A trigger warning: This next chapter was painful to write, and it messed up my head for a good while. But a story is a story...and here is the next part of it.

                                                                                                       ***

Lady Therese De Beauharnais, Duchess of Roche

29 November, Year 32 of King Frederick V of Monrique's reign

Roche Manor, Roche

Monrique

The twilight was too silent, almost like the calm before the storm.

Curled up on my windowsill, I sat very still, with my hands crossed on my lap. I watched the clouds glide across the skies above, slowly, gently, and the snowflakes float down to the ground with a soothing grace.

I watched, but my gaze was unfocused.

My mind was burning with a directionless, uncontrolled vengeance that I had not felt in a long time, and my heart...my heart was with the little boy that Rex had so cruelly taken from me this night.

My throat clogged up. Oh, Tommy.

It had been so easy to forget Rex's existence. He had been dormant for such a long time, I had assumed he had given up on trying to sabotage the petition.

However, truth be told, I had taken a significantly lengthy hiatus from the petition while taking care of my father. Mayhap Rex had simply been waiting for me to continue again, so that he could strike, and strike hard.

Whatever his reasons might have been, he had declared war this night. He had dared to abduct a boy I loved as my own son, from my own home.

My baby.

I closed my eyes. I could still vividly remember the day Tommy had been born in Alençon five years ago. All the Earls of Roche, Papa and I had been present for the birth, at the then Earl of Alençon's invitation. Although she would not remember it – she had been drunk, even then, and was drifting in and out of consciousness - I had sat right by Lady Rochelle, encouraging her and holding her hand through the birth.

And fearing and fretting over her and her child's well-being -

She had been in labour for more than a day, and the midwives had almost given up on her. The baby had been a few weeks overdue, and furthermore, he had been facing the wrong way around in her womb.

No one had believed he would survive, but he did. He had been a fighter. He had graced the world at dawn, just as the powerful rays of the sun had begun to spread through the skies like molten gold, purifying everything they touched.

Lady Rochelle fainted right after. I cried – a rare occurrence.

The midwives had allowed me to hold him first. Covered in thick blood and fluid, he had been the smallest, most precious little thing, with a scrunched-up face and the tiniest of baby blue eyes. He had cried, strong, loud and angry, ready to live his life. All the while he was wailing, I had simply gazed at him with tears brimming in my eyes, stunned and moved by the priceless miracle I held in my arms.

It was a moment I would remember for the rest of my life.

Everyone had discussed for days later on what to name him. According to the Earl of Alençon, the baby was his earldom's long-awaited heir, and therefore, his name had to be one that made a statement in itself.

Frederick, after the King of Monrique? Too presumptuous.

Or Giles, after his father? Lady Rochelle had shouted it down.

Or George, after his paternal uncle, the Earl of Alençon? They were willing to consider it.

Or Raymond, after his maternal uncle, the Earl of Testalt? Another viable option.

Eventually, after many more suggestions and arguments, they all agreed upon the name I had suggested.

Thomas.

Papa had been a little embarrassed, but everyone else had been happy with it. After all, Papa was an admirable Duke, very much beloved and respected by the masses he ruled over. The Earl of Alençon, especially, felt that it would be good fortune if his nephew, the future Earl, also carried the same name.

But that was not why I had suggested it.

My reasons had been entirely selfish. I had wanted the baby to be named Thomas, in the hopes that he, who had fought against nature to be born, who had driven me to tears with his birth, would one day grow up to be just like the man whom I admired the most in my life - compassionate, resilient and wise.

My Papa. Thomas, for the man who loved, and inspired love.

It was almost dawn.

I sat upright now, startled out of my memories, as I focused on the window. The pitch-dark skies were just beginning to lighten. It was time to bring Tommy home, where he belonged, safe and sound.

Taking a deep breath, I cracked my knuckles. I was well aware that Lord Testalt and Nick were in the latter's chambers since the night before, no doubt intending to plan how to rescue Tommy from Rex's clutches.

Indeed, they had all but forbidden me from even leaving my bedchambers, saying it was too dangerous for me to go. Lord Testalt had even stayed by my bedside until he was convinced that I was asleep, assuring me all the while that he and Nick would take care of everything, that Tommy would be back in my arms tomorrow.

I was having none of it.

That parchment had said that Tommy could die if I brought anyone else to the woods. I had experienced Rex's insanity during the carriage accident last month, and I was not stupid to underestimate the threat he had made.

