Summary: Kitsune is a wealthy billionaire on the hunt for the Front Man of these legendary Squid Games she's heard so much about. However, in her attempt to find this man's true identity, the hunter will become the hunted.
Relationship: Front Man/Hwang In Ho x Original Female Character
Warnings: Kidnapping/abduction, assault, non-consensual drugging, sadism, fear play, knife play, blood play, Dom/Sub, consensual but not safe or sane, dub-con, sexual activity, read with caution
The moment she stepped outside she realized that she faced a dilemma. If she kept the fox mask on she would be much easier to spot by this Black Panther guy. If she took it off she’d stick out to anyone passing her because they’d definitely know she was Japanese. They may not say anything about it but she would draw attention with weird looks and if this man was watching her because she was being hunted he’d be looking for anything out of the ordinary. She did have a black face mask and sunglasses in her purse along with a few other items but it was more like a small handbag than something that could carry dozens of supplies. At least luck was on her side since she was exiting with a crowd of people who had also been tagged. Some of them kept their masks on and some immediately pulled them off. She lowered her head and walked with a group until they started to disperse in different directions which she believed gave her enough cover to duck into a dark alley.
It was late, so not many people around to see her, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone. She pulled off the fox mask and quickly replaced it with the black face mask and sunglasses. It was how she had been getting around the city otherwise. It somehow got her less looks than if she had walked around without it and when she spoke she sounded like a local so people just thought she was weird, and she was completely fine with that over the potential racism or even danger she could face as a Japanese woman alone there. She wasn’t traveling as a CEO with her security she was traveling solo in an attempt to find someone dangerous to request something illegal. Obviously, she couldn’t have companions. Not that she couldn’t trust her employees or friends but she didn’t want to put them in danger too.
She pulled her phone from her handbag and used an app to record her GPS location and a message which would send automatic updates every ten minutes to a friend of her’s. The only one she believed she could trust, though that friend had no idea why she was in Korea other than “for business” and she was also located in the United States. Should anything happen to her, help would not be coming quickly that way but at least there would be someone with her last known location to know that she needed to be looked for. She still believed that chances were extremely low that she’d been tagged by the right person but she did think that it was possible that whoever this person was may know who she was looking for. Or she was going to get herself brutally violated and possibly murdered. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
After tucking her phone back into her bag she headed further down the dark alley, not wanting to stop too long in the chance that she could be spotted and she exited on the otherside. It was odd for her, navigating streets on foot and also not having a driver to do it for her. That was what she was used to in Japan, even if sometimes public transit was a lot faster. Though even there she was considered kind of odd for taking the subway when she was a billionair CEO. The good thing about that was it had helped her to navigate the train systems much easier in Korea and she found a station in about five minutes. She hurried down the stairs and looked at her watch. Five minutes had passed. She had ten more to get a lead on the predator.
The next train was due in about 90 seconds. She didn’t really care where it was going just that she got on it and was able to take it as far as it went in whatever direction. Maybe this guy wasn’t expecting her to take this so seriously, or maybe he was. She casually glanced around the area for anyone or anything suspicious going on but nothing out of the ordinary stood out to her. It was going to be one of the last trains before the station would shut down too so if she hadn’t been followed all the way in before she got on the train whoever was after her was going to have a lot more problems trying to figure out where she vanished to.
When the train pulled up the doors opened and she got on with a group of other people. Most of them younger than her, and at least two of the men were intoxicated and being loud. Since that wasn’t usual on public transit like that she was hoping it would act as a distraction to her going to the most empty area she could find and taking a seat. It seemed like it took forever for the doors to close but she breathed a sigh of relief once they did and the train started to move. She sat back and looked out of the window across from her. After a minute or two she pulled out her phone to see a text from her friend asking why the hell she was getting location information for her in Korea.
Just trust me. You know, if anything happens. She replied.
Like what? What the hell have you gotten yourself into now?
Nothing you need to worry about. Probably. I usually come out of these things okay, don’t I?
