Sorry for the delay, but this chapter is very long (6k words)

First draft

Elizabeth didn't like to sew.

She saw no reason to waste time doing something so pointless and tedious like sitting for hours with a needle in her hands and small bloody holes in her fingertips. She would have preferred to play with the other children in the yard, but she was a lady and a Summermer, which basically meant a recluse. Of course, this didn't mean that she didn't like dresses, only that the effort seemed completely pointless. There were dozens of women in the castle that would have loved nothing more than to show their skills with the needle. Apparently, however, she was the only one thinking that way.

"Delightful work Elizabeth. Your needlework is improving." Lady Ada squeaked, looking at the cross stitches Elizabeth was sewing.

The older woman clapped her chubby hands as if the twisted shawl in Elizabeth's hands was a work of art. Well, considering her early works, it probably was.

"It is only thanks to your lessons, Lady Ada" Elizabeth answered. She rose and bowed with her hands on the rims of her azure gown, exactly like the older woman taught her. Judging by the slight redness on her cheeks only half of it was an act.

"There is still hope for you."Lady Ada said, her voice barely a whisper. It shouldn't have been possible for her to hear, but Elizabeth's senses had always been sharp.

The smile on her face froze.

You can't draw attention, Elizabeth. No one can ever know.

She slightly bowed her head, hiding her face, "I should go now, Lady Ada."

Lady Ada looked out the window and nodded. There was still some daylight left, but the day was growing short.

"Of course dear. Don't make your handmaid wait." Lady Ada's tone was sympathetic but she barely looked at Elizabeth, her attention completely focused on the shawl.

Once outside, Elizabeth couldn't bear it anymore and snorted.

Ann wouldn't have been fooled so easily.

She felt a knot tightening her heart when she thought about her friend. Ann was the only one she could talk about everything, share everything. The only one who knew her secret. Elizabeth took a deep breath before leaving the sewing house. She had just made a couple of steps when they showed up. Elizabeth was expecting them and yet, she couldn't help but jolt when her watchdogs appeared. They seemed to come out of nowhere, the metal of their heavy armor colder than the coming night. 

Her steps halted, her head turning as she glanced at them. A bad move. Although she couldn't see what lay underneath their full helmets, she could feel they were looking at her, judging her. She tried to stay strong and keep going, her eyes locked on her feet as she went through the yard. The castle was abuzz, servants and guards everywhere, but when they saw her, they all stopped, bowed, and then scurried away. She felt like a leper, but she couldn't blame them. The Temple Knights were that scary. She was about to enter when she saw that someone was still around. They were Peter, the castle's steward, and Tom, one of her father's falconers. They were so caught up in their conversation that failed to notice their arrival.

"...have you heard about it?" Peter asked.

Tom scratched his thick black beard, "Heard about what?"

"The Seekers..." He paused, a tinge of fear in his face, "They have left the Temple of Dawn."

Tom bushy brows snapped together, "The Black Gowns? Are they..." He inched closer, "...hunting witches?"

"Worse. Alchemists." Peter spat, "the whole realm is infested by them."

Tom puffed, "Alchemists, heretics, witches...they all seem the same to me."

"This is different." Peter insisted, "It is well known that all women are impure, but these alchemists are men, well educated and wealthy. They even know our sacred scriptures!"

"Men practicing witchcraft?" Tom's hand closed around the rough medallion with the effigy of the rising sun dangling from his neck, "Lord of the Morning, have mercy of us."

"They practice a new form of Witchcraft. They call it science." Peter continued, "They boil bones, drain newborns of their blood and use it to create the Hellfire, the Devil's elixir."

Tom looked concerned, "The High Cleric should send the knights to Ten Islands. I'm sure those godless infidels are someway responsible for this new devilry."

"Ten Islands is a den of iniquity, but I heard that it's the elves' fault this time. They were the first to dabble in alchemy, more than a thousand years ago."

Tom frowned, "Is that why the guards are edgy? There is a strange atmosphere in the castle."

Peter grimly nodded, "I know what you mean. Something is about to happen. I can feel it."

Tom raised an eyebrow, "You can feel it?"

"Aye." He said in a conspirational tone, "Don't you find strange that all the Highlord's vassals are here?"

Tom shrugged, "It's not strange. Tonight Lady Elizabeth makes her debut. She is lord Bernard's only daughter."