If he wanted only me, and no one else, to come, then that was what I would do. I would leave the plotting and scheming to later, after I brought Tommy out of his way.

I was not risking the child's life for anything.

Thus, I had mixed a sleeping draught in the two men's supper last night. If all went well, and they had had their supper after leaving me in my chambers, they should be fast asleep at least until midday – leaving me free to go and face Rex.

I rose to my feet now, and reached for my cloak and a small dagger I had sharpened the night before. Wrapping the cloak around my shoulders, I strode towards the doors, clasped my fingers around the cool brass handles, and tugged hard.

And again.

They would not open.

I sighed. It seemed Lord Testalt knew me better than I thought.

Unfortunately, as well as he knew me, he had clearly forgotten that my bedchambers were located on the second floor of the Manor.

My lips thinned into a grim line, as I approached the window.

***

It was bitterly cold. I wrapped my cloak tighter around myself, as I walked past the outskirts of the village, past the safety of civilisation, and towards Roche Woods.

The skies were slowly beginning to lighten, but darkness still surrounded me.

All throughout the walk, I wondered exactly what Rex's terms were. He would not demand that I merely dropped the petition, in exchange for Tommy. That was too easy, and I was certain he knew that I had no scruples in making false promises.

So what else did I have that he wanted?

As I drew near the woods, the first thing I noticed was smoke. Not thick, dense smog, but something much lighter; one that created an almost transparent screen, which made the trees behind it seem slightly blurry.

And it was all the more intimidating.

I took a deep breath. I can do this. I was ready to do anything, just about anything, to carry Tommy far and away from that man.

With that thought, I crossed the threshold into the woods, and followed the direction of the smoke. I pushed through the icicles, the snow and the foliage around me, until I reached a small clearing.

My eyes widened at the sight.

A huge fire was burning in the middle of the clearing, and the ground was freshly shovelled, and was completely clear of snow. Blood red drapes hung between and across all the trees surrounding the clearing to create an enormous tent of sorts. Flowers – my favourite blood red roses – were arranged in small, perfect bunches all around the clearing, and their rich fragrance permeated the warm, welcoming atmosphere.

It was beautiful, too beautiful. Chills ran down my spine. This looks awfully familiar -

It was then that my eyes found the large, make-shift bed erected some distance away from the fire. On it lay a little boy, curled up in comfort within its blankets, peacefully and blissfully asleep.

I started forward, my heart in my mouth. "Tommy – "

"Patience, Therese," a familiar voice drawled, "Thomas here will be your reward. You still have some work to do to earn him."

"Rex?" I frowned, looking around to see who had spoken.

For an answer, a greying man in his mid-fifties, his pale blue eyes cold and hard, walked out of the shadows yonder, his gait purposeful and confident.

Merde.

The world knew him as Lord Bertrand Brian De La Tours, the all-powerful former Earl Consort of Auvenge and second cousin to King Frederick V of Monrique.

I, however, had the brief misfortune of knowing him as Brian. He liked his middle name more than his first name, and insisted that I call him by it when we had been alone.

A façade of intimacy.

I gulped now, feeling truly afraid for the first time. Even the revelation of his identity did not disturb me as much as the fact that...this man was dressed in nothing but his nightclothes at the moment. One more look at the bed, and I knew what he wanted from me.

"Nay."

He broke into a bawdy smirk. "What can I say?" he crooned, "I have missed you so, very much. Oh, yes, very dearly..." He trailed off, his eyes wandering.

Burning humiliation spread within me, as his gaze shamelessly roamed my body, slowly taking in every curve, every contour, and lingering on my chest for far too long.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a deep hole, away from his gaze, and stay hidden for all eternity. I felt absolutely dirty, disgusting...despicable.

Just like eight years ago.

"My eyes are up here," I snapped.

He began to chuckle in amusement, glancing up at my countenance again. "You have only grown more desirable over the years. The Lord has seen fit to endow you well," his eyes darkened in anticipation, "we are going to have a wonderful time together, Therese. I am certain."

"I am not sleeping with you again. Our deal ended eight years ago," I growled, tensing, "what is the meaning of this?"

He released a sigh at that, as if I was proving to be too stupid for him to handle.

"It would have ended eight years ago, if you had not meddled in my affairs and crossed my path again," he levelled me with a chilling look, "helping my daughter steal my lands from me? Truly?"