Not wanting to explain herself further or put her friend at risk, she put the phone back into her purse and continued to monitor her surroundings. Who got off the train and who got on. At every stop, things seemed normal so that was a relief. She knew that she couldn’t panic or let the nerves get the better of her or she may make a mistake or miss some crucial detail and in a situation like this any slip up could be deadly. When the train reached the end of the line she got off with a handful of people who were left on the train and tried to hide behind them a bit as she got out of the station into a whole other area that she’d never seen before. By that point her fifteen minute head start was more than over.
Once she got back on to the surface streets she kept her head down and just walked, trying to take the most convoluted and odd path that she could think of that also seemed safe. Turning every random corner and taking every alley she could find. Sometimes she’d double back just in an attempt to confuse whoever was trying to find her. About ten minutes of this stupid journey had passed when she entered another alley. What she noticed, almost immediately was a second set of footprints echoing behind her. Something that she definitely hadn’t heard before. Her heart started to pound faster as the heavy steps continued behind her but not quickly. She didn’t run or act as if she noticed anything. It was best to save her energy unitl she knew she was in danger. At the end of the alley she stopped walking and casually took her phone out of her purse, opening her map application to check as if she were genuinely attempting to read directions to some place. The footsteps behind her continued for a moment then stopped. According to how loud they were she couldn’t imagine this person was close but he definitely wasn’t far and she knew it had to be a man because of how heavy the shoes sounded. They weren’t making the same light click of the heels she was in. She took a deep breath and looked up from her phone.
“Would you prefer a chase or should I just keep pretending to not hear you behind me?” She asked out loud without turning around to face him. Her words were followed by dead silence. Her mouth went dry as her hear started to pound so quickly in her chest she was almost positive it was going to leap right out of her throat. Did he not hear her? Or was this some type of thrill for him? She’d have been lying if she’d said it wasn’t doing something for her as well. Being no stranger to fear play or other dangerous games her body was practically trained to be aroused in a situation like this. Even if she was usually not the one being chased. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, there he answered her. Just one word.
Run
She didn’t have to be told twice so she took off full speed out of there rounding the corner to run down the street. At any other time of day this would obviously had caused a commotion but in the middle of the night there wasn’t anyone there. She had the street lamps to show her which direction to go but no cars. No people. The realization of how completely helpless she was only grew stronger but she knew that no matter what, this was not a time to lose her head. Though she did wish she’d had the presents of mind to take her boots off before attempting to run. The tight skirt she was in already made it hard enough to move quickly.
If she could just make it to the next corner where she could see a minor amount of traffic she would possibly be able to evade the man after her. Her hopes of this were immediately dashed as she saw two men step out from either side of her from behind the walls of another alley she was running towards. Both of them were wearing black masks that covered their faces along with dark jackets and hoods. Neither of the masks looked like they were in the shape of anything, certainly not an animal. She slid to a stop and turned around in an attempt to turn back only to see another man dressed exactly the same way.
“What is this? I was tagged by the Black Panther not…whatever this is.” She demanded in a voice she was sure sounded a lot more pissed off than afraid. The man in front of her reached his hand out and grabbed her by the throat, pulling her in close to him.
“You are correct about that. We’re going to take you to him.” The dark chuckle the man let out after he spoke was somehow more eerie being muffled by the mask over his face. Before she could offer any sort of counterargument to this she felt a sharp sting in her neck and seconds later everything went black.
When her eyes finally opened again she found herself in the back of an extremely nice limousine. She was the only one back there other than some weird golden pig sitting on a podium. At first, she was extremely confused by this since her tag said something about a panther and nothing about a pig, when it hit her like a ton of bricks. Perhaps the tales of the Squid Game had only been urban legends, she didn’t know, but one thing that was always repeated in all of them was the piggybank of money suspended from the ceiling. Could this mean she was on the right track? Still groggy from whatever she had probably been drugged with she sat up and rubbed her face, only to realize that she no longer had her face mask or sunglasses on. Shit. With a quick glance out of the window she cleared her throat and composed herself, pulling on the hem of her dress after crossing her legs to appear more comfortable and casual even if she was anything but.
“You’ve been looking for me.” A deep voice seemingly emanating from the pig said. It was different from the voice she’d heard before, the one that told her to run and that she was being taken to the panther. Something about it was much more sinister, in a way that made her heart flutter with excitement.