"She is a woman." Peter said like that explained everything, "Lord Bernard is closer to his sons, but even when his firstborn, Lord Amos, came of age, he didn't invite all his vassals to attend the ceremony." He shook his head, "No, this is different. Trust me, Tom, something big will happen tonight."

Elizabeth clenched her fists but she remained completely still just like the knights behind her.

"It's useless for us to know. Useless and dangerous." Tom warned his friend, "Forget the Lord's affairs and let's get something to eat."

Peter grunted something Elizabeth didn't catch. Then she heard them walking away.

Her fingers were cold and stiff when she finally entered the castle. She walked up the long flight of stairs - a daunting task when you're wearing a long dress - until she reached her room at the top of the South Keep. Theoretically, the lonely tower was part of the main building, but in truth, it was completely isolated from the rest of the castle. It was an interesting choice of accommodation for a young lady, but then again, she was a woman and like her father and his priests liked to say, physical labor was a good way to teach her humility, keep the corruption, the inherent duplicity of women in check.

Elizabeth didn't know if she really learned anything, but thanks to this, she was in great shape. She wasn't even sweating when she finally arrived at her room. She'd just turned the corner when saw Dinah waiting in the hallway.

The old handmaid looked anxious, "Lady Elizabeth?"

"I'm here." She took the handmaid's hand between hers and whispered, "I'm fine."

Dinah glanced at the two mute knights behind her and tried to smile, "Let's go inside, dear. You are trembling."

Elizabeth left the two knights in the hallway, the light in their eyes dying out as they stood still and stiff like suits of armor. Then she followed Dinah inside, her brow furrowed as she eyed the familiar room. It was clean enough, but it looked spartan, a convent's cell more than a place suitable for the Highlord's only daughter. Aside from a bed, a wooden armoire and a small altar consecrated to the Lord of the Morning, there was little more to adorn the room.

"You will leave this house soon, my lady." Dinah whispered softly.

"I hope so." Elizabeth forced a smile, "What about my dress?"

"Lord Bernard ordered something special for the occasion. A silk dress from the eastern continent." Dinah patted her back, "Are you happy? It must be worth hundreds of coins."

Of course, it is! He dresses dress me up before selling me off to some noble!

She felt something like electricity running over her veins, no different from a raging storm responding to her anger. The old woman took a step back, her aged face contracting.

"Then..."Elizabeth took a deep breath, "...where is this dress?"

"I don't know my lady." Dinah furrowed her brow, but there was a hint of wariness in her eyes, "Master Peter didn't bring it yet."

"Maybe he forgot. Why don't you check it out?" She asked, trying to keep her voice steady, "I don't want to be late."

"Of course, my lady." Dinah bowed before scurrying out of the room.

Elizabeth leaned against the wall, the cold stone gradually cooling her anger.

Maybe Dinah is right. Marriage might be the only way to leave this cage.

When the handmaid came back, she didn't speak anymore. She helped Elizabeth getting inside an azure silk dress with silver rope bordering the trims of the wide sleeves. Elizabeth had to admit the dress was beautiful. The stitches placed at the center empathized her curves, and the dress was of the same shade of her grey-blue eyes. Beautiful but far from original. Azure and silver were the colors of her house. When Dinah finished braiding her long raven-black hair, she was ready for the banquet.

Her silent sentinels were still outside when she came out. They escorted her, discouraging anyone from getting close by sheer presence. Only when she walked through the huge door leading to the main hall, they stepped aside. A servant announced her arrival, but her nerves were taut as the strings of a bow, and she barely heard him. Gradually, however, astonishment replaced her nervousness. 

The hall of Summer was a riot of colors; the white ivory of huge tusks at the corners of the room merging with the amber of the Rising Sun's banner hanging from the ceiling and the silver, gold, and bronze of the statues placed at the center. Her senses were suddenly overwhelmed by unfamiliar scents, the sound of laughter and songs so different from the silence of her small cell. She stared in wonder at the people around her, drinking in the sight of the ladies' colorful dresses. 

Soon, however, her fascination turned into envy, her steps automatically slowing down when she realized that her own dress, albeit beautiful, was much more conservative and old-fashioned than theirs. Yet, everyone, especially the males, was staring at her, their eyes glued to her breasts, unnaturally big for a girl of her age, and her longs legs. She saw ser Elias, heir of Windkeep, tracing the sensual line of her full lips with his eyes. Their attention made her uncomfortable, but the series of courtesies and greeting that followed was even worse.