I raised an eyebrow. "They are hers by right of her birth. You know it."

He scowled. "All you women are the same. Meddling in all sorts of things that are none of your concern," he shook his head, "governing has always been men's work, and always will be. God has made us that way. We are the only ones who have the minds for it."

A smirk spread across his face again, as he neared me. "Your job, on the other hand," he whispered, gripping my arms, "is to simply spread your legs whenever I want you to." His hands trailed deliberately up my forearm.

I did not hesitate. Jules had taught me a few things in these two years since we had become friends.

I swung my arms out from his hold in a clockwise direction, forced them behind his back, and pressed the dagger in my cloak against his throat – all before he could even blink.

However, he did not even try to struggle. "Men?"

Almost immediately, the bed in front of the fire was surrounded by five men, all pointing their swords dangerously close to Tommy's body. If one of them had a slippery hold on their weapons, he could get hurt.

My cheeks drained of all colour, and my heart almost stopped beating in my chest.

My baby -

"Release me, Therese," there was a dangerous edge to his voice, "you would not want anything to happen to little Thomas, would you? I would only have to say one word, and the boy would be dead."

I reluctantly stepped back from him, but still gripped the dagger, holding it in front of my body cautiously.

"What do you want?" I gritted my teeth.

He turned around to face me once more, dusting his hands. "In exchange for Thomas' release and continued safety," he tossed a careless glance at the bed, "you will become my mistress, starting from today. I will bring my belongings over to Roche Manor tomorrow, where I will live with you hereinforth."

His gaze was calculative, but also full of desire.

My lips parted in horror. Become his mistress? I had spent one night with him eight years ago, and that had been enough to -

I felt my head spin, and I tried to regain my control.

Even if I did force myself to agree to this arrangement for Tommy's sake, and grit my teeth through it, there was still the distinct chance that I could become pregnant -

His plan became clear to me in that moment.

The amount of fury that filled me in that moment made me see red. However, I had to only glance down to find those five men gently dragging their blades across Tommy's pale skin, almost like they were playing with my sanity.

I clenched my fists. All right, think calmly, Tess. The first thing I needed to do was to bring Tommy away from here.

Which would mean having to agree to Lord Bertrand's terms –

Not necessarily. Not in its entirety, that is.

Hmm.

A plan began to form in my mind. However, a part of it still involved my accedence - and that caused pure, unadulterated dread to trickle down my spine, dragging down my very soul.

There was no other way. I would be hurt and humiliated, as I was in the past. However, regardless of what happened to me today, that disgusting man would not touch Tommy ever again.

With that thought, I met his gaze fiercely. "I have one condition."

Lord Bertrand was amused. "You are not in any position to make conditions, my dear – "

"I do not want Tommy to see any of this. The day has broken, after all, and he will wake up soon," I cut him off quietly, "I want to bring the child home, and then I will return and do...whatever you want me to do."

He paused, considering it. Of course he would consider it. He was most likely thinking about how much ruckus Tommy would make when he woke up, and disturb him while he was busy in bed with me.

"All right, I will send him to Roche Manor with my men – "

"I do not trust your men, or you, for that matter. You have already abducted Tommy once," my eyes were blazing, "I will bring him home myself. You can send your men with me, if you doubt my intentions."

Lord Bertrand stared at me closely, trying to discern if I had any schemes up my sleeves. I did not let anything show on my countenance, and gazed straight at him.

I was good at this.

"The five of them will follow you to and back from Roche Manor. Another group of my men are already stationed outside your Manor, watching your every move," he relented, warning, "you have half an hour to return. If they find out you have been asking for help, or plotting something, they have been given full permission to murder little Thomas on sight and – "

"Nay, I will not," I promised at once.

He nodded, satisfied. He then waved a hand, and at once, his five men moved away from Tommy and surrounded me instead.

I hurried forward and knelt down on the bed, gathering Tommy into my arms before the codger could change his mind. My eyes welled with tears, as I held him tightly, feeling relief seep into every corner of my body.

My baby. He would be all right, always. I would make sure of it.

As I slowly rose to my feet, and turned away from the clearing, with the men trailing behind me, I heard Lord Bertrand address me again.

"When you reach home," he crooned, "leave the dagger, and change into something red. It suits you."

                                                                                        ****

"I would like to remind you that we will be right here," one of the men remarked, expressionless, "please return soon."

