to the stairs nearby. He walks up, navigating the narrow wooden staircase with silent ease. I follow reluctantly, every step up feeling heavier than the last, my eyes struggling to keep open. The warmth of the tavern below fades as we reach the first floor.

    Walking into the hallway, lined with thick wooden doors, each leading to a modest room, we walk to the last door.

    I don¡¯t need him to say anything. This is¡­our room.

    The realisation tightens in my chest, and I take a gulp, Caspian¡¯s heat radiating from behind me. He shifts the plate in one hand, pushing the door open with the other. His gaze flicks from me to the room, telling me to enter with his eyes. I hesitate. Just for a second. But I swallow a breath and enter the room.

    The door shuts behind me and my heart skips a beat. I don¡¯t turn around to face his large presence, anxiety building in me.

    The room is small, too small. It¡¯s a modest space, with a single table and chair, a washbasin, and a bed pressed against the wall.

    Eh..No way.

    There¡¯s no fucking way I¡¯m sharing a bed with this asshole.

    Is that what he wants? He wants to¡­My stomach twists, my safety becoming a concern as I put my situation into words. I am locked in a room with a man. A man twice the size of me. Twice the size!!

    However, Caspian doesn¡¯t seem to care. He sets the plate of food down, then throws down his cloak and bag. He begins to fully remove his gauntlets from his arms, once done, his hands then move to his sword belt, unbuckling it and setting it aside on the table. My breaths get heavy, scenarios rushing through my mind, each one worse than the other. He controls his every movement, as if this arrangement doesn¡¯t bother him in the slightest, just as though he was carrying out another duty.

    I awkwardly stand in the middle of the room, my arms tightening over my chest, nervous for whatever might happen next.

    ¡°You take the bed.¡± Caspian says, voice flat, as he pulls the chair from the corner of the room. ¡°I¡¯ll rest here.¡± That¡¯s it? I release a breath I didn¡¯t even realise I was holding.

    I don¡¯t argue. My nerves are wrong and that¡¯s all that matters.

    I glance at the chair, it¡¯s sturdy but nothing close to comfortable. Good. I stay still in the middle of the room, idling myself by watching my feet shuffle on the wood floor. I hear Caspian let out an exasperated sigh, walking over to the table. I peer up at him, and watch as he breaks off a piece of bread from the plate and hands it to me.

    I stare at it with an awkward expression, clearly uncomfortable at this situation.

    ¡°You need to eat.¡± He says calmly, trying to ease me.

    Caspian exhales through his nose, clearly done with my defiance. With an annoyed expression, he puts the bread in his mouth and walks past me, pulling at the buckles of outer armour. A knock suddenly cuts the silence, and Caspian walks to the door.

    ¡°My lord, your hot water.¡± A beautiful older woman in an old grecian attire, balancing a porcelain bowl, enters, putting the bowl on the table.

    ¡°Rest now, you¡¯ve done more than enough.¡± The woman smiles at Caspian¡¯s words, putting a hand to her heart as she bows to him. She leaves without another word, and Caspian closes the door behind her, moving back to the table. He takes off the rest of his armour, and that¡¯s when I see it. His tunic sleeve is stained with a deep red, blood seeping through the fabric. My breath catches.

    Oh my¡­I thought Caspian had received a graze off the beast in the field. But the way the crimson spreads against the cloth¡­That¡¯s no small wound.

    Caspian hears the involuntary gasp I let out.

    ¡°Go to bed.¡± He commands, turning his head slightly in my direction.

    I swallow hard. I don¡¯t want to listen to him, but his tone leaves me little choice. Without a word, I move to the bed. The mattress creaks slightly as I lower myself onto it, my muscles instantly relaxing. I slip my shoes off, and place them beside the bed.

    I shuffle myself under the covers, keeping myself as close to the wall as possible. I turn to face the wall, curling my knees up, the need to sleep washing over me..

