3 What a man wants from a woman

It would have been a horrifying scene for anyone to witness. When her father's head was cut Amelia almost closed her eyes; only barely did manage to keep her gaze steady. The first slash with the sword did not finish the job. Her fathers head tipped over to one side, barely hanging on to his body by a small piece of bloody flesh. By the second strike it was completely severed. His headless body remained in position for a short moment before giving in and falling flatly on the floor.

The man who had kept Amelia locked up and hidden away from the world for years, the one who had looked at her like she was nothing but a filthy rat- that man was now dead. He was laying lifeless in a pool of his own blood. And soon the only people who would ever grieve for him would be gone too.

For a short moment Amelia forgot about her fear, shame and confusion. She felt relieved. She felt like there was some kind of justice to the unfair world that she had been born into. She did not register her brother swearing or the madam's shrieks.

The following two executions were quicker and cleaner than her father's had been. The madam was last, and when her head dropped Amelia felt as if she could finally breathe; she had been suffocating for over four years but now the air she inhaled finally reached her lungs. And even though it was vile, in her mind she was gloating that they were dead while she was alive.

She quickly got a grasp on reality and realized the danger of the situation she was in though, when she got a glance of the face of the black haired man that had just carried out the execution of her family. He looked calm and detached, like the bodies on the floor were not those of human beings but vermin.

Amelia felt a cold shiver go down her spine. She spun around and hurried out of the open front door in a desperate effort to put as much distance between herself and the man inside as possible.

***

"Do you know how to ride miss Ainsworth? Paul, the young knight with orders to escort Amelia, asked her when they had arrived to were the knights horses had been tied up. He was acting carefully and it was obvious that he tried to come off as harmless as a man of his big stature possibly could. During their walk to the horses he had made sure not to get to close to her, and every time he spoke he did so in a calm and quiet tone.

Amelia shook her head slightly while not lifting her gaze from her feet. The terror she had felt had not completely died down during her walk even though the knight seemed to be good tempered.

"Then, if you excuse me, would you be alright with riding with me? We did not bring a carriage unfortunately…"

Amelia nodded. It was for the better anyway, since a long ride in a carriage would probably cause her to throw up.

"I figure you will not be so stupid as to try to run away while we travel miss Ainsworth" Paul stated as he cut off the rope that tied her wrists. After Amelia shook her head, he lifted her up to sit on the back of one of the horses.

Before mounting it himself he took off his cape and attempted to wrap it around Amelias shoulders. Despite realising his thoughful intention behind the action she tensed up as he closed in on her.

"I'm sorry miss Ainsworth. I was only offering you my cape for warmth."

"Yes…sorry…" her voice was hoarse and quiet but she was just glad that she finally managed to speak.

They rode in silence, the only noice being that of the horse's hooves meeting the ground. The night was dark, so much so that their travel would be impossible if it weren't for the dimly lit streetlights. Amelia had her arms wrapped around Pauls waist to keep herself from falling off. She had been reluctant to touch him at first, in case he would be angered by it, but he had insisted on her doing so.

After they had been traveling for quite a while without talking the knight suddenly started speaking. "Miss Amelia?" By the tone of his voice he sounded reluctant, or nervous perhaps. "Do you know the identity of my master?"

Amelia bit her lip at his question. Of course she knew the identity of the black-haired man, it was hard not to know since he'd become a popular subject of conversation along nobles and servants alike. Very few things said about him were good.

He was Dario Beaumont, a faithful servant of the new king. He was rumured to be absolutely ruthless. Originally from unknown origins Dario had become the kings right hand man during the war of succession and was granted a noble title at the young age of 23. He now obeyed every single order he recieved no matter how cruel, killing men, women and children alike.

"I do know who he is" she answered in a voice so low it sounded almost like a whisper. Her hands slightly trembled but she hid it by balling them into fists.

The knight was quiet for a while, not sure about how to continue.

"And… do you have an idea of why he might've spared you life?" The implication in his words was obvious; he was warning her.

Amelia did know why Dario had not killed her. A man so cold he could kill without even blinking an eye would surely not disobey orders out of sympathy for a stranger. Rather, he wanted something from her. Most likely the same thing most men would want from a woman.

"I think I know why…"

She paused and bit her lip. Her entire being resented what she was about to say as stating it aloud would make her unfortunate fate seem more real. She wished that she could have been someone ignorant, to not know for just a while longer.

She closed her eyes and took a breath of the cold air before speaking.

"I believe that I'll be competent enough to fulfill the dukes' expectations of me, so you needn't worry sir Paul.