“I have?” She replied as if she weren’t at all interested in this conversation to begin with.
“So much trouble to meet one man. I know it’s been a long search. You don’t give up easily, do you?” She laughed softly, he wasn’t wrong about that. A lot of time, money, and effort had been put into getting her this far and she damn well wouldn’t have been a good CEO if she took less than what she wanted or gave up so easily.
“No. I get what I want.”
“I can see that. Very few people go through so much to put themselves in harm’s way. Potentially.” He switched then to speaking Japanese. Though it wasn’t perfect and his accent threw her off a bit, it was definitely fluent enough for her to understand what he was saying. At first she was kind of surprised but then she considered that if everything she heard about these games were true there was no reason he shouldn’t know more than one language to communicate with these VIPs he allegedly entertained from around the world.
“What is it you think I’m looking for? Doesn’t your entire practice rely on investors with the type of money I have?” She asked, speaking in Japanese as well since it didn’t matter now that she’d been exposed anyway.
“Your assumption on that is correct but this was how you approached me. A game. Where you are the prey. You surely don’t think you’re still the one in control here, do you?” She clenched her jaw tightly. He had a point even if she hated to admit it but she’d also had no other way of possibly getting in contact with him. Not that anyone would openly help her with, no matter how much money she was offering. What choice did she have?
“I would think that the level of control I may have is directly related to what I have to offer you.”
“And what do you think it is you can offer that I can’t get by any other means?”
“A unique experience. I don’t just want to invest in your games I want to play them. Like all the others.” There was a pause. She had to assume that this was not something he ever heard from someone in her position.
“Out of the question. You’re much too high profile to vanish in something like that, and what makes you think you’d survive past round one?”
“I’ve survived so far, have I not?”
“What would be the point, Kitsune? You already know you’re better than the people playing these games and you certainly don’t need the money.”
“No, but I do need a challenge and I believe it would be quite exhilarating to have a front-row seat for all of it. The mind games. The manipulation. It has to be better than watching from a secret room above, right?”
“If you want to play games we can play games, but it will not be the one that you are seeking. Perhaps, if you win, I may grant your request but, perhaps not. It depends on how pleased I am by the end.”
“And if you are displeased, then what? Death? Didn’t you just say I was far too high profile to disappear in such a manner?” She scoffed as if what he’d said didn’t strike any amount of pure terror into her heart.
“There are things much worse than death in this world, Kitsune.”
She swallowed hard, staring at that stupid golden pig wondering what she’d gotten herself into here. He was right about there being things worse than death, and she could already think of more than a handful herself. It was then that she noticed the area quickly being flooded with some kind of gas. Thick, and a bit noxious, it filled the entire back area of the limo. Her hands desperately attempted to find some way to control the window next to her but the controls had been locked out. Same with the door handle. The only thing she could do at that point was accept her fate and just as things were going dim, with her vision tunneling towards unconsciousness she was almost positive she could see a man looking back at her wearing a black mask in the shape of a panther head.
When she woke a second time from a second drugging she found herself not in a city setting but somewhere out in the middle of nowhere. She had been lying in grass and as she sat up with her head pounding to look around all she could notice around her was the lush green of the forest she’d been taken to. She took a slow deep breath and got to her feet realizing that she had been completely redressed. She didn’t know who had changed her out of her previous dress or where any of her stuff was but she did know that it had been replaced with an orange and white tracksuit. Colors that would match that of an actual fox. Out of the corner of her eye, something glistened in the sun and when she turned her head she recognized exactly what it was. Her fox mask. Something that she’d hastily tossed in the alley in order to put on her second disguise since it wouldn’t have ever fit in her handbag.
She walked towards the mask then leaned down and picked it up. There she found a note on the back. It was immaculately handwritten in Japanese. She glanced around in an attempt to see if anyone was around her but even if they were it wasn’t as if she had the ability to see through trees and brush to someone who may or may not be there. She pulled the note off of the back of the mask before giving it a read.
