The morning sun brought no warmth to me, only the harsh exposure of daylight that penetrated through the cracks of my shack far away from the town so they won't find where I live.
Else, to sleep in my own place would become an upheaval. I won't be able to sleep without fear.
Amid my poverty, each bite of the rich meat Lord Kaldric had thrown was gratitude and a reminder of the first man who had looked at me with such profound loathing.
I was used to receiving lustful looks and somehow, to gain something else felt… relieving.
Smiling to myself, I tucked the remaining ration under my torn mattress. It was a treasure. I must keep it safe.
After my meal, I was trying to slip toward the well for water when a hand caught the back of my already worn off kirtle, yanking me into the narrow gap between two cottages.
"So, the beggar has found a new way to beg," A voice hissed. It was that baker's daughter, Martha, flanked by two other local women.
Martha's face was twisted with a venomous jealousy.
"We saw you, Ardelle. Creeping around the stables. We saw the Lord. Are you finally putting this body to good use to please him?"
"I did nothing," I whispered, my voice cracking, "He only-"
Slap.
The blow was so sudden and hard that my head hit the timber wall. My vision blurred as Martha hit my face again, digging her nails lacerating my skin.
"A girl like you shouldn't have eyes that color. Or skin that is soft. You are an eyesore. You don't deserve to exist, Ardelle."
Martha struck me again, until I ended up whimpering from pain with a trail of blood running from my nose.
In order to save myself, I barely managed to push her away and started sprinting towards the town to mix in the crowd and disappear.
"Come back! You can't run. We are not going to let you lure the Lords with this cursed face!" Martha snarled, rushing after me.
Terrified, my mind in a state of blurriness, my body throbbing in pain, I scrambled away. I ran blindly, ignoring the tingling sensation on my bare feet or the frantic heartbeats.
I turned a sharp corner to check if Martha was still in sight, stumbling over my own feet—
And slammed directly into a wall of solid steel.
A gloved hand caught me by the shoulder, not to keep me steady, but to keep me from toppling him. Groaning at the hit from the steel, my gaze lifted only to find that solid was none other than Lord Kaldric.
My strength flushed from my body, eyes widening in appalled as his warning echoed in my ears. I doubt I could get away this time.
Lord Kaldric looked down, his brow furrowed in immediate displeasure. He was on a formal patrol in his immaculate form, a contrast to the trembling wreck who had just collided with him.
"You again," he hissed, his tone was low, warning, "I believe I gave you an order last night, woman."
My eyes wide, brimming with fresh tears that clenched his jaw. My hair was a mess, and the bruise on my cheek was already blooming into a dark, ugly purple.
Lord Kaldric's gaze sharpened on the trail of blood from the nose and corner of my mouth. Instead of pity, a frown emerged on his stoic features.
"Bruised and weeping."
He reached out, his leather-clad index finger under my chin, tilting my head back with coldness, smearing the blood on my face with his thumb roughly.
"You are a walking testament to fragility, aren't you? Can you not even walk a street without being broken by the wind?"
"My Lord, please..." I whimpered, trying to shrink away from his touch but it was painfully firm.
"Stay still," he commanded, his stone-hearted eyes judging me thoroughly. The more he observed me, the more his revulsion increased.
"It is pathetic. You let yourself crumble under a commoner's hand. No endurance. You are a waste of breath."
"There she is!" Martha's voice shrilled through the air.
The group of women rounded the corner, but they stopped dead when they saw me with the Commander of the Obsidian Pillars.
In an instant, their faces shifted from murderous rage to practiced, fluttering charms. Martha smoothed her apron and lowered her eyes, stepping forward with an air of mock concern.
"Oh, My Lord! You've found her," Martha faked a honeyed tone.
"We apologize for the disturbance. That girl... she is a menace. A con artist who uses that face of hers to lure honest men into traps." They lied.
Lord Kaldric let go of my chin. And I was too frightened to unshackle my tongue and defend myself. He turned his icy gaze toward the women.
"Is that so?"
"Yes, My Lord," Another woman chimed in, moving closer to Kaldric, tilting her head to show her neck.
"She fakes her tears to get coin and sympathy from men around here. She's a liar, My Lord. She's been nothing but trouble since the day she crawled into this town."
Shame built in my body where my leftover dignity was being defiled by them. All I could do was stare with tears, gripping onto my kirtle painfully.
Lord Kaldric turned back to me. The disgust in his eyes was now doubled.
He didn't care if they were lying or not. He only saw a creature that invited chaos and displayed nothing but weakness. The very thing he dismantled his own troop for.
"Indeed an eyesore." Lord Kaldric muttered, his glare pinning me to the spot. "Using beauty as a weapon because you have no soul of your own."
I felt the world tilting. The women were smirking behind him, and the man I thought might be my protector- even a heartless one- looked at me as if I were filth on his boot.
The degradation was too much. Without a word of defense, I turned and ran. I ignored the laughter of the women and the heavy, silent judgment of the knight.
I ran until my lungs burned, diving into the dark, cramped cellar of an abandoned tannery, curling into a ball in the shadows to let the darkness swallow me whole.
Because I doubt after recent events, I will be able to look at my own reflection without being… disgusted with my own self.
The darkness of the abandoned tannery smelled of rot and damp earth, but to me, it was the only sanctuary left.
The only place where I could conceal myself from the town. I sat huddled in the corner, my fingers digging into my scalp as I wept.
Cursing my fate, my life, everything about me.