    The soft sound of fabric ruffling, breaks my concentration. I slowly peel the covers away from my face and peek over my shoulder.

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    Caspian stands by the table with his back turned from me, pulling his tunic over his head. Woah¡­

    The dim candle light flickers against his bare skin, revealing a mass of black celtic markings sprawled across his skin. The design is intricate, and purposely placed to highlight the lines of his muscles. The light accentuates the ridges of his large muscles as he shifts himself to assess his wound. My gaze follows his hands as they move to his wound, and I bite my lip at the extent of it. Three, long, deep gashes stretch along his side, dark with dried blood. As he shifts, fresh crimson weeps from the torn flesh.

    Caspian doesn¡¯t react to the injury, dipping the cloth into the water and holding it against his side.

    ¡°Go to sleep, Genevieve.¡± I flinch from being caught, my face heating up, I pull the covers over my face and turn back to the wall. A dim glow lights up the room momentarily.

    Magic¡­

    I hear cloth rustling once more, then the soft scrape of wood as Caspian moves into the chair.

    There''s a long exhale, then silence. But I know he¡¯s still awake, staring at me.

    I try to ignore his presence, my eyes growing heavier as my exhaustion multiplies. I close my eyes, letting sleep wash over me. Refusing to acknowledge Caspian¡¯s stern eye watching over the room so I don¡¯t escape.

    cxxx{}::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

    I wake up to silence. For a moment I forget where I am, until I shift and the unfamiliar feel of the blanket reminds me. The tavern.

    Caspian.

    I snap my eyes open, turning my head to see if he¡¯s woken up yet.

    He¡¯s still there.

    His posture is rigid, his forearms resting on his knees and his head tilted downwards. His sword placed against the chair for quick access.

    He looks asleep¡­

    A curt smile spreads across my face. I slowly push the blanket off me and with careful movements, I swing myself off the bed. Slipping my shoes one, I stand avoiding the creaks in the floorboards. Still asleep¡­

    My heart pounds as I take a step towards the door. I suck in a breath as I try to walk past Caspian, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. I see the door handle within reach, I take another step-

    A hand appears in front of me.

    I freeze.

    My stomach drops as I slowly turn my head down to the broad hand blocking my path. I follow the arm to Caspian¡¯s face. His head is still tilted downwards, but through his hair I can see his eyes sharp and alert, glaring at me. He doesn¡¯t look surprised however, he knows I was going to try this.

    ¡°Where?¡± His voice is deep from waking up. ¡°Exactly-¡± He slowly lifts his head, meeting my eyes, his gaze powerful with authority. ¡°-do you think you¡¯re going?¡±

    My mind draws a blank, my ability to speak becomes a fumbling mess of ¡®uhh¡¯s and ¡®well-¡¯s. The air between us grows thick and heavy, and Caspian raises a brow to me, wanting an answer. I just scowl at him, keeping my silence, and take a step back.

    Caspian doesn¡¯t press further, his eyes scan me from head to toe before looking away and getting up. Stretching as he walks to the table, he puts on his armour facing me. I don¡¯t watch, keeping my gaze to the wall until he¡¯s ready. He walks over to the chair, holding his cloak, and picks up his carved sword, putting it in his belt before walking to the door.

    ¡°Let''s eat.¡± He prompts me by holding the door open.

    We make it to the tavern¡¯s main hall, filled with hums and quiet movements. A small population of the village¡¯s patrons fill the tiny hall, eating their breakfast and conversing their trade. Entering the hall, the men in the room turn their gaze to Caspian. In an instant they all stand, saluting with a fist to their hearts. Caspian doesn¡¯t react, instead walking to a free table and pulling a chair out for me before sitting in his own. He doesn¡¯t tell me to follow, knowing he doesn¡¯t need to. He knows I will. What other choice do I have?

    Walking to the table, I sit in the chair he pulled out for me.

    A man then walks up to Caspian, his fist to his heart.