She saw the limping lord Measey and Cardinal Clemens talking to lord Darmoor, her father's vassal, a fake smile on his lips as pretended to listen to him. She recognized her uncle Jacob, a fifty-something man who bore the paladin insignia, the formal leader of the Temple's knights, sitting near her father, brothers and other big shots at the honor table.

"And this is my daughter, Elizabeth." Her father Bernard said when Elizabeth came to pay her respects like a good daughter was supposed to.

"You remember ser Robert, Lord Headow's son? And Jeremy Millfield of course..." He said, parading her before his guests like a piece of meat.

"A beautiful lady" Cardinal Clemens praised, "Congratulations."

Bernard smugly smiled as if the priest's compliments were for him. The twins Amos and Aran, her older brothers, just sat there silently, rigid and formal as they stared at her.

"Whoever marries you will be a lucky man. You look lovely, niece." Her uncle said, and for once, Elizabeth felt a touch of warmth in Jacob's voice.

"You are too kind, uncle." She tried to smile, but she felt her head spinning. Crowded places were a challenge for someone like her, in more ways than one.

"She is indeed." Lord Darmoor said, his smile turning predatory as he took a bite at the wild boar leg. Oil poured down his chin, but he didn't seem to notice. "Really delicious."

Elizabeth battled the urged to recoil. She was looking away, trying to focus on something else when she waw someone who wasn't supposed to be there. Elizabeth froze when she found herself face to face with Symon, baron of Lockend as well as her brother. He looked taller, way more muscular than she'd remembered. But then again, four years was a long time, and the boy in her memories was now a grown man. He looked handsome, though he was a bit shorter than the twins, his skin darker and his shoulders broader. He was smiling but those black and hard eyes of his made her skin crawl. He looked like a lion or another ferocious beast. A predator.

"It's been a while, Lizzie." Symon stared at her with such intensity that she felt suddenly out of breath, "How have you been?"

"Brother." She managed to answer, but her voice was crackly as if she was choking back tears, "You are back."

"Happy?" Symon teased, but Elizabeth didn't answer. She couldn't.

Her father frowned, "Your brother should be hundreds of miles away." His tone sounded reproachful like it was her fault, "You should be thankful, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth kept her head down, "Thank you, Symon."

"Not bad, young Symon." Cardinal Clemens interjected, "A brother should keep an eye on his sister."

"He is a good boy" Lord Bernard features softened a little, but then he looked at her, and his expression turned frosty, "Elizabeth, on the other hand..."

"We should talk later." Jacob said to Bernard, but he was glancing at Elizabeth, "The guests are waiting."

"You're right." Bernard nodded, and when he looked at Elizabeth again, his gaze looked cold and detached as usual, "Join the other ladies, Elizabeth." Her father dismissed her.

Any other day she would have smiled with grace and in the meanwhile cursed Bernard in her mind but that day was different. The table where women and children were sitting looked very inviting at the moment.

"Excuse me." Elizabeth's legs were a bit unsteady as she curtsied.

She could still see Symon's eyes on her back when she hurried to her table. She felt her head throbbing and all the sound vanishing without a trace. She almost didn't notice when Lady Ada grabbed her arm and escorted her to the table.

"Are you fine, dear?"The older woman sounded concerned.

"I'm a bit nervous." Elizabeth confessed, "Could I get a glass of wine?"

Lady Ada furrowed her brow, studying Elizabeth's face for some seconds, "A bit of it won't hurt you, I suppose." Lady Ada eventually said as she nodded at a servant.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry, dear. Your debut night can be terrifying, right?" She nodded, "I remember mine. When was that? Oh, you were just a fledgling, my dear, when..."

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when lady Ada started babbling as usual. She took a sip from her chalice, discovering that the liquid in her glass wasn't wine, but Wyvern's nectar. Obviously, she'd never drunk it, but she recognized it from the peculiar taste similar to blueberry. It looked like red wine, but it was much stronger. Exactly what she needed at the moment. Elizabeth drained the crimson liquid, the strong alcohol quietening the storm raging inside her head. However, if getting drunk had its perks, the drawbacks were much more dangerous. Especially for her.