In this world only the powerful had the fight to raise their voice and hands. If I dared to do it, I'd be gobbled by the fierce intensity of it.
But, people of his status wouldn't understand that.
"Why?" I whispered into the void, "Why was I born with this face if it only brings me pain? Why couldn't I just disappear?"
If I wasn't beautiful, they wouldn't have humiliated me. They wouldn't have assassinated the only respect I had left in front of him. I would have become the shadow I always dreamt of becoming.
I hated my skin; I hated my hair. Most of all, I hated the way I had looked at the Lord, hoping for a shred of humanity which was stolen by Martha.
As I was cursing myself, the creak of the cellar door shattered my grief.
"See? I told you she would hide in the dark like a rat."
Through the tears and sorrow, my gaze lifted only to find three men. I recognize them, they stand near the bridge, touch me inappropriately whenever they gain the chance.
Their breath thick with the smell of cheap ale and malice but with complete content when they finally found me cornered, and alone.
"The Commander is done with you, Ardelle," the lead man sneered, unbuckling his belt.
"And the women want you gone. We figured we would give you a proper send-off before we kick you out of the gates." One of them laughed, approaching me with malevolent intentions.
My nails digging at the dirt as I crawled back, my gaze frantically searching for something to protect myself with but there was none.
"Please... stay back. I have nothing!" I screamed, putting my hands up defensively that wasn't nearly enough to stop them.
"You have exactly what we want," another grunted, hovering over me.
Without a warning, they lunged. I screamed, a thin, piercing sound that was muffled by a heavy hand over my mouth. The pressure of their bodies was crushing me.
I fought, endeavouring to deal some damage to push them away or gain a slight chance to escape.
But, when my nails scratched, my fragile strength was nothing against them. I saw a narrow way and tried to crawl my way away only to get my ankle being grabbed.
"HELP! SOMEBODY! HELP ME!"
With a violent jerk, they tore my kirtle, leaving me exposed to those disgusting pigs. The fabric gave way with a sickening rip, tearing a thundering wailing from my lips.
"Stop it! Leave me!!"
I was stripped bare, my skin gleaming in the gloom, pleasing them too much. They laughed, eyes staring at me in mesmerization, they got the sight they were imagining about for months.
Just as the man threw his weight upon me, pinning my bruised wrist on the floor, the cellar door exploded off its hinges.
Lord Kaldric emerged, a silhouette of pure, vengeful shadow that dominated the very air. He moved with a swift speed, kicking one of them off from me.
I screamed, shifting back to the darkness, pressing myself in the cold corner watching the Lord grab one of them by the throat, hitting him with a force enough to dislocate the jaw.
He didn't use his sword, he used his gauntlets. A kick sent the second flying into the stone wall with a crack of ribs. The third man scrambled back, yelping in terror as Lord Kaldric gripped him by the throat, lifting him off the ground.
"Get out," Lord Kaldric hissed with a primal rage that made me shiver. "Before I decide your lives are worth less than the dirt you stand on."
The men scrambled out, stumbling over each other in a frantic retreat as I watched him protecting me.
Silence rushed back into the cellar, heavy and suffocating. Only the resonance of my unstable breaths filled the air. My body no longer has the strength to rise from the ground.
Lord Kaldric turned, his breathing steady, the discontent etched until his eyes scanned the floor and found me completely naked in the corner.
He stopped.
I was curled into a ball, trying to cover myself with my trembling hand. Lord Kaldric's eyes, usually so disciplined, involuntarily swept over the curves of my waist and the porcelain glow of my untouched skin.
He… thoroughly studies my body. Every. Inch. Realizing the rumors was a blinding reality.
His hand twitched.
My body involuntarily flinched as I screamed, "Mercy, My Lord!"
Disgusted by his own momentary lapse and my shivering form, he regained his two-second loss of control and unfastened his heavy crimson cloak.
I was about to crawl away but he draped me in his crimson cloak, covering my body, his hand accidentally brushing against my shoulder, hitching my breaths.
Left frozen, my fretful gaze lifted, greeting his inscrutable one. Back to the stone-cold and indifferent one that had nothing but disgust in them.
"Cover yourself," he commanded, pulling his hand back that touched me, curling it in a powerless fist.
He looked away, his jaw tight.
"This is what happens to those who cannot protect themselves. You become a lure for filth," He hissed, rising from the ground.
"You are a burden to the very air you breathe, Woman."
Clutching the cloak to my body, horror-stricken by the trauma, I shook my head, "No, My Lord... I didn't... I didn't want this..."
"It does not matter what you want!" he roared, turning back to me with a terrifying glare. "Weakness invites–"
"HELP! MURDER!"
A shout erupted from the street above. One of the men who had fled was screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice carrying toward the manor where the King resided.
"The Knight! The King's Knight is attacking the townspeople! He's gone mad! Help us!"
Lord Kaldric froze. The man wasn't mentioning me or the attempted assault. He was claiming the Obsidian Pillar was slaughtering the locals.
Within seconds, the sound of boots and shouting townspeople filled the air. Torches began to flicker outside.
"Lord Kaldric!" A booming voice called out, the King's herald. "By His Majesty's order, show yourself!"
Lord Kaldric looked at the cellar door, then back to me shivering in his cloak. If he walked out alone, the town would riot.
If he walked out with a naked, bruised woman under his cloak, the scandal would be a stain the Crown could not ignore.
Lord realized, with a sinking feeling in his gut, that he was trapped.
His mercy had come weighing down on him.