    ¡°My lord, by the Gods you¡¯ve returned safely.¡± The man hesitates for a moment, before continuing to speak. ¡°Has there been any progression in the trade routes?¡±

    Caspian takes a breath, inclining his head towards the man, with an unreadable expression on his face. ¡°No change.¡± For a brief moment, Caspian¡¯s gaze darkens, something tense and unrelenting settling on his face.

    ¡°I¡¯m due elsewhere, my friend. I hope this will be the last time.¡± The villager¡¯s face scrunches, his jaw ticks, his anger seething below his expression.

    ¡°That bastard king! He may want us to fucking wither, but we¡¯ll hold strong!¡± His motives are strong, unshaken by the tyrant.He reassures Caspian that in his absence his people can still live, not without strain, but live.

    ¡°We might as well¡­Cut down the old sod.¡± The man mutters, enraged by the corruption of the rulers.

    Caspian puts a firm hand on the man¡¯s arm, bringing him down to a more reasonable state.

    ¡°Be careful friend, your heart may speak true but your words are treason.¡± The man seems hypnotised by Caspian¡¯s words. Calming himself, he gives Caspian a reluctant nod. The fire in his eyes is still burning, but he acknowledges that everyone is suffering. Even Caspian. But doing rash actions will only make things worse.

    I lose myself in thought at the exchange. The king cut off trade routes to Caspian¡¯s county? Why? Why would you kill your people? Even if it¡¯s something to do with Caspian¡¯s reputation, these are the king¡¯s people too? It doesn¡¯t make sense.

    The man salutes Caspian again, before leaving the table. Caspian calls over a barmaid asking for food, and before too long she brings out two plates of meats, cheese and bread. Is this just the standard meal choice?

    Caspian cuts into the bread, spreading the soft cheese over it with a knife. He watches me pick at the dull plate, and exhales.

    ¡°Eat.¡± He holds out the bread in front of me.

    I look up to him to just look back on my plate, to shuffle the bread in place.

    ¡°I¡¯m not hungry.¡± I mutter.

    Caspian exhales through his nose, setting down the knife on the table. Turning his full attention onto me. ¡°You didn¡¯t eat last night either.¡± He tilts his head to get my gaze to him. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to have you starve.¡±

    He reaches over the table and pushes my plate closer to me.

    ¡°Eat.¡± He says in a softer tone.

    I want to fight back, but my hunger overrules my attitude. I don¡¯t take his offering, instead compiling my own basic meal. Caspian lets out a huff, but continues to eat, not pressing the matter.

    We continue to eat in an awkward silence, until heavy footsteps descend the stairs. It¡¯s Sir Leiman and the other high command, already dressed and cloaks fastened. They don¡¯t sit, instead wait for us to finish.

    Caspian picks up a cloth and wipes his hands, putting it back on the table and stands in one fluid motion. He picks up his cloak and nods to his men.

    ¡°It¡¯s time to go.¡± He offers a hand for me to stand with, I unconsciously take it, wiping my hands on my dress.

    The officers barely notice me, knowing I¡¯m Caspian¡¯s problem to deal with. A task. Nothing more.

    Unease settles in my chest again.

    Next stop, Caspian¡¯s home. The place where I¡¯ll find the reason he¡¯s kept me hostage¡­

 Chapter Ten

    The road stretches endlessly before us, winding through rolling hills and soft peaks on the skirts of jagged mountains. The air here is different. It¡¯s clearer, lighter. It''s as if the lands we left behind had a curse placed upon them. Even the men feel it. Their shoulder¡¯s are relaxed and the frequent wary glances have lessened, they know they¡¯re home.

    Hours have passed on the road, the once low sun and cool morning, has turned into a near-eve light with lukewarm temperatures. Though the change is hard to tell with the cloak trapping mine and Caspian¡¯s heat together.

    As the sun sinks deeper into its evening hues, the sight of a beautiful city comes into view. Riding closer I can see its beauty magnified. It has a magnificent blend of medieval buildings with slanted roofs of orange tiles, and nature surrounding each building.

