After the confrontation in the corridor, I was fed and thrown into a carriage. The moment the door closed, my hands immediately made it to the back of my dress, where I tried to loosen up the corset strings in a desperate attempt to breathe normally.
I looked around, and then saw something glimmer under the seat. That's a knife, it has to be! I reached down, grabbed it, and pulled it out of its scabbard before putting it behind me. Sticking the blade underneath the strings, I pulled it out and coughed desperately once I felt release. Finally... I can breathe!
Grabbing the leather corset that had been placed over my dress, I threw it across onto the seat in front of me and took a deep breath before wincing. My throat still feels swollen, despite that so-called magical ointment that they put on it just an hour previous. Apparently, I can't be presented to a prince with a swollen throat, least it be interpreted as abuse.
"You are to say the following to His Highness" the mage that had choked me declared moments before I was placed into the carriage. "You grew up in a small village close to the Richmond estate. Your mother and yourself were generously looked after by the Duke and you received all of the lessons that any other nobleman's daughter would be given. You feel grateful to the Duke's generosity."
I didn't say anything, only because saying 'no' would only push him to choke me again. I'm not lying and I'm especially not painting that pig in a pleasant light. He deserves to get trialled and put into prison for abuse.
I looked out of the window when I felt the carriage move, and saw a shadowed silhouette disappear from behind a set of curtains on the first floor. Don't think for a second that this is getting rid of me. I'll be back, and I can promise you this, Richmond.
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The journey was anything but pleasant. The roads were rough and full of stones the moment we left the capital, and it took its toll on the carriage. I couldn't even relax properly because of the bumps. I would have much rather ridden a horse than sit in this wreck.
We used to have this horse named Barley. He was given to us in exchange for some food by some noble who had broken down in the woods. We handed over three loaves of bread and a pot of pre-made rabbit stew from the day previous, and we received Barley. Sure, it was anything but worth it, since the horse was half dead, but the days that I spent riding that horse were one of my best.
In the end, Barley lasted a year before he succumbed to old age and died. It was a shame, and I remember crying a lot. "All good things must come to an end, Less." she'd whisper into my ear. "Just hold onto your memories, and they'll last forever."
She always managed to say something philosophical in a time like that. You could write a book about every single one of the words that came out of her mouth. She was so well-read, and educated as well. She taught all of the children in our village how to read and write and because of her, most of them got jobs as maids or apprentices in the capital.
Those were the days. But in her own words, all good things must come to an end. I hold onto those memories of those moments with her so that they'll last forever.
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It's been a day since we passed the Attinian border, and I've already felt the change in temperature in my carriage. I've done my best to cover myself in the furs that were once seat throws, but the temperature fell so low below zero that I could barely feel my toes. The leaky roof isn't helping either, I've had to move to the other side of the carriage because I didn't want to get myself wet with cold water when it rained.
The path has become harder to navigate. The snow keeps on falling, and I don't know how much further they'll be able to push on-
Well, right on cue. The carriage stopped, but instead of hearing the sound of the coachmen chatting away, I heard the screams of the horses and the shouts of the two men directing them. I pressed my ear against the wall of the carriage and faintly heard one of them scream "Wolves!".
I held my breath as I suddenly felt something scrape against my door and the snarl of a wild beast. Suddenly, I felt the carriage rock back and forth, and something didn't feel right. How could wolves sway such a big carriage? Unless... their size was different to the wolves in Roche.
The carriage swayed again, and I heard one of the coachmen shout "Help" all while yelping. I grabbed and pushed open the curtain only for my heart to stop. All I saw was an enormous yellow eye, its pupil red and white troth running down its snout.
That thing... is NOT a wolf. That is... a hellhound, a rabid one at that.
It snapped against the window, shattering the glass. I felt a shard slice through my arm as I was pushed back. I looked around me and didn't dare open the doors. The coachmen outside were silent, probably dead, and here I was trapped in this wooden coffin in the middle of a foreign wood.
I need to find a way out of here, but-
Then, my eyes found the wet patch on the seat, where the roof had been leaking. If there's a hole somewhere, then the wood on the roof is weak. If I kick it off, I'll be able to escape from the top. I pressed my back against the seat and began kicking with all of my strength. I was grateful that they made me wear these snow boots. The metal soles helped as I kicked and kicked until I heard the sound of a wooden plank snap. That was my way out... but once I get outside, where will I go?
-End Of Chapter 4-
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