The panther is hungry as he fixes on your scent. You look delicious. Evade him for the next twenty-four hours and be granted one request. Get captured and be devoured. You are permitted to fight back with whatever you have but you may soon find that resistance is futile. Let the games begin.
Mere seconds after she finished reading the note she heard the sound of trumpets. Something that would normally signal a traditional fox hunt. Presumably ones where the foxes were not human. It wasn’t entirely clear where the sound was coming from but she didn’t think that mattered. Dropping the mask where she stood she took off running as fast as she could. Sadly, it wasn’t very fast at that point. After being drugged and unconscious for God only knew how long she was drained and most certainly dehydrated. This man had much more of the upperhand than he did before and if he also had minions working for him then there was no possible way for her to win this. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to at least try. The first thing she probably needed to do was find a good hiding place then probably a source of water. Those two things would be more important to survival than anything else.
She ran until she was so out of breath she thought she might pass out, puke, or first one then the other. As she stopped she lowered herself to sit on the ground and curled up as she attempted to catch her breath. For now, there was sunlight above to enable her to better see her way through the dense jungle she was trapped in. Based on the position of the sun in the sky she could determine that it was probably close to noon. Once it got dark this was going to become a lot harder, if she could even evade him that long in the first place. As her breath started to calm more and her heart slowed she found herself once again wishing for a cigarette. Too bad she didn’t still have her purse where she kept a pack. She sighed when the snapping of a branch caught her attention. Someone was behind her. Her respite was quickly replaced by the urge to run but she reminded herself she didn’t know what had made that sound. Still, she got to her feet and looked around.
Turning slowly in a circle, eyeing every bit of the green she could see surrounding her she examined all of the areas she could for anything out of place. A color that shouldn’t be there or just complete darkness. Just before she had turned entirely she saw it. A patch of black low in the bushes. After a few blinks to clear her blurred vision she was able to make out that it was a mask. Not just any mask, but the one of the black panther that was hot on her tail. She pretended that didn’t see it as well as she could but realized it probably became abundantly clear that she had noticed since she took off running shortly after.
This time, she wasn’t alone on her run. She could not only hear something approaching quickly behind her but sense it as well. This man was not only fast but he was large. Much larger than her and this time she didn’t have the heels to give the vague impression she was taller than she actually was. She was on flat ground in tennis shoes. At least he had given her that much of an advantage. The obstacles in her path were numerous, it was pretty damn clear that whatever remote area she’d been taken to wasn’t tred on by humans regularly. She had to jump, duck, and even crawl through the trees and plants in her way.
Just when she was thinking that she was about to lose the chase she noticed a rock formation about a hundred yards in front of her and what appeared to be a small opening. Something that she may be able to fit through but there was no way a man of his size could. He was right on her heels now, as her speed had greatly slowed due to the poor physical conditions she was attempting to run in. Clinging to her last bit of hope she dove towards the opening in the rocks, rolling over side ways before sliding and slamming into them. He was right on her now. Dressed in all black. The hooded jacket, the panther mask, the pants, and…a holstered gun.
“Fuck me.” She breathed and scambled like mad for the opening managing to get about half way in before her ankle was grabbed by a very strong black gloved hand. She was yanked back and dragged over the dirt. With a scream she turned and tried to lash out at him with her other foot. Something he dodged with such casual ease that she instantly believed that fighting was not going to be worth her energy. Not physically at least. He had her completely outmatched in combat that way. Whatever she did next it was going to have to be in an attempt to outsmart him. Something which she was sure wouldn’t prove to be easy either, just easier than fighting him. Maybe she could get his gun somehow. She collapsed, going limp allowing him to pull her close until he was right over her on all fours as she panted, trying to catch her breath.
“Was that a request my little Kitsune?” She heard him purr in her ear, though he was back to using Korean other than her Japanese alias as a name. He had mentioned she was too high profile to allow into the Squid Game, so surely he had figured out her real identity. Why wasn’t he using her name? Was it just to fuck with her? Demean her? Dehumanize her?
“What request?”
