“How many times do I have to tell you to let go of me?!” She screams sharply, tugging and pulling violently against the secured fist gripped around her delicate wrists that were leaving ugly, purple bruises and cuts on her colorless skin. “Joohyun, you are in no position to speak like that to me? Have you forgotten your place? I am your only husband and the head of this household! You would be nothing without me and you do not forget your place!” A robust, bearded middle aged man barks vigorously at his much younger wife and slams her against the pointed corners of the jaded table. She whimpers in agony, feeling the penetrating rim poke her lower back, and she thumps ungracefully against the ash flooring of the master bedroom of the …show more content…
A gaunt, scrawny copper and silver haired old lady comes running up the staircase eagerly looking for her, and Joohyun almost sighs in relief when she sees it is only one of her servants, Hweya, whose family had been serving the Bae household for generations and generations before her. Almost. “Pardon to disturb you, Lady Bae, as it is very late in the evening, but Lord Jung Hoseok insists to see you. Instantly. He says it is very confidential and that you need to be spoken to as soon as possible.” Hweya trembles as the stinging breeze perpetrates brutally against her brittle frame, yet she still remains dignified in delivering a confidential message to her lady. She has seen Joohyun’s husband Woohyun wane and grow up, and will remain loyal to her dying breath to this family. Even Joohyun. “Lord Jung? Why then- Let him in and let him rest in our drawing room with warm, chamomile tea and the best loaves of butter bread we can serve him.” Lady Bae clears her throat as she quickly nods at her servant before promenading her way by the ledge of the sprawling staircase, looking down at the well furnished living room below her. “Of course, Lady Bae.” Hweya bows respectfully at her lady, before briskly stomping down the wooden steps and forwarding orders to other servants, butlers, guards and assistants in the manor. The padlocked, ferrous metal gate in the front
attitude of matchless grace and dignity. Ah how beautiful she is! He springs forward with
She places her hand on his shoulder as her sharp thumbnail sticks into his knife wound.
“You don’t need to call me sir. If you go to the end of the carriage, there should be one. You’d better change into your robes. We’ll be arriving soon,” the giant said, looking out of the window at the countryside view.
He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her towards his body as I grab the rag from Cayden. I hated this. She looks so scared. This is for the best thugh, she’ll realize how much better thi id going to make her life. I softly place the rag over her small nose and mouth. Her chest stills as she holds in her breath, looking at me with pleading eyes. I slip a hand onto her stomach. She’s so skinny it can’t be healthy. My hand is probably freezing since she instantly gasp, inhaling the fumes. Her brown eyes cloud over slightly.
“Hey, slow down. You’re ok. Here, let me help you.” Pulling her back down to the chaise he zips her dress as she fights to get back up.
He kicks her again the sound of bones cracking echoes through the forest as blood seeps through her gritted teeth. She glances over to where her baby once was “My bab- “is all she could get out before she was kicked again.
"Help!" She screams at me, "Help me! Please do something." She begs, clutching at her arm. I shake my head in dismal.
"Your majesty?" Her back straightened, eyes wide and glassy as she breathed in and out shallowly.
Jackson hands over our coats, still looking down his nose at us, clearly not amused at our torturous entertainment at his madam's expense. He seems exuberant to open the door for us and hurries us outside as he slams the door shut, thus concluding 'The Royal Visit'.
“Your Grace is indeed gracious,” she said in a low voice. “Have I your permission to retire?”
“As I said, Monsieur, the Master was not answering the door, so Madame la Baronne, asked me to go ask for your help.”
“ Well we are at war if we don’t make peace so, it’s reasonable, sir your greatness” the servant bowed her head trying not to look at him because you can’t look at him directly or he’ll throw you in a dungeon
“My lord, are you unwell?” Lillian said loudly. A footman came to assist Lord Brightly to a chair.
The embers in the fire-pit glowed in Asmund’s deep, brown eyes. He stared into the flames as a calm aura washed across him; he knew they were coming for him. Yet the seasoned warrior’s heart knew no fear, only honour. Either victory or Valhalla awaited him and both promised glory.