Tylorie was left by herself all that day. No food, no water, just silence.

She spent her entire day thinking of different methods in which she would deal with the infuriating man.

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Her hair would have to go anyways, so the man thought it a great idea to give her a chance to make it her own decision.

If she were to be seen in public again, her hair would have to be shorter, enough so, that she would not be recognized.

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There were no windows in the room, so she couldn't tell the time of day, but by how tired she was, she knew it was late.

She heard a door open, she couldn't see it, for the corners of the room were shrouded in darkness.

"Have you decided if you want to be cut down yet?" She heard he assured voice of the despicable man.

"Yes I have, you recreant man. My hair will remain...."

But right at that moment her hair had been released from it's hold on the beam.

He had opened the door to the top of the beam, and had walked across it to where her hair was tied. And the second she had said "yes" he cut her hair there.

She landed with an "oomf"

It took a moment for reality to set in. But when it did, she couldn't stop the sobs that racked her body, nor her increasing hate for this man.

She had told herself she wouldn't show her weakness to him, that she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Angrily, she swept the tears from her face, glaring as best she knew how, up at the man. But she couldn't stop them for long, and the sobs continued.

He felt uncomfortable with her tears, and the took the act of indifference to help him cope.

It was just some silly girls hair, what did it matter?

Nothing, it didn't matter at all.

Then why did he feel sorry?

Dallen was a ruthless criminal, an escapee of a horrible Russian prison, a common girl's tears were the least of his troubles.