“Fuck. Me. That is what you said, yes?” Her eyes went wide as she felt his hands trail down over her back towards the waist line of her pants. She squealed and started to try to claw her way forward again but he was very easily able to pin her with nearly his full weight by grabbing her arm and pinning it up against her back. Twisting it in such a way that she knew any sudden movement on her part would snap the bone. God did she ever wish she wasn’t as aroused by this as she found herself, but she was. How was he doing this to her? She wasn’t even into guys like this, or that was what she liked to tell herself. His power was intoxicating and his intelligence was only adding fuel to that fire.
“I may have said that but I didn’t mean you.”
“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t.” He chuckled as her pants were yanked down further. She continued to struggle, even though it was a rather feeble attempt. Even if she really hadn’t wanted this she would have never gotten away from him in her current position but that wasn’t the case. He knew it and she knew it too. The note said she was allowed to fight, though, so that was what she intended to do. He really only had the top half of her pinned so she was able to flail one of her legs, bringing her heel upward into his chest. Though the muscular surface it collided with was apparent. This guy was strong as fuck. “Cute. You really think you can get away don’t you?”
“I know I can get away.” She hissed, “Try me,” The venom was quickly drained from her when she felt the cold metal of a knife against the small of her back. She went still, her body trembling from the insane combination of fear and arousal coursing through her veins.
“If I were you, I’d stay very, very still…” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, then continued to nuzzle her a bit with the mask on in a way that couldn’t be described as animalistic. “I can see how wet you are for me you know. Your body betrays you, Kitsune, but don’t worry I can offer you release.” With that he pulled back and she felt the knife slash over the small of her back. She screamed out at the searing hot nature of the wound then groaned softly as she felt the blood spill out. It wasn’t a deep cut, enough to bleed but not enough to be anything she’d consider a real injury. She heard some kind of noise from him, what seemed like a cross between a growl and a purr and then he shifted and lowered himself again. After a moment she could feel his tongue trailing over the cut, a low moan escaped him. Still pinned, and painfully so, she attempted to turn her head to maybe get a glimpse of his face since he woul dhave had to move the mask up to be able to do that but at her current angle she wasn’t able to see anything other than the cold, dead, black eyes in the panther face.
He lifted up a moment later which was when he cut away her panties quickly, as if he’d had a lot of practice at this. It was probably much easier to do that than pull her pants off completely and risk being kicked a second time in a potentially more vulnerable area. She let out a low whine of frustration. Not from being trapped there but from how long this was taking. Even if she was dead set on acting like she hated this situation she didn’t and she really wished he would just hurry up and fuck her already.
“Something wrong, Kitsune?”
“Go to hell.”
He laughed and shifted again, she could feel the leather of his gloves starting to sting around the skin of her wrist where he had her arm pinned. It burned so nicely as she struggled. The sensation only intensifying. A nice distraction until he penetrated her with what felt like an impressively large cock. Either that or she was just so considerably smaller than him that it was always going to feel that way. She was far from disappointed, though, the sensation was heavenly but she forced herself to cover her involuntary moan with a scream. He ignored it and started to thrust, with absolutely no attempt to be gentle about it. She was shoved against the ground over and over, her face rubbing into it as he fucked her a brutally as a wild animal would and she cherished every second of it.
The feral growls and moans that escaped him were only drawing her closer to climax even with the fact that this was far from the most comfortable position to be in. In his lust to get into her harder and deeper his hand slipped away from her wrist and she quickly found the grip of those leather gloves on her hips, pulling her up higher and angling her in such a way that he could bury himself deep inside. The pain of his brutal thrusts intertwined with the pleasurable jolts they were creating was almost addictive. She couldn’t help but try to struggle out of his grasp in an attempt to see him. Catch the expression on his face. Anything. He seemed to anticipate this would be something she’d attempt to do and a second later her hair was grabbed, her head yanked back, and the blade of the knife he’d used on her moments before, pressed tightly against her jugular.
“Don’t even…think about….it…” He snarled. She froze in place at that point, not knowing if he’d do it or not. He very well could. It wasn’t as if anyone would know. She was at his mercy amd he was her God now. If there were any sort of God out there, that was. Knowing this was the situation she was in pushed her even further towards her climax. He was close too, she could sense it, feel it, hear it in the way he was breathing. Moments later, her orgasm hit, and she let out a squeal of pleasure, something soft enough to be eclipsed by his completely unhinged and feral howl that soon followed as he climaxed, shoving as deeply into her as possible.