"...couldn't she wear something different? Blue, blue and blue again. She is so dull." The voice wasn't new to Elizabeth, but she didn't understand who was speaking. She looked around but whoever was talking wasn't someone close to her.

"It's the color of the Summermer." A second voice that Elizabeth pinpointed as that of Brigitte Henberg, "But it is true that Lady Elizabeth is a bit boring. Well, maybe she is just timid."

Now she finally realized that the voices belonged to the two Henberg sisters. Elizabeth could hear them like they were before her, but they were sitting on the other side of the table, more than ten meters away from her.

No, not again! She tried to cut off the voices, but the alcohol was muddling her thoughts.

"Timid?" Sarah snorted, "Don't let her fool you. She is a snob. I tried to get close to her, but she has always rejected my invitations. Maybe because she is the Highlord's daughter, she thinks that my tea parties are beneath her. Her brother, on the other hand..."

Elizabeth could feel her breathing roughly.

"Which of them?"Brigitte asked.

The two sisters giggled.

"The second youngest, Symon. The youngest, Rory, is not bad, but I heard that lord Bernard sent him to Fivestar to court the Thornless Queen."

The Thornless queen? Elizabeth stiffened.

"But Symon is another matter. I wouldn't mind to..."Sarah began, but Brigitte interrupted her.

"Leave that one alone" She warned, inching closer to her sister, "I heard it was Symon that framed Lord Karui." She whispered, "They say it was to usurp the barony of Lockend."

"But that's only hearsay! Spiteful remarks to sully lord Symon's reputation" Sarah seemed outraged.

"But Symon is lord of Lockend now." Brigitte reminded her, "And that's not the only bad rumor circling around. Leave him alone."

Their voices slowly faded, merging with the background noise, but her ordeal wasn't over.

"...I know what I'm saying! The Gran Khagan is on the warpath. He knows the Avernus want his lands..."

"...Lord Bernard couldn't find his own ass without cardinal Cleme..."

"...How does he intend to make them more civilized? Those Wildlanders are barbarians..."

It was an assault. A wave of words, sounds, emotions. She closed her eyes and covered her ears, but it was meaningless. The problem had nothing to do with that. She heard herself scolding one of the cooks in the kitchens, her voice much deeper and harsher than she remembered. Then she was in the Hall Summer once again, admiring those huge tusks hanging from the wall. She didn't feel anything wrong when she sat at the honor table, surrounded by her brothers. Brothers? No, these weren't her brothers but his liege's sons. His leg was trembling, but he kept his hand on it to keep it still. He hated these parties, but he'd never recovered after the battle with the pirates, and now he could only be an idle man, limping...wait, limping?

Lord Measey? No, I am not him. I am...me! Elizabeth!

She felt trapped in a body that didn't belong to her. She struggled, fighting to leave until she felt a stab of pain. Her vision dimmed, and she felt weightless, floating in the air like a feather. There was something captivating about seeing everything from above. A sensation of...freedom. Yes, freedom. Something she'd never experienced.

I am slipping away!

Her inner voice was trying to warn her, but it sounded weak like it came from far away.

"Elizabeth." Someone called her. She recognized that annoying voice, but she didn't want to listen. She was free at last.

"Elizabeth!" Someone screamed, and she felt a suction, like a vacuum drawing her back in that dark place.

The elation vanished, and she found herself looking at Lady Ada. The older woman was shaking her shoulders. Elizabeth blinked, completely disoriented. 

"How're you, dear?"Lady Ada asked again, in her eyes a hint of...worry?

Elizabeth fought to hold back her tears. She felt emotional, raw. Nobody worried about her. There were numerous people that wanted to use her like a chess piece like her father, but really caring about her? None, except for Ann maybe, but she was a queen now and lived at Fivestar, hundreds of leagues away from here. 

Elizabeth nodded, but she felt tired like never before, her throat dry as dust. She reached for the chalice, but Lady Ada moved it away.

"I think you had enough wine for one-night, little lady" Ada eyed her closely before handing her another glass, "Drink this. It's water."

She guzzled it down and exhaled.

"Better?" Lady Ada asked.

"Yes, thank you."

Elizabeth was still looking at her with gratitude when the hall fell silent. She turned just in time to see that her father was standing up.

