Lord Firebane

As Lillian trailed behind Lord Firebane, her mind and heart still struggled to grasp the reality of her newfound freedom from Tywin. It felt too good to be true, considering she had lost all hope of ever escaping him.

Yet, her joy was slightly dampened by the fact that the man leading her was setting a pace reminiscent of a runaway carriage, pulling her hand so forcefully that she was starting to believe he might have a secret career in tug-of-war.

"Could we, perhaps, slow down, My Lord?" Lillian inquired, her plea falling on deaf ears as Lord Firebane remained as silent as a stubborn mule, determined to outpace the wind. The only response she received was the increasing pain in her hand, making her wonder if she should have invested in a sturdier glove.

Navigating the treacherous terrain in her absurdly uncomfortable long dress felt like attempting to dance on a field of thorns. Every step was a delicate move between grace and potential disaster.

"Fantastic start," Lillian mumbled to herself, suppressing the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. As she continued to traipse through the woods, she couldn't shake the burning question: Where in the realm were they even heading?

Having departed from the arena, they had continued their seemingly endless stroll. Lillian couldn't help but entertain the thought – were they planning to walk all the way to Pyralon? That seemed ludicrous, considering Pyralon was practically in another realm, not just another kingdom.

Being a woman of reason, Lillian contemplated, "My Lord, do we seek to set a new record in cross-kingdom trekking? The journey to Pyralon is quite the distance, you know."

Yet again, her attempt at communication was met with the resounding silence of Lord Firebane, as if he had taken a vow of silence or was in training for a mime competition.

Unable to bear the mystery any longer, Lillian decided to take matters into her own hands. "Can you at least give me a clue, My Lord? Pyralon, you mentioned it earlier."

But alas, the man remained as talkative as a stoic statue. Lillian, unaccustomed to being ignored, couldn't help but feel a sting of disbelief.

After all, wasn't Lord Firebane supposed to be a Lord or a Nobleman? Weren't they supposed to be rolling in riches and perhaps, conveniently, a carriage?

Her frustration mounting, Lillian pressed on, "I don't mean to sound entitled, but aren't Lords known for having a knack for more comfortable modes of transportation? Carriages, perhaps? Horses? Wagons?"

In the midst of her mild rant, she couldn't ignore the unexpected twinge of hurt and anger. Lord Firebane's stoic demeanor, impervious to her charms, was a new experience for someone accustomed to admirers fighting each other to the death in tournaments just for a glimpse of her radiance.

"Let me go!" Lillian exclaimed, yanking her hand away from Lord Firebane's relentless grip.

His response was a furrowed brow, but Lillian wasn't about to let the matter slide. "I won't budge another step until you deign to share our destination or, better yet, engage in a conversation," she asserted, determined to reclaim a semblance of control over the situation.

To her astonishment, Lord Firebane, without a word, simply turned and continued his unyielding march, leaving Lillian standing there with a mix of indignation and disbelief.

Undeterred, Lillian rolled her eyes and muttered, "Well, that's gratitude for you," before begrudgingly trailing behind him.

After what felt like an eternity, Lord Firebane mercifully halted. Lillian, still nursing a bruised ego, eyed a stunning white mare and a brown leather bag, both tethered to a tree.

"We're here," Lord Firebane declared, breaking his silence, though not quite in the explanatory manner Lillian had hoped for. She stood there, arms folded, waiting for more information.

Her patience was rewarded as he approached the horse and bag. Lillian observed with a raised eyebrow as he attended to his horse with an unexpected gentleness, then retrieved the bag, turning to face her with an air of accomplishment.

"Strip," Lord Firebane commanded, his voice carrying an authoritative tone that left Lillian dumbfounded.

"What??" Lillian's shocked response hung in the air, unsure if she had misheard the absurd instruction.

"I said, undress," Lord Firebane repeated, his tone unwavering. Lillian's expression shifted from shock to a mix of disbelief and irritation. What on earth was happening?

Observing Lillian's discomfort, Lord Firebane offered an explanation that only fueled her exasperation. "Your dress appears to be causing you considerable discomfort. Take it off."

"And Waltz around in the nude?" Lillian retorted, her voice laced with incredulity. "I'll pass, thank you very much, My Lord. I think I can man—"

Her protest was cut short as Lord Firebane carelessly tossed a bundle of clothes in her direction, hitting her square in the face. Lillian, caught off guard, managed to grab the clothes before they ended up in a heap on the ground. She shot him a glare, mentally dubbing him the epitome of rudeness.

"If rudeness had a face, it would be yours," Lillian muttered under her breath, ready to voice her discontent. However, before she could unleash her tirade, Lord Firebane began to speak.

"Put these on, and do it quickly. Tywin's men are likely hot on our trails," Lord Firebane ordered, urgency tinging his words.

The mention of Tywin's relentless pursuit sent a shiver down Lillian's spine. How did Lord Firebane know they were being pursued? Regardless, there was no way she was disrobing in front of him.

"I have my limits. I won't undress in front of you," Lillian asserted with unwavering resolve.

Lord Firebane, seemingly immune to her protests, casually retrieved the brown bag before delivering a cold command. "Hurry up," he demanded, striding deeper into the woods, leaving Lillian alone with the horse.

Feeling a mix of annoyance and resignation, Lillian complied, swiftly changing into the clothes provided. The attire turned out to be a simple yet elegant blue dress, snug in some places but undeniably comfortable. She couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected fit, pondering momentarily on the mysterious foresight of the rude Lord Firebane.

Having undergone her wardrobe change, Lillian patiently awaited Lord Firebane's return. When he emerged, clad in another crisp white shirt, his presence exuded a manly charm that was impossible to ignore. His eyes, a golden blaze, seemed to hold the intensity of flames, captivating Lillian to the point where she couldn't tear her gaze away.

"Are you ready?" Lord Firebane inquired, interrupting her silent admiration.

But Lillian, lost in the allure of his fiery gaze, failed to respond.

The spell was abruptly broken as a cloak rudely collided with her face, prompting a disgruntled frown as she cleared her vision.

"Why do you love tossing things?" Lillian muttered under her breath, her annoyance apparent.

"Wear that swiftly and cover your head," Lord Firebane commanded, already mounted on his horse.

Lillian complied, draping the cloak over herself as instructed.

Lord Firebane extended his hand, a silent invitation for her to join him on the horse. With a hint of reluctance, she obliged.

"Hold on," Lord Firebane directed, and at first, Lillian hesitated. However, as they set off, her grip slowly tightened around his waist, her soft form pressing gently against his back. The ride began, and Lillian found herself navigating a complex mix of emotions, caught between the strange circumstances and the undeniable allure of the mysterious Lord Firebane.