    Built to incorporate the windy river next to it, moss covered bridges are abundant between dimly lit paths. There¡¯s also towering trees that stand against buildings, with lanterns lining the paths shrouded by greenery, creating a romantic, mystical look to the city¡¯s outer zone.

    This must be Arken.

    It''s a far cry from Arrton, this place is alive. Unlike the people of Arrton, here, people live with nature rather than shrouding it.

    As we ride closer, people outside of their homes glace up, startled by the large parade of men. Whispers become murmurs, and murmurs become something louder. A cheer erupts.

    ¡°Duke Astarteu!¡±

    Their voices rise, their excitement causing words to be overlapped.

    ¡°He¡¯s returned!¡±

    A wave of energy ripples through the streets. Men and women rush to the front of their homes to watch the men¡¯s return. Children run out to sprint alongside the horses, their laughter echoing in the air as we ride forward.

    Caspian doesn¡¯t react to the cheers. Instead he keeps his head up, accepting their loyalty with pride.

    As we move deeper into the city¡¯s heart, the dirt paths become cobbled in tan stone, a flame design etched into the city¡¯s centre. Caspian¡¯s family line. The centre is filled with market stalls and business buildings surrounding it. Overhead, ribbons of red and purple sway between large wooden lantern posts. This place is beautiful..! I gawk at the sight of the charming city.

    The welcoming homecoming wasn¡¯t what I expected. I shuffle in the saddle, a little shy about the amount of eyes on me, heaven knows what they¡¯re thinking with me sharing a horse with Caspian, cloak secured.

    A castle lays not so far ahead, a vast flowering field with a few scattered trees separates it from the city. The cheers fade as we ride closer to the limestone castle, the roof tiles matching the orange ones from the city. We ride through the outer walls of the castle, and ride to the entrance of the castle.

    I should be glad the journey is over, but nerves set in. This is it. This is where I¡¯ll be for¡­ever? Questions and ideas blitz through my brain. Why does Caspian keep me hostage? Why keep me here? And If Mandell was right. Will he let me go home soon?

    Caspian pulls his horse to a halt in front of the towering doors of the castle. The rest of the army follows suit.

    Inside the gap between the castle and the surrounding landscape, the grounds remind me of the palace in Arrton. Horsekeepers, blacksmiths and other professions are in plentiful supply, inside the inner walls of the castle, their duties primarily focused on the running of the castle, just like in Arrton. The grounds are quickly filled with the noises of shifting saddles and murmured orders being thrown about as the soldiers dismount.

    Caspian skillfully unknots his broken cloak from around us, and passes it off to one of the stewards of the castle. Before I can make a move, Caspian swings off his horse with practiced ease, his wound no longer giving him grief, and then turns to me.

    I scowl, knowing the unavoidable scene that''s about to happen.

    Before I can even protest, Caspian puts his hands on my waist and lifts me off the horse, my hands instinctively latching onto his shoulders as he does so. The moment I touch the ground, I once again shove his hands off me, and take a step back.

    His expression doesn¡¯t change. Uncaring of my actions, he moves back to his horse, he takes off his bag before handing the reins off to a soldier. Caspian then strides to the large wooden doors, pushing it open with one hand then faces me. Ushering with the tilt of his head to ¡®come inside¡¯. Reluctantly, I follow.

    Stepping into the castle, the air changes. Servants are rushing around to put up decorations, pausing to bow to Caspian as they walk past him. It is clear Caspian¡¯s arrival wasn¡¯t expected to be so early. I glance around the foyer of the castle, a large grand staircase is placed in the middle of the room with two large corridors connected to it on either side. Tapestries hang alongside the large corridors, the space is grand, but not excessive. It is humble in comparison to the palace, matching Caspian¡¯s reserved nature.

    My thoughts are cut off by a veiled older woman in a strange mix of English and Grecian attire, walking towards us with her arms crossed.