"My Lords," Highlord Bernard deep soprano voice echoed across the room, "Thank you for attending my dear daughter's banquet."

Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hands. Dear daughter?

"There isn't a day that passes that I don't offer my gratitude to the lord of the morning for giving me such a pious and beautiful daughter. She is my pride and joy." Bernard continued.

He sounded so sincere, looking at her with such affection, that even Elizabeth was almost fooled by his speech. Almost. The guests rose from their seats and begun clapping their hands. The applause intensified for a few seconds before quietening down. Then, all of a sudden, everyone was looking at her. Lord Bernard Summermer raised an eyebrow and glared at her, but Elizabeth barely managed to stand up and bow when her knees gave up, forcing her to sit. She saw a muscle in her father's face twitch while the silence became so thick and awkward that even Lady Ada stared at her, silently urging to say something, anything to defuse the situation, but Elizabeth just lowered her head.

Bernard faked a cough, "My apologies, my daughter is a bit shy."

Elizabeth fought a smile. That was the first time her father sounded ashamed of something.

Cardinal Clemens smiled indulgently, "No need for apologies, Lord Bernard. Lady Elizabeth doesn't like being the center of attention, and there is nothing wrong with that. In fact, that's a commendable behavior for a woman. Your lordship raised her well."

"Thank you, your Eminence." Bernard bowed in gratitude.

"Besides, there are much more pressing matters we need to discuss." Clemens gave him a meaningful glance.

"You're Eminence is right." Bernard straightened his shoulders, sticking his chest out as he recovered part of his usual pompousness, "My lords, good people of the Green Valley, I would like to take this opportunity to talk to you about something. It's been a very long time since our ancestors defeated the elves, putting an end to the age of sorcery. They swore a sacred oath before the Lord of the Morning, but what did their descendants do? What did we do? Nothing." Bernard waited for his words to be absorbed by the crowd. It was a dramatic pause, another theatrical trick he'd learn from his priests, "The elves are still here. They are diminished, weak, but they are still here." He repeated, "We could've destroyed them, but we allowed them to survive, we allowed evil to endur. I know why this happened. We've become complacent. Our people have forgotten the horrors of magic and started thinking that living in a cursed land was enough penance. Someone, even among the people here today, proposed to take them as servants, redeem them with our example."

Elizabeth saw the guests turning to stare at each other, suspicion spreading among them like a disease.

"They can't be redeemed. They are abominations, a plague for this world! And the reason, the only reason the Lord of the Morning didn't finish them off was that he wanted to test our faith. It was a trial, my lords, and we failed."

Elizabeth winced when many nobles, including the usually grouchy Ser Reuben and lord Darmoor, lowered their heads in shame.

"But fear not, good people of the Green Valley! The Lord of the Morning in his boundless wisdom offered us a way to rectify our mistake. Lords and ladies, friends of the Temple, it gives me great pleasure to say this:" He spread his arms wide, "At last, the wait is over."

A quiet murmur rose from the people around, their face filled with stupor.

"Yes, the rumors are true." Bernard nodded, "After years of refusal, Highlord Alhstrom finally granted us safe passage."

The hall fell silent for a second, then the crowd burst into applause.

"Praise the Lord!" They shouted at the top of their lungs.

There was dismay on Elizabeth's face when she turned and saw that Lady Ada was just like the others, clapping her hands with such zeal, Elizabeth believed she was possessed. Everyone was the same. She could see their passion, their excitement, and zeal like something tangible, a flow of emotions similar to a big skein unfolding across the room, its single threads moving from a person to the other. It seemed like a chaotic tangle, but there was power in it. Elizabeth could sense it. 

She felt her skull throbbing, her stomach in disarray when resisted her first impulse, that voice in her head urging her to control the threads, bend them to her will. In the meanwhile, some minstrels began to play their instruments, and a few nobles headed for the dance floor. Elizabeth grimaced. Dancing wasn't top on her list right now.

"I would like to retire." She said to Lady Ada, "I'm not feeling well."

Lady Ada frowned, "Lord Bernard will not be pleased. You should at least dance with some of his vassals...but maybe it's not a bad idea. You don't look too good at the moment. "

Elizabeth looked deathly pale, her face completely devoid of blood.

"It's a pity, but..." Lady Ada sighed, "Fine, you've my permission to leave."

Elizabeth looked surprised, "Thank you, but my father..."

