The Blood and the Mask

The air around Rosalind reeked of blood and it was not because she had just finished treating a wounded Count, rather it was because of the number of people lying dead not far away from her. The snow absorbed the blood but it wasn't able to mask the smell of death and misery.

In her past life, she heard stories about the Duke's brutality, the fact that he enjoyed beheading his enemies was well-known in the continent. Looking at the headless corpses that Denys was about to burn, Rosalind shivered.

"Scared?"

She flinched when she heard a deep voice behind her.

She turned around and lifted her head and thought she spotted black eyes that were staring at her. When she blinked, she could only see his deep bluish orbs. She immediately wondered if this was the effect of healing the Count.

"Are you not?" he tilted his head and smiled at her.

"No. Of course not," she answered.