Before she could fully process her fear, Bernard swung his sword. Time seemed to slow, each heartbeat a deafening drum in her ears.
She instinctively leaned back, but the sharp edge of his sword came squarely for her neck. The terrifying thought of her head rolling down once the sword hit her neck paralyzed her.
She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth together, a strange calmness washing over her. She had a feeling she wouldn't die—not in Bernard's hands.
"Isadora?"
The chillness of the metal blade kissing the delicate skin of her neck retreated. She slowly opened her eyes.
"Isadora!" Bernard's voice trembled as he threw his sword down and hugged her tightly. He was shaking, his fear palpable.
Isadora felt his arms around her, his body trembling with the realization of what could have happened. She buried her face in his chest, relief and shock mingling in her tears.