Lady Ada shook her head, "Don't worry about lord Bernard. This night is about you, dear, not him."

Maybe what had happened before was still affecting her, but Elizabeth's eyes immediately moistened. She bowed, rose and headed for the door. She was about to leave when she found herself staring at Lord Darmoor's pitted face.

"Are you already leaving lady Elizabeth?" She recoiled when he talked. His breath stank of alcohol and cheese, "Not before dancing with me, I hope? Lord Bernard already promised me."

Elizabeth turned to the honor table only to notice that her father was looking at her with a smug smile on his face. Before she could even think of inventing an excuse, Darmoor placed a hand on her forearm and dragged her to the dance floor. She squirmed under his touch, unable to control her revulsion. Duke Damian Darmoor was barely forty years old, but he'd already buried two wives and his reputation as libertine was known far and wide throughout the land.

Yet, when the music started, she could nothing but let him have his way. Soon enough, Lord Darmoor started spinning her around like a ragdoll. Before she knew what was happening, he'd already led her to a corner, a dark nook well hidden behind a pillar. She was still dizzy when Darmoor pinned her against it, his hand drifting down her spine, his sweaty fingers brushing against her buttocks.

"Let go of me" She hissed as she attempted to get free, but to her surprise, Lord Darmoor immediately released her, taking a step back as he bowed like a gentleman.

That's when Elizabeth realized that the music had stopped.

"Thank you for the dance, Lady Elizabeth." A smile danced on his lips, "It was delicious."

Then he turned and left without looking back. Elizabeth's face was flushed, her breath hitched and her clothes in disarray, but she didn't care at the moment. She had enough of it. She ignored the stunned gazes of the lords and ladies around her and left. Oddly enough, her watchdogs were nowhere too be seen. Dinah was absent, her room empty, but Elizabeth was too tired to think about it. She only wanted to sleep and forget the entire evening if possible. 

She locked the door and she was just about to undress when she heard a click.

"Dinah?" Elizabeth asked.

The door opened but the person on the other side wasn't her maid.

"Tired, sister? "Symon teased her.

Elizabeth unconsciously stepped back.

"This is my room, Symon. You have to leave." She ordered, but her voice sounded a bit shrill, her eyes were wide with fear. Symon wasn't much taller than her, but he seemed to loom over her.

"What? Not even a hug for me?" He grinned, "That's cold, sister."

Elizabeth shivered, "What are you doing here, Symon?"

"I wanted to see you." He took another step toward her, and Elizabeth backed away.

Symon frowned, "Stop." He ordered, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Elizabeth recognized that arrogance she'd come to know so well during her childhood. Now it was hidden behind his charming smile and perfect manners, but that didn't make it less real.

"You shouldn't be here."

"What's the problem? I'm just visiting my sister's room. Besides," His expression softened, "I missed you, Lizzie."

His tone was so smooth, so sincere that she almost believed him.

That's why he is so dangerous. She reminded herself, He can be charming when he wants to be.

"Really?"She replied dryly, but her eyes darted about her. Then she froze, her gaze falling on the hairpin lying on the table behind her.

"Of course." His smile widened, "And you? Did you miss me?"

"You have the courage to ask me that? After what you have done?" She glanced at the door, but if the absence of the knights and her handmaid was of any indication, he'd planned this encounter carefully.

Symon looked surprised, "Are you still blaming me? For that trifling thing?"

"Trifling, Symon?" She snorted before taking a step back toward the table, "You killed someone."

Symon shrugged, "I did."

His quiet admission startled her. He was too calm. As if...

This time, Elizabeth wasn't able to hide the horror in her face.

"Why?" She whispered, "She was an innocent woman."

"Innocent?"He sneered, "No woman is innocent. And as for why," Symon took another step forward, "You already know the answer. That maid didn't know her place. She tried to steal from me."

Elizabeth shook her head, "Clara would've never done something like that."

Symon scowled, "He tried to take you away from me."

"I'm not a thing, Symon." She said as she reached for the hairpin, "I never belonged to you."

"That's where you're wrong, Lizzie." His mouth curved into a smile, but his face was warped, his words laced with a touch of madness, "You are mine. You've always been."

"You're crazy." She retreated for the third time, but Symon had enough of it.

"Stop running!" He snapped, pouncing on her like a madman.