The knife dropped from his hand and he collapsed on top of her. She let out a bit of a yelp, not expecting that, but it was a very effective way to keep her pinned since he was at least twice her weight if not a bit more. All of it muscle, as far as she could tell. As she lay there attempting to recover from such an intense encounter she eyed the knife. His breathing still hadn’t evened out properly yet so maybe she had a chance. Her hand darted out, gripping the knife before he could get to it first. There was a bit of a struggle before she was able to jam it into his shoulder. He let out a strangled cry of pain as she wiggled herself back and got to her feet.
“You tricky little whore…” He spat as his gloved hand went to grab the handle of the knife. She yanked her pants up and laughed breathlessly.
“You should have seen that coming, seeing as how there’s no way you don’t know who I fucking am and that I always get what I want.”
“Is that what you think?” He asked and in one quick manuvre and stifled cry of pain the knife was removed from his shoulder, “Because I will not stand for this level of trickery.” He dropped the knife again before using that same hand to apply pressure to the wound.
“Maybe next time you should think about hunting someone less cunning than a fox.” She stood there, watching him, soaking in his pain as the sadist she was. Probably one of the only things they had in common at that point. He let out a sound that almost seemed like a laugh as she swooped forward and tried to go for the knife again. She was fast but he was much faster and as soon as he grabbed it he swiped for her throat. She jumped back almost stumbling and falling before catching her balance.
“Run…Fox…” He snarled, brandishing the knife in her direction. She damn well knew that he was serious and she could not waste this chance to get ahead of him once again. She took off running towards the rocks, clamoring and climbing until she was able to pull herself over and onto the top of the hill. She turned to only spare him one final glance before taking off again. Why the fuck did he have to be so damn sexy and what the fuck was wrong with her that she took pleasure in any of this? Perhaps it was best not to question it, as she knew this may be her last day of pleasure for a very long time, especially if he caught up to her again.
A new story? On this blog? It’s more likely than you think! I have a bit of feelings about this one- I first posted about it right before The Incident 2.0 happened and I had to mostly abandon this blog, so it hurt a bit to try to come back to this idea. But after a nice long break and some catch-up work with some of my other running stories, I decided to finish this one! It’ll be a miniseries-ish, I have a planned fourteen chapters. Not sure how fast it’ll be updated, but I am enjoying where I’ve gone so far!
Part One: The Hunt
Mentioned specially: (this is what I’m labeling the taglist for this mini series, to keep up the Victorian vibes! Let me know if you want to be added!)
Gentle Readers be warned: (yep, even the content warning list is Victorian-themed. I’m having way too much fun.) No warnings this chapter! The first two to three installments will largely be setup before the whump happens.
Masterlist | Next
The Meet
A party of 10, and to 20, or 30, with double the number of hounds, begins early in the morning, they are all well mounted.
The sun had only barely come up, and already the drive was packed full of men and women on horseback. Several clutched fistfuls of leashes, at the ends of which trotted their collections of prize hunting hounds. Every last one of them had been dressed in spotless hunt attire, collars starched and boots shined and buttons polished. The horses, too, had been seen to- coats brushed to gleaming, hooves rubbed shiny, tails and manes braided and brushed until they were fancy enough to rival any lady’s wig at a ball.
And Tilly was supposed to be down there with them, except that Tilly was very late.
“Curses!” she cried, fumbling with the buttons on her shiny black riding boots. “Uncle Roger didn’t say they’d be here so infernally early!”
She had already dressed for the hunt in her tan jodhpurs and neat black riding coat. She wasn’t a member of her uncle’s club yet- that would happen today- and so she couldn’t wear the bright colors that many of them wore. But she had been careful to look the part as much as she possibly could.
Her governess would have been thoroughly dismayed to see how quickly Tilly attended to her hair- a hundred brush strokes went abandoned in favor of a quick run-through with her fingers and a sloppy braid that she wound up onto the back of her head and pinned in place. Her hat went over that, and then she buttoned her boots and was away down the grand staircase.
