13 A night with a tyrant (1)
Amelia did not lift her head to look around the chamber since she had seen enough of it through the crack of the door to not bump into anything. She kept her gaze low, focusing it on the wooden floor directly ahead of her. The last thing she wanted was to make eyecontact with 'him'.
She walked into the room a bit more so that she was she was not standing too closly by the door while still maintainting a safe distance from the man who it belonged to. Then she simply stopped and performed a low curtsy similar to how a lowly servant would greet a high ranking noble.
"Amelia Ainsworth humbly greets His Grace, Duke Dario Beaumont."
She did her introduction carefully to not make a single mistake, but even though it ended up being nearly perfectly her greeting recieved no response. The duke didn't make a single sound to acknowledge her, and because he did not permit her to rise Amelia had no choice but to remain in the low curtsy.
She could feel him eyeing her from across the room and all she wanted to do was to cover herself. She felt dirty by just standing there practically half naked while being stared at by him.
After a few moments she heard the man finally start to move. From the sound of it he had pulled out a chair and was now walking towards her.
Amelia instinctively wanted to back away and put as much distance between herself and him as possible but remaied coolheaded and stayed as she where, despite her legs that were shaking from the strain of the drawn out curtsy. She knew that now was not the time for any thoughtless errors.
The closer he got the less sensible she became though and by every passing second the fear grew bigger. When his feet appeared in her field of vision she had become so tense that she noticably flinched when he suddenly tugged her arm.
"What are you doing standing like that? Get up."
The voice was just as deep and commanding as Amelia remembered it and it sent a cold shiver down her spine.
She did as he said right away, straightening her posture while making sure not to lift her head and meet his eyes.
The duke did not immediatly say anything after that.
The silence was heavy and Amelia barely dared to even breathe. She stayed completely quiet and still, focusing all her energy on maintaining a neutral expression on her face.
Then the duke moved again, almost making Amelia recoil by leaning over and reaching for something behind her. As he was towering over her she feared that the panic would take over as her vision became blurry and her ears started ringing. When he finally leaned back again he was holding some sort of fabric in his hand.
"I did not expect that they'd send you dressed like that" he murmered. His voice sounded annoyed or perhaps even disgusted.
In a swift motion he wrapped the fabric around Amelias shoulders not like a gentleman would but in a rather harch manner.
"Cover yourself with this" he said coldly before turning around and walking away from her.
With a shaky hand Amelia touched what had been placed on her. It was a knitted plaid of poor quality but it was warm and covered most of her upper body.
She did not know whether to be grateful for being covered up or scared for not seeming to appeal to the duke.
"Have a seat."
His voice was further away this time and Amelia raised her gaze to get an idea of the room.
It was plain looking without any unnecessary frills or adornments and on the far right end stood a canope bed with simple bedding. Across the bed on the left side was the fireplace and an L-shaped seating arrengement facing it, with a small sofa in the middle and two armchairs on one side.
The duke had taken a seat in one of the armchairs and he nodded for her to sit down as well.
The light from the fire cast harsh shadows on his face and made him look like it had been carved out of stone. If not for the scar that extended above the left eye his face could've been described as similar to that of a beautiful statue.
He did not wear any armor but somehow he still managed to look even more intimidating than he had when she last saw him, his muscles alarmingly evident even through the fabric of his shirt.
Amelia could not help but to imagine how much it would hurt to be beaten by a man of his stature.
She had to quickly push those thoughts away so that she would not be overwhelmed. She took a seat in the sofa on the side that was closest to the duke reasoning that it would be unwise to display her wariness in case it would offend him.
"Do you drink wine?" He asked her as she had settled down.
She nodded despite not being very fond of it, thinking that the alcohol could dull her fear and perhaps even the reduce pain that she was expecting to exprerience later tonight.
A large hand passed a crystal cup filled to the brim with the red liqud and in the warm light from the fire it almost resembled blood. She shuddered and clasped the glass between her hands, looking at her own distorted reflection in the drink. It made her appear even thinner than she usually did in the mirror and her stomach dropped at the thought that the duke could decide to discard her because of her gaunt appearance.
Despite not looking directly at him could feel his eyes on her and his gaze made her skin crawl like she was covered in bugs. The wine suddenly seemed much more appetizing.
