A/N: Hey everyone, I'm not 100% happy with this chapter and will likely revise it once I figure out what's bothering me. Nonetheless I hope you still enjoy and voice your opinions in the comments below.
Don't forget to vote if you enjoyed it :)

          The journey from the town to my room, took what felt like no time at all. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision and thoughts. I threw myself onto my bed and hid myself beneath the sheets. I hated myself. Hated myself for hurting him. My dearest friend. The only one who had always been there for me through it all. Of course he loved me. He had always loved me. And I had the decency to throw it back in his face, like the selfish child I was. Why couldn't I just return his feelings? I could be happy with Charlie. What was holding me back? What was making me too afraid to seize the one thing I had always wanted. Sobbing even harder now, my breath caught in my throat as I buried my sorrows into my pillow.

I could still remember the day he had come to my rescue when a man grabbed me on the outskirts of the village, a knife to my throat. I was not posing as Skylar at the time so I was completely unarmed and at the mercy of the deranged man; who kept demanding that I take him to my uncle so he could exchange me for gold. Hearing the struggle as he passed by, Charlie had wasted no time in lunging at my attacker. The man tossed me to the ground and attempted to slash at Charlie who dodged and fought him until the man was forced to flee, blood streaming from his ruined face. When the fight was over Charlie had helped me to my feet and asked,

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Completely oblivious to the crimson stain rapidly seeping through his tunic.

"I'm fine Charlie," I responded, "it's you that's hurt." I pointed to his stomach and his gaze followed my finger to the wound. He paused for a moment, his adrenaline dissipating almost as quickly as it had arrived, before he crumpled into a heap on the ground. I caught him as he fell, desperate to stop the blood that still ebbed from the large gash just below his navel. Since winning them I had always kept the dragon tears on my person and that day was the first time I used them. Even as his flesh steamed and bubbled Charlie continued to protest, begging me to save them for myself or someone more important.

I had never felt so wretched in my life as I cried myself into a restless slumber, tossing and turning throughout the night as nightmares plagued my dreams. I awoke in the morning feeling worse than death, deep black rings underlining my reddened eyes. Tia knocked lightly on my door and opened it, holding a tray of assorted breakfast foods for me to eat. She almost dropped the tray when she saw the devastation in my room. Feathers from burst pillows covered the ground and my bedsheets were strewn across the room.

"M... M'lady, it looks as if a demon has been here!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with fright. I smiled wearily and said,

"No. No demons here. Just nightmares. I'm sorry about all this mess."

"Nightmares..." she whispered, her lips still trembling. She set down the tray on my night stand as she got to work clearing away the mess. I helped her push my mattress back onto the bed frame properly and headed over to the tray. Starving, I devoured the tray of food like a ravenous beast. Tia kept stealing quick glances in my direction and I realised I was terrifying the poor girl.

"I'm going to go see my Uncle, could you please help me dress?" I asked, making my voice excessively gentle, as I went behind my dividers. In silence Tia dressed me into a plain lavender gown, before continuing to clean. I exited my room and walked down the hall to my uncle's study. I knocked on the heavy oak door. Receiving no reply, I frowned and walked downstairs.

"Uncle?" I called out. My heart sank when I heard our steward Arthur say,

"Your Uncle is dealing with an issue in the stables."

"Is it the horses?" I asked quickly, fearing for Moon's safety.

"I fear so my lady," he said, his voice grim. I gathered up my skirts and ran out to the stables. Arriving just in time to witness the Stablemaster's muscular arm bringing down an axe on the neck of my beloved horse. With a sickening thud, rivulets of scarlet blood seeped and surged through the grass beneath her, coating everything in their wake like some form of morbid tidal wave. I felt a scream tear through my lips as he and Uncle Henry turned to look at me. Their faces were etched with worry, highlighting their true age. My uncle strode over to me. I couldn't speak or move. All I could see was Moon, my silver mare, her white mane speckled with red as she lay sprawled in the grass. I almost laughed at the cruelty of the world. I had lost my mother, my father, my horse and perhaps the love of a dear friend. What more was there to take from me? Geoffrey put down the axe and came over to where I had fallen to my knees, my uncle's arms the only thing keeping the rest of my body upright. I sobbed hysterically, my breath rasping in my throat as I tore my eyes away from Moon's slain form and buried them in my uncle's chest.