    ¡°Your raven said you¡¯d be here after three moons pass.¡± Her voice is sharp and authoritative.

    ¡°Something came up.¡± Caspian states, turning his head to look at me.

    ¡°You brought home a woman?¡± She squints her eyes at me, assessing my character. ¡°Well as long as she¡¯s better than the last one, I¡¯m not bothered.¡± She tuts, before moving closer to Caspian to inspect his attire. Last one? Does he frequently bring home women? Have I been kidnapped by a pervert?

    ¡°You smell like blood.¡± Her lips purse. ¡°Again.¡±

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    Unimpressed by her words, Caspian flicks a brow towards her, before moving on.

    ¡°This is Genevieve. She stays close.¡± Caspian turns back to me. ¡°You¡¯ll keep an eye on her, no exceptions.¡±

    The veiled woman tuts at my appearance, seemingly unhappy with the appearance. She waves her hand to a nearby servant, causing her to stop. ¡°Prepare hot water for the duke.¡± The servant bows quickly before hurrying off.

    I remain still, my arms crossed as the veiled woman continues her assessment of me. She moves with authority, every step coordinated, her expression is sharp with criticism that it seems more professional than personal.

    She squints, her judgement sharp and honest.

    ¡°She looks weary and difficult.¡±

    I blink at the absurd insult. Excuse me?

    The woman purses her lips together, her head turning back to Caspian to continue to talk about me, as if I wasn¡¯t there.

    ¡°Troublesome. Like she talks back, an arguer than a worker.¡±

    I scoff, an appalled expression resting on my face.

    ¡°Excu-¡±

    ¡°Oh, and an attitude.¡± The woman cuts me off with raised brows. She glares at Caspian. ¡°And you expect me to manage this?¡± This bitch!

    ¡°Just keep an eye on her, Nila.¡± Caspian reiterates the importance of keeping me under watch. ¡°She¡¯ll work under you while I figure out her place in all this.¡±

    I frown. I have to work under her?

    Nila lets out a slow breath, looking me up and down once more. ¡°Well, a bath is in order then. Come along girl.¡± Nila turns to leave, glaring at me to follow before walking away.

    Caspian doesn¡¯t stick around, he heads towards Sir Leiman and the other officers and the post war discussions begin. Before his presence could disappear from behind me I pick up parts of their conversation.

    Something about the king, something about the war and¡­

    Something I¡¯m not meant to hear. A prophecy?

    Nila leads me away from the grand foyer, and heads towards a narrow passage tucked behind a wooden door nearby. It¡¯s nothing as spectacular as the stairs before, it¡¯s dimly lit and the ceilings aren¡¯t as towering.

    The servant¡¯s staircase.

    Before I close the door behind me, I glance back at Caspian and the others, but they¡¯re already out of sight. They¡¯ve probably gone to a war room to discuss.

    Nila doesn¡¯t slow, her pace is brisk and I have to race up the stairs to keep up with her. At the top, we emerge into a corridor of wooden doors, each leads to another staircase, room or corridor. Nila keeps walking, a junction appears and we turn right and head into the nearest room. The room is very clearly a public bathroom for the servants to use. A few large wooden tubs are placed in the room and are monitored by the bathroom staff, who¡¯s job is to keep the water clean and hot. Steam rolls off the top of the water with lavender floating on its surface. My body yearns to clean off the dirt, grime, blood and hell knows what else, on me.

    ¡°Take your clothes off. You stink like horse shit and blood.¡± She waits for me to shed my clothes, but my cheeks flush with a tint of red.

    ¡°Here?¡± The room has a few other female servants bathing, but my modern apprehension to be publicly indecent, makes me shy to remove my clothing in front of everyone.

    ¡°Where else? You can¡¯t bathe in clothes.¡± We have a brief war of stares, before the battle is over and I awkwardly strip my clothes down. Bare, I hand my clothes over to Nila who ogles them for a moment.