I nodded. They had agreed to wait outside the chambers instead of following me in, because I had told them that I wanted to change into something red, just as Lord Bertrand had requested of me.

What they did not know, however, was I had led them to the guest chambers that Nick and Lord Testalt were currently sleeping in, instead of my own chambers.

Inclining my head at them now, I was careful not to open the doors too wide, as I stepped into the chambers. The moment I closed and locked the doors behind me, I released a silent, staggering breath, tightening my grip on the sleeping Tommy in my arms.

I looked around. The windows were open. If I stared hard enough, I could see shadows of men who were not my Corporals, flitting in and out of the scenery, circling the perimeters in secrecy, watching.

Merde. On instinct, I crouched on the ground, such that I was not visible from outside.

Chewing on my lower lip, I thought hard. It took me ten minutes to walk to the Manor, and would take another ten minutes to return to the woods.

Which meant that I had only ten minutes to accomplish what I had to.

Clutching Tommy, I crawled towards the huge bed in the middle of the room. Lord Testalt was sprawled on it, his hands clutching the blankets tightly around him. He was occupying the whole bed, fast asleep on his tummy as I had expected him to be.

Nick, on the other hand, was curled into a ball on the floor, snoring, and shivering with the cold.

Lord Testalt must have kicked him off the bed. It would have been an amusing sight, if I had been in the mood to appreciate the humour.

I lay Tommy on one corner of the bed, gently, before I crawled over to the other side. I dragged Lord Testalt's legs together, and pushed him over such that he lay on his back instead, gritting my teeth with the amount of strength I had to use.

Lord, what did the man eat every day?

Next, I shifted Tommy such that his head was resting on a pillow, and pulled Lord Testalt's blankets off him to wrap the child with them.

Lord Testalt stirred, but he did not wake up. The sleeping draught was still effective, then.

Biting back a sigh, I lifted his arm, and pinched a small portion of the sensitive skin on the underside of his upper arm, digging my nails none too gently.

His forehead merely creased in response.

A few moments later, his eyelids tried to lift, struggling under the weight of his lashes, and his baby blue orbs darted about to slowly focus down on my face.

He blinked in recognition.

Swiftly, I placed my fingers on his lips in warning, even before they could attempt to form my name, and shook my head. I then pointed to Tommy next to him.

His head rolled around, with much effort, and he stared at his nephew. He blinked. He blinked slowly and repeatedly, unable to think straight, unable to focus, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Leaning towards his ear, I placed a hand against his cheek and gently turned him towards me again.

"It will take at least another fifteen minutes for the effect of the sleeping draught to wear off completely," I hardly dared to breathe, "I am sorry I put you to sleep, Ned, but I had to. I could not risk Tommy's life."

His lips tried to move again, but I covered his mouth with my hand. Glancing up at the door, I checked if the men outside had heard anything.

I heard no noise. All was well.

"I do not have much time," I kept my voice as low as I possible could, "as soon as you are fully awake, I need you to entrust Tommy to Clara and lock them both in this chamber. Then gather a group of Corporals, ride down to Roche Woods and find me. Do you understand? Can you remember what I am telling you?"

I raised myself slightly to gaze into his baby blue eyes, urgent and desperate.

He blinked at me once, deliberately, to show me he understood.

"There are a few men lurking around the Manor. The moment they see you leading a rescue group, they will barge in and try to kill Tommy," I added quietly, "thus, you need to station another group of Corporals outside this chamber to protect Clara and Tommy. Can you do that?"

He blinked again, groggy and helpless.

"Now continue trying to wake up and please find me soon," I allowed him see the true extent of my fears, "you had once told me never to hesitate in asking you for help, and now I am begging you, Ned. Please."

His baby blue eyes tried to hold my gaze, as his lips gently pressed into my palm.

Closing my eyes, I rested my forehead against his cheek for a few moments, feeling tears stick to the back of my eyelids. I composed myself as best as I could, before I took a deep breath and stood up.

With purposeful strides, I walked over to the cupboard, where I had stored some of my old, worn gowns. I grabbed a dusty, random red gown, and proceeded into the bathing chamber to change.

It was time.

***

When I walked into the clearing once more, as slowly as I could without raising suspicion, with Lord Bertrand's five men in tow behind me, I noticed a few changes to the setting.

For one, there were more red roses in the clearing. They were clogging and overpowering the atmosphere with their sweet smell, and some of their petals decorated the white bed. It seemed Lord Bertrand had kept busy while I was away.