"I'm so sorry lass," began the Stablemaster, "I tried everything to save her, there was nothing left to do but end her suffering." I could hear the sincere remorse in his voice and believed his words, but they did not ease the pain of losing Moon. I was certain my heart would tear asunder if I lost another loved one. After last night events had used up my supply of tears and was completely numb. In my exhaustion I began to drift in and out of consciousness in my uncle's arms, who had patiently held me as I grieved. I was hovering in the space between awareness and sleep when I heard him tell someone to carry me up to my room and put me to bed.

           When I woke from my slumber I felt as if I had fallen asleep in the midday sun. My throat was parched and my face ablaze and swollen. Groggy, I peeled the sheets from my sweating body and poured myself a glass of water, downing it in a single gulp. I opened the window and saw that night had fallen, so I let the evening breeze soothe my aching body. I longed for Moon's death to have been some horrible nightmare, but I knew that the ache I felt in my chest would not be there if it had been. 

As I stood by the open window staring out into the front garden, I noticed a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. A hooded man had been standing beneath the window of my uncle's bedroom and was now stealthily approaching the marble columns that suspended the study balcony. As I watched him prepare to climb he suddenly turned and fixed his burning gaze on me. A small squeak escaped my lips as I ducked out of sight.

          Letting a few moments pass I chanced another glance into the yard but the man was nowhere to be seen. It was then that panic set in. I shut my window and closed the latch before running down the hallway to my uncle's study. Wrenching the door open I burst into the room, bracing myself for a confrontation with the hooded man. But the only man in the room was Uncle Henry, who had fallen asleep in his armchair, his head resting on his desk that was covered in various documents and letters. I felt both relieved and worried by his presence in the study. Had the hooded man known he was in the study? Or did he just see it as the easiest way into the house? My mind was abuzz with a thousand questions I desperately wanted the answers to. I distracted myself by waking my uncle who groaned and muttered something incoherent as I attempted to rouse him. Peering up at me through bleary eyes he mumbled,

"Amelia? What are you doing out of bed child?" I straightened him up in his chair and quickly whispered,

"I couldn't sleep and thought I heard a noise coming from in here. I went to investigate but all I found was a sleepy old man."

"I'm not old," he whined, attempting to rise from his chair. I chuckled under my breath and said,

"Of course not Uncle Henry." He continued to grumble and mutter unintelligible words as I helped him to his bed which, thankfully, was in the next room. Once I had helped him clamber beneath his sheets, I gazed at my surroundings.

          My uncle's room was twice the size of my own and boasted an unobstructed view of the enormous, snow-capped Otkir Mountains that lay to the east. When I was a young girl I had often sat by the window seat and stared at those mountains for hours, fantasising about the dragons that were rumoured to dwell there. I had imagined a kaleidoscope of colourful glittering scales as they soared above the mountains and into the lands beyond, relishing in their lives of freedom. For a single, fleeting moment I felt nostalgia wash over me soothing my current fears. 

When it had passed I went to the nearest window and set about checking it for any signs of damage or forced entry. Satisfied with its condition, I locked it, drew the curtains and did the same to the other window. I slowly tread my way back to my own room, my heart hammering in my chest as I imagined every shadow or noise as a potential intruder. I tried to reassure myself that there was nothing to fear. I had most likely scared the man off, who probably just wanted to steal money or expensive ornaments. However, despite my precautions and attempts at convincing myself I still felt uneasy. By the time I had slipped beneath my bed covers I was uncertain I would be able to sleep now that paranoia had me in its clutches.