The man returned to his feet, dragging Levina up and forcing her to her knees. She flinched as the sharp gravel sunk into her knee.
She looked up. There were a total of four men. Three were buff and heavily armed, and another wielded a dark sword. He was older, his hair a fine mesh of grey and black hair, and had finer skin and a slight raise of his shoulder in unspoken pride. Whoever he was, he was a very special man.
The man who had tackled her to the ground placed the sharp blade of his sword against the skin of her neck. She winced as the cool metal grazed her skin.
She swallowed. "Please don't hurt me," she whimpered. She had intended to display a little strength, but her voice had faltered in fear. For someone who had been running from death her entire life, this was her first close encounter with it. Her legs trembled, and an unsettling, cold tingle tickled her spine.
"My Lord, what say you?" he asked, staring at the special man.