I pursed my lips together. I felt numb, nauseous, even. I knew I would always remember this day as the day I began to well and truly hate red roses – if I survived.

In the meanwhile, Lord Bertrand was seated on the bed, quietly watching the flames, lost in his own thoughts. He was still dressed in his nightclothes. Now that daybreak had crossed, I was able to see much clearer - and Lord, my eyes - his nightclothes were indecently translucent.

"Ah, Therese!" he looked up when he heard me approaching, breaking into a salacious grin, "I am so glad you could join me."

As if I had any choice in the matter.

"Men, leave us be," he waved a hand, "and keep watch."

They nodded, and moved back from us. They still remained in the clearing, but they turned their backs to face the woods instead.

My uneasiness increased a thousand-fold, and I willed myself to stand straight and keep my wits together. Lord Bertrand leaned against the pillows and simply watched me, a satisfied smirk playing about his lips.

Bastard.

"Do you recognise these decorations, Therese?" he started a conversation, calmly, lazily.

I did. Eight years ago, I had first met him at a ball hosted by Lady Chevalier, and the theme of the celebration had been romantic love. All the decorations had been red, and everyone had been dressed in red. I had approached him that evening to help me gain an invite to the Royal Autumn Soiree, since he was the King's second cousin, and had much influence at the royal court.

However, he had wanted something in return.

He had wanted my body.

I did not want to do it, but my mother insisted – nay, threatened. She had agreed to personally keep watch outside, while he had bedded me that night, greedily, violently, in Lady Chevalier's own bedchambers.

It had been my first time. I had only been sixteen then, and he, a married man with an eight-year old daughter. I had stumbled out of those chambers in the morning, hurting all over and absolutely nauseous -

I did not want to remember.

"Nay, my Lord," I shrugged nonchalantly now, "should I?"

"Brian," he corrected me at once, "call me Brian."

I bit my lip. "Brian."

"Good. Now let me show you what you cannot remember," he whispered, and patted the spot next to him, "and you will never forget hereinforth." His blue eyes glittered.

Dread and fear – so much fear - consumed me, and I froze on the spot.

Ned, please come soon -

Lord Bertrand raised an eyebrow, waiting. "Second thoughts, Therese? Do not forget, I can still order my men to go to your Manor and have Thomas killed."

Closing my eyes, I dug my nails into my palm. Tommy has to live. He has to remain safe, and grow up into a fine young man. He has a good, long life ahead of him, and his future must not be blighted because of me.

With that thought, I bent down, and forced myself to sit next to him on the bed.

I know I am doing this for Tommy, but Ned, please come soon -

Lord Bertrand raised a hand to pull out the pins that were holding my hair in a bun, until all my golden tresses tumbled over my shoulders. He threaded his fingers into my hair, and leaned forward to breathe them in deeply.

I remained still, trying hard not to shudder in disgust, even as his fingers wandered along the course of my neck, my collarbone, and plunged further down, leaving behind a trail of filth everywhere –

Ned, please come soon -

Without warning, he pounced on me, pushing me by the shoulders to the bed. A sharp breath left my lips in horror, as my eyes grew wide.

On instinct, I began to struggle against his hold.

Ned, please come -

"Do you want Thomas to live or nay?" he glared down at me, "stop struggling."

And so I did. At once.

Clearly aroused by my acquiescence, he smashed his blubbery lips against my own, and forced his tongue into my mouth. He sucked and he slobbered, as if he were trying to eat my face. His mouth then dragged along my cheeks, my ears, my neck.

Red-hot shame, burning as red as the drapes above my head -

Ned, please -

I could not move an inch. His hands ripped out my cloak from my shoulders, and then pushed my gown off them, down my hips, until they pooled in a puddle of red against the white sheets at my legs. He then threw it to the flames.

My vision blurred. Dirty, disgusting, despicable -

Ned please -

His greedy fingers crept beneath my chemise. They poked, and they prodded. They grabbed, squeezed, kneaded every bit of flesh they could find. His lips, slippery, sticky, followed his fingers, sucking, nipping, biting –

Ned -

There was pain. All that he touched stung, and everywhere else felt absolutely dirty -

Darkness -

The voice in my mind died. A single tear leaked out of my eyes.