Elizabeth was ready and tried stabbing him with her hairpin. Unfortunately, Symon was like a wild beast, his senses incredibly keen. He grabbed her hand, the air leaving her lungs as he pushed her backward, using his body to pin her against the wall.

"That was dangerous, Lizzie." He whispered, and Elizabeth felt his rough breath on her skin, his lust like a hunger that needed to be sated, "You could've killed me."

"A pity that I didn't." She hissed.

Inexplicably, Symon grinned, "I didn't think you had it in you, but I like it." He ran his hand through her hair, "You're just like me, aren't you?"

It was almost a reflex, something springing from the fear, the anger and all the emotions trapped inside her when she slapped him on the cheek. Symon wasn't expecting it and faltered, momentarily releasing her. Elizabeth seized the opportunity to finish what she'd started, the silver hairpin going through cloth and flesh as she stabbed him on the chest. Symon winced in pain before backhanding her.

"Whore!"He hissed.

Elizabeth fell on the floor, bleeding from her nose. Symon was over her in no time, nailing her down with his weight.

"Are you having fun jerking me around, Lizzie?"

She struggled to get him off, but he blocked both her hands with his own.

"I bet you are. You're just like your mother, aren't you?" He asked, his mouth twisting into a cruel smirk, "You knew I was watching, but you still let the old goat touch you."

"Old goat? W-What..."

"But this is not a game anymore, Lizzie. Do you know what that piece of shit dared to ask?" His voice was low, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes, "Your hand. He wants to marry you."

"Lord Darmoor?!" Elizabeth fought the urge to thrown up. 

Symon was looking at her closely, and suddenly relaxed, loosening his grip.

"Don't worry, Lizzie." He reassured her like he was her knight in shining armor, "I won't let him near you. That's why I need to stake my claim."

"Claim?" Her breath shook, sweat trickling down her spine, "What...what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about this." He said as he kissed her neck, "And this." Again, "...and this." And again.

"Stop... Symon, stop!!!" She shouted, freezing when her brother slid his hand between her legs.

Then, she feverishly trashed her legs like her life depended on it.

"Stay still, you bitch!" He yelled, showing his true face.

Elizabeth screamed when he ripped off her dress until only her corset was left. She tried to use her knees to kick him off her, but Symon only grunted before tightening his grip over her arms. It was when she felt the bulge between his leg that her anger turned into desperation.

"Father will know!" She cried, "He'll never forgive you!"

However, Symon sneered, "Poor little Lizzie, you really know nothing, don't you?"He whispered in her ear, "Father hates you. You remind him of your mother, the whore who betrayed him. He only tolerates you because he can use you."

"That's why you should let me go." She said, trying to keep her voice steady, "I'm part of his plan, if you ruin me..."

"...do you think he will punish me?"He mocked, "He won't. You know how much father dotes on me. Sure, he'll be a bit disappointed, but eventually, he'll forgive me. Instead, he will blame you, the temptress who led his golden son into temptation. He'll just discard you, and when he does I will be there, waiting to pick up the pieces."

Tears filled her eyes, "You're my brother! He will never let you marry me! "

Symon threw his head back and laughed, "Not me, stupid girl. You'll marry some minor noble, maybe one of my knights, and then..." He smiled at her, lust glittering in his eyes as he pulled the tie of her corset.

Elizabeth could not hold back her tears this time. She knew what would happen to her. She would become a slave, no more than a broken toy, an outlet for his frustrations.

No!

When hatred and fear merged together in a vortex of emotions that threatened to engulf her, a scream rose from that part of her she'd kept hidden for years. Symon staggered back as if she'd physically hit him. Then, he screamed. Everything he had done to her since they were children - his small acts of cruelty, the murder of her maid, the way he'd tortured her - was sent back to him. He felt what she'd felt, and when he saw through her eyes, the oppressor became the victim.

A chilling scream resounded in the room, but no one came to his rescue. He tried to struggle, but he was helpless, completely at her mercy. He writhed in pain, grabbing his hair with such strength that he started pulling them off, but even that wasn't enough for Elizabeth. She wanted to get rid of his disguise, remove the layers he'd built to hide his true nature. She wanted everyone to know what he really was. When it was finally over, Elizabeth felt completely drained. The last thing she saw was Symon running outside the room, screaming like a madman. Then she fainted.