    ¡°This is the attire of Arrton palace maids¡­You¡¯re from Arrton?¡± Sympathy laces her voice, as if she¡¯s trying to form a sympathetic relationship with me.

    I stare at her with a solemn face. Does my home even exist anymore? Even if it did, would she believe me that I¡¯m not from this world?

    ¡°I¡¯m not even sure where I¡¯m from.¡± I mumble out, sadness washing over me at the realisation I may never see my home again. Nila gives me a strange look, before moving on and ushering me into the bath, probably moving on knowing the topic seems sensitive to me.

    ¡°You have 10 minutes, try and relax. You may not want to be here, but it¡¯s where you are now. Accept it and move on, you won¡¯t be maltreated here.¡± She tries to offer me some sympathy, but her tone comes off strong. Leaving me baffled if she¡¯s trying to be nice, or commanding.

    Nila, hands my clothes away to one of the bathroom servants, and within a few minutes they return with clothing befitting the attire of the county.

    ¡°There''ll be a feast tonight for the blessed return of the duke. You¡¯ll be serving him tonight.¡± She places the clothes down on a table nearby, taking a linen cloth from the cupboard she places it on top.

    ¡°When you¡¯re done, you¡¯ll dress in the uniform of the castle maids in Arken.¡± She looks to the other women in the room, with a stare that reads ¡®watch her, or else.¡¯ The women nod as Nila turns to leave the room.

    Upon the shutting of the door, two young women in the tub next to me, shuffle to the edge and tap my shoulder.

    I turn to the women who are a few inches away from me, with a slightly startled look. Awkwardly I slowly cover my chest as they begin talking to me.

    ¡°Hello.¡± One with brown curly hair, smiles. The other one, with a slightly lighter shade, waves at me.

    ¡°I¡¯m Leia, and this is Amaline.¡± Amaline smiles, giving me a curt hello before Leia continues to talk.

    ¡°I heard you rode in on the duke¡¯s horse.¡± Leia giggles, as if any mention of the duke¡¯s name is worthy of fluster and tee-hee¡¯s. ¡°Why?¡± She leans over the bath edge, smiling, urging me to fulfil her wish of gossip.

    ¡°Uh¡­I think it¡¯s so he can keep an eye on me?¡± I¡¯m pretty sure if I tell them, he may think i¡¯m a spy, I¡¯ll never be left alone in this place.

    ¡°Oh my Gods! Why?¡± I let out a silent laugh at the tone of her question, her personality shining through her words.

    ¡°Ehh¡­I¡¯m not sure.¡± I awkwardly smile at the girls, but their faces  don¡¯t change, instead their grins grow wider.

    ¡°Are you gonna be the new lady? The last one was awful.¡± They tease knowing I''m just a maid in a strange situation, but their hopeless romantic dreams lead them onto a delusional train of thought.

    ¡°The last one?¡± I question, curious to know if Caspian really was married before.

    ¡°She was a noble lady from Arrton, the king arranged the marriage so he could know what¡¯s going on in his ¡®cut off¡¯ county.¡± Amaline nods to Leia¡¯s words before cutting in with her own memories of the woman.

    ¡°She was an awful mean woman, and when the duke would go out on his duties given by the king, she¡¯d beat the staff members. This scar here, ¡° She points to a line on her shoulder. ¡°Was when I accidentally tripped into her in the hallway. I¡¯m so glad the duke let her divorce him, so she could marry the prince.¡±

    ¡°So glad.¡± Leia chimes in to agree with Amaline.

    I can¡¯t believe Caspian was once married. I think I¡¯d rather run away than ever marrying that brute. A question suddenly pops in my head, a confirmation of something I assumed but wanted to know more on.

    ¡°Cut off county?¡± The girls look taken aback at my question, as if my question was second hand knowledge.

    Amaline leans forward, her hand flicking gracefully in the air and speaks the truth of the county, and Caspian¡¯s maltreatment.