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The Sublime Overlord of the Realm
The thinly veiled threat was easy to read. Her eyes widened as she found herself looking at his back as he turned to the door, leaving her in incredulity. She wasn't about to call him back as she found the door shut upon her. His matter of fact approach left her little room to finagle a peaceable deal with her still in place in the bed and him long gone. By Randatis' hailstones... What have I gotten myself into now? Exhaling suddenly and allowing herself to slump back into the embrace of the bed within the confines of the empty room, the beguiling predicament appeared more dire than she thought. Most people would take a no and leave. This Rayond heard a no and then started name-calling, received another fervent no and then issued a threat. Een weighed it in her mind. He is bluffing. He has to be bluffing. He would not kill all these people just because... If I resist, surely he would just... Rhyn and Mistress Deakins and perhaps Mister Clearwater, those three might stand against him, but... Based on conjecture, Rayond had a few men at arms at his command at least, all being stationed somewhere within the inn. Should there be resistance to his removing her, even if it was only due to Een herself making a sound against her own kidnapping, then he would cut down those that stood in his way or so seemed his way. The man's dull brown eyes found a way into her mind again. No life resided in eyes such as his, only a line drawn in the proverbial sand. There would be blood and there would be no way to stop it should it happen. Like a landslide, pebbles would beget falling boulders to crush and bury the things that stood in the way. A man like him would not bluff in such a way.

She scrunched her eyes tightly shut to block the fearful tears that threatened to flow. I will be one woman amidst violent men. Shuddering at the thought, her eyes opened upon the world again, dry. I must be strong for them who fail to realize my strength and the protection that only I can give to them. I cannot allow them to sacrifice themselves for my sake alone when they would ultimately be throwing their lives away in vain.

Thump. Thump. Thump. His feet lit upon the stairs, theirs a music that belonged to the executioner on the prisoner's death day or that of the thief, the murderer, or the rapist. Panic flooded her again. Her pulse fluttered like an imprisoned bird with the cat stalking its cage. Oh for a pair of wings and an embracing sky! Fists clenching in the woolen blankets atop her, the longing to attack him like a hellcat, headfirst, claws for the eyes and throat. Een took a breath as the footsteps stopped, smoothing out her finger joints one by one. I must not let fear conquer me. I will live. I will survive. And I will find a way to escape him when that time comes. There may be high walls and armies to the place I will be heading to, but a woman can get lost in a place like that. A traitor part of her mind took a turn. Lost in more ways than one. Rayond might have her killed just as easily. He made Brown seem less like the bastard of the family, it seemed.

The door knob turned and the entire wooden contraption snicked open, revealing the tyrant, her captor and nemesis. Strands of his dark hair shadowed his face where they had fallen, enhancing the dark spill across the left side of his face. He is a beast and I have... no choice. Een hoped that he would fail to sense the fear that gnawed at her guts even as her eyes, now hesitant, found those of the man that now seemed to control her immediate destiny. Her already pale skin already concealed the pallor of her fear. Her normally limber body was stiff in wrist and neck. It seemed a miracle when she found her voice and spoke without a tremor in her words nor any tears. I will need you to pack up my things. They are there. The bard's stiff-wristed hand stretched out to indicate the small spill of things near the fireplace, her musical instruments, her boots and cloak, and the rest of her pack. I will need many thick blankets if I am to be in a cart and stay warm enough not to have the frostbite worsen on my feet. If you do not have blankets already, I ask that you pay the man who owns the inn generously for the ones he would most likely have available to sell to you. But please be careful with my instruments. There was little choice in how she would be able to get down the stairs. Once her bag was packed and her cloak and boots affixed, Rayond would have to carry her and she, being thin and taller, would have to place her arms around him to have a secure seat in his arms. That prospect was very unappealing, but it seemed it would have to be necessary. The only thing she could be thankful for was the fact that her hair still smelled clean, like lavender from the soap she loved the best, even as the silvery fall danced about her shoulders in rippling waves.
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Frostbitten · Hiskarin Mountains

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