He hurriedly wriggled out of his nightclothes. He was trying to push my chemise up my knees, but one of its threads got caught onto a ring on his finger, and he could not –

Suddenly, the loud thunder of hooves resonated throughout the forest. The sharp, precise sounds of swords cutting through flesh pierced the air. Men on their horses barged into the clearing without warning.

Lord Bertrand was dragged off me the very next moment.

I blinked away my tears to see clearer. I vaguely recognised the newcomers as Corporals. There were so many people crowding around us in the clearing. So many people. Talking, shouting, ordering - 

"Oh, God, wear this," one of the Corporals tossed his cloak at Lord Bertrand, scowling, "my eyes are burning."

"What are you doing?" Lord Bertrand blustered, red in the face, "release me at once – "

"Fer the love of God, shut yer trap," his colleague growled and aimed a kick in his side, "'tis too early in the morrow, and I ain't in the mood fer yer nonsense."

I gently raised myself off the bed, disoriented, and sat upright, hugging my knees to my chest. It was so cold. I was relieved to have at least my chemise on. Leaning my cheek against my knees, I watched Lord Bertrand and all his men being restrained and tied up tightly with rope by the Corporals.

"I am the second cousin of His Majesty the King of Monrique – "

"Well, His Majesty will be right ashamed of ya when he hears of this," another General spat in disgust at him, "how dare ya even touch our Duchess?"

"Listen to me – the Duchess wanted to do it! She brought me here – "

Another Corporal punched him in the nose before he could even start. "Nice try, codger," he snarled, "but all your men have already confessed to your scheming. You are coming to Roche Dungeons with us."

Thank God. I was so tired.

I watched, numb and cold, as Lord Bertrand continued to yell, curse and threaten the Corporals, kicking and struggling for all it was worth, as they dragged him out of the clearing none too gently.

He was going to Roche Dungeons, and tomorrow, I was certain he would stand trial at Court – for Tommy's abduction, and for his attempt to blackmail me for sex, which was legally considered rape in Monrique.

My lips thinned into a vicious, vindictive line.

As Lord Bertrand had committed these offences in Roche, he would stand trial at the Court of the Lady Justice in Roche. A Court that was under my jurisdiction.

The punishment for abduction in Monrique was a heavy fine, and a few hours' worth of whipping. The punishment for rape, however, was first castration, followed by disembowelment and then a public hanging.

The law would take care of him for me, and I will make sure I watch his execution.

At that moment, someone dropped to their knees in front of me, their sword, dripping with blood, clanging loudly to the ground. Startled out of my thoughts, I sucked in a sharp breath, ready to run away if necessary, before I realised who it was.

Ned.

His countenance was deathly white, and – Lord, was he crying? His baby blue eyes were wide and haunted, laden with tears. He quickly took off his own shirt, tugged it over my head, and wrapped his cloak around me.

Fear struck my heart. Why was he crying?

"I-Is Tommy all right?" I was anxious, coughing.

"Aye, he is safe and well. He is with Clara, and all your Corporals," Lord Testalt assured me quietly, "we have caught those men skulking around the Manor, and every last one of them are headed for the dungeons. It is over, Tess. It is over." He still would not look at me in the eye.

I reached out to trace his tear tracks. "Then why are you crying?"

He raised his head at my touch, shaking with raw grief. "Because you are not all right," his voice shattered into a thousand shards, "damn it, Tess, I should have – "

I shook my head, placing a hand over his mouth to stop him from blaming himself. It is over, Ned. It is over.

"Thank you for coming when you did," I remarked softly.

He removed my hand from his mouth, and cradled it in his with great care. "You went through...all of this...for Tommy."

I swallowed, feeling a lump in my throat when the emotion in his voice resonated within me. "He means everything to me," I murmured, "and there is nothing in this world that I would not do for him."

Lord Testalt gazed at me in silence, his eyes glassy.

Exhaustion washed over me in that moment. "May I ask one more favour of you?"

"Anything," he vowed.

"Could you bring me home? Please?" I whispered brokenly, "I want to go home."

Lord Testalt nodded. He gently lifted me up into his arms, as if I were a poppet made of glass. I leaned my head against the warmth of his chest, careful, hesitant, and allowed myself to close my eyes and relax.

You are safe now. 

I knew well that the aftermath of this morning – the fears, the horrific nightmares - would kick in with a vengeance later, when I was all alone in my chambers. For now, at least, in his arms, the darkness behind my closed eyelids remained thankfully empty.

He rose to his feet, and strode swiftly out of the woods.

                                                                                              ****