What terrible taste...

That was the first impression I had when the friendly carriage-for-driver pointed at the building the note in my hand referred to. Although the man assured me that that was indeed the place, I couldn't help but think that something had gone horribly wrong. Had the Duke lost his interest in me or had his interest become darker?

"Will you come back here in an hour to take me back to Damaran House?"

I offered him his price and he pulled away in his carriage, and I started at the building in front of me. It seemed to be the only standing structure n the area, with just everything else nearby being either run to ground or non-existent.

When the note arrived from the Duke, I checked the seal first, because what was written seemed to be a bit outrageous. A rendezvous. I have a surprise for you. Followed by an address indicated in the direction opposite the Palace Complex - towards the more- well, shadier areas of Orira. However, I had not expected the address to lead to a building that could barely be called a building, much less a mansion or a cafe or a fancy restaurant.

It was a run-down place, closer to the docks, with the smell of fish lingering in the air. The wood was rotting or had rotted away, leaving a barely standing structure that struggled to stand against the evening sky. I was luckily wearing my drab clothes, and unafraid of the decay and dust piled myself up the rickety stairs.

This was probably a bad idea.

I knocked on the door, only for it to open as plumes of dust rolled up into the air. Holding my fan to my nose I pushed it open wider as my eyes strained against the darkness. "Your Grace?"

It wouldn't take a scholar to see that the Duke of Lurris was not hanging around a shady hovel. I sighed and turned around, preparing myself to wait an hour for the carriage driver to come around. But I must have miscalculated because in an instant, heavy hands grappled me by my arms and I shrieked as someone clamped a hand at my face. I struggled against the force, trying to claw my hands away, but something struc my ribs and my knees buckled.

"Tie her arms! ARMS!"

As I was dragged and shoved to the dusty floor that swept up my nose, I couldn't help but notice that the voice belonged to a woman, and soon enough, after the heavy-handed one had tied my wrists painfully to my back while the other one had stuffed a piece of cloth into my mouth, they lit a lantern and held it up to my face.

There were two of them, my assailants.

One a woman so shockingly beautiful she looked like an artist's dream, with features that glowed in the lantern light, her blonde hair wound over her head in curls that glowed against her exquisite purple dress. The other was a tall and stocky man dressed in white robes with a shaved head that drew attention away from his handsome face. A priest.

And quite possibly, they were both idiots.

The woman smiled at me sweetly and spread my fan, which I had dropped, over her face, "You're not pretty,"

I had never in my life seen this woman before, but I had a fair idea of who she was. So I continued to just stare at her, ignoring the dust getting into my eyes that were stinging.

"Well will you do the honors or I?" the priest asked looking at the lady. I heard a clink and he drew out from the darkness, a dagger. I struggled against the ropes and tears began to form in my eyes - because of the heavy dust surrounding me.

"No, no," Lady Fughal said. "You just need to disfigure her so that the Duke will break off his engagement,"

"It will be easier to kill her,"

I did not like the glint in his eyes. Men could always be trusted with needless cruelty - even priests.

"We just need to," Lady Alma Fughal paused, "mess her clothes and scar her face, so her honor is lost. We don't need to kill her. We agreed to this!"

The priest shook his head.

My heart began to hammer in my chest.

I wasn't aware of how much time passed as they argued over what needed to be done with me. Sweat poured down my neck and my eyes began to grow heavy. Slight tremors wrecked my body as I shivered quietly struggling against ropes. The ropes they bound me with were thick and the only sharp object seemed to be the dagger in the priest's hands.

"Listen!" the priest snapped, raising his voice, "She has seen our faces, we need to kill her!"

"But no one will believe her!" Lady Alma protested, "And she doesn't know who I am!" She shot a quiet glare at me and whispered something quietly to him. I strained my ears to hear them, but I couldn't - just vague forms of words that made no sense to me.

I blinked trying to get the dust off, and tears sprang forth like a fountain. I quietly wept.

But my brain was heavily drowning in thoughts. I wondered why Lady Alma wanted the Duke to break off his engagement with me if she was in love with this priest. And it was not likely that the Duke would marry her alone if not me.

The priest finally raised clutched his dagger tighter and brought it close to my face.

He seemed to be upset and he grabbed my chin turning my face up.

I silently pleaded to him with my eyes and I gasped for breath.

And then, it felt as if The Unending One intervened.

The door stormed open and the flat of the blade hit my cheek as my assailants whirled around. I gasped for breath as the priest tried to hold the dagger to my neck as a hostage, but soon my assailants screamed into oblivion as they were overwhelmed by strangers. My eyes were blurry with my tears and I had no way of knowing who my rescuers were other than praying they were not worse than Lady Fughal and her lover. Someone untied my arms and removed the cloth from my mouth. I breathed and accidentally took in a huge amount of dust that triggered incessant coughing and I was carefully led outside.

"Can you walk?" Someone asked.

The voice was familiar and I nodded, closing my stinging eyes, "Please give me something to clear my eyes, I cannot see."

He shouted a command and pressed a wet cloth to my face and I took it from him wiping around my eyes and praying nothing worse had happened to them.

"Better?"

The Duke had the most concerned expression on his face. His eyebrows knotted in worry and his frown twitched in slight anger. I felt my shoulders relax as I recognized him and my hand immediately went to my face, hoping I was not hurt.

"Miss Damaran?"

"Yes, Your Grace," I said and he sighed in relief.

"You are lucky I was on my way to your House,"

"Thank you, Your Grace,"

"Thank him." He nodded to the carriage driver who I had hired to take me here. The man stood still holding his cap, watching the assailants brought to their knees. I gestured at him and got his attention and the man bowed,

"Thank you," I said, "For leading His Grace, here."