Tilly burst through the doors into the early morning, intending to slip to the stables and fetch her horse, and then pretend she had been there all along.
What happened instead was that she came face-to-face with her uncle, Lord Roger English, and about four dozen of his closest friends.
"Uncle Roger," she stammered, and then corrected herself with "My lord- I wasn't-"
Lord Roger laughed heartily, and after a moment the rest of the hunters joined in. "My dear girl, we've been waiting for you!" Lord Roger put an arm around Tilly's shoulders exactly as if she was a grown-up member of the club already. "We couldn't have started the hunt without you, never fear. Your horse is already saddled."
Tilly breathed a sigh of relief.
"And, my dear, I must insist that you call me Uncle Roger, rather than "my lord."" Lord- no, Uncle Roger's eyes twinkled. "You will soon be one of my club, yes, but you are already family. I don't refer to you as Matilda, do I?"
The mention of her full name made Tilly shudder. She hated Matilda.
A valet brought her horse for her- a beautiful bay mare she called Acorn for the color of her nut-brown coat. Sure enough, Acorn was saddled and bridled, and someone had brushed her till she gleamed. Her mane and tail had even been braided. Tilly could not keep back a grin.
She was a good horsewoman. She rode astride, although she could ride sidesaddle, and her uncle had remembered that when he gave orders for someone to fit Acorn. Tilly put a leg in the stirrup and swung herself up into the saddle easily, and met her uncle's approving nod as she settled herself into the seat.
It was good of Uncle Roger to take her in. Tilly's parents had died the year before; the pain of their loss still stung. She hadn't even known she had an uncle in the House of Lords. He could have gone on with his life, let her stay in her boarding school until her parents' money had dried up, left her to become a governess or the wife of some middle-class merchant or whatever else it was that happened to rich girls who were no longer rich.
Instead he had found her- tracked his lost relative down himself, even, instead of merely sending someone to fetch her. And he had brought her here, to his beautiful country estate. He treated her like a daughter, and since he had no wife or children of his own, he had promised that it would all go to Tilly when he died. She could not have his title, of course, but he would leave her the estate and everything else he could.
Tilly, she told herself, like she did almost every day, you are a very lucky girl.
And now she was finally being counted as one of his close companions. Lord Roger's hunts were exclusive; he had to like you very much to invite you on one, or so Tilly had heard. Only his most dear and trusted friends accompanied him- he certainly did have a great many close and trusted friends, Tilly mused. There must have been dozens of riders milling about the drive. Suddenly she felt rather nervous. She would be initiated into the club on this hunt, brought in with all these fine ladies and gentlemen. Suppose they thought she wasn't good enough for them? Suppose they said cruel things of her behind her back?
Well, it won't be any different than boarding school, will it? Tilly had hated every moment of school. Somehow everyone had known within the week it happened that her parents had died and her money was running out. She had been called penniless, an orphan, both behind her back and to her face. Many of the girls had teased her mercilessly. Some had gone beyond that, resorting to cruel pranks that had left her in tears at the end of almost every school day.
The day when Lord Roger English had come down the drive in his splendid carriage, escorted into every classroom by the head teacher asking for Miss Matilda Stewart, embracing her like he had always known her when he finally found her in the middle of a torturous French lesson, declaring for everyone to hear that he was taking her to live with him on his estate just as soon as she could pack up her things- the envious looks on her schoolmates' faces would be an image Tilly would fall asleep to as long as she lived. It was a real-life fairy tale, and she didn't think she could ever thank her uncle enough.
Lord Roger snapped his fingers and a servant led over his horse- he had a stable full of them, but today he had chosen Tilly's favorite, a handsome black gelding with a proud attitude about him. His full registered name was Four-and-Twenty Blackbirds, but as that was rather a mouthful to say he was called just Blackbird. Tilly had tried to ride him once and he had thrown her off, although he hadn't seemed mean-spirited about it and she hadn't held it against him. Blackbird only liked to be ridden by Lord Roger, and stood as patient as a lamb while the lord got in the saddle.
"Are we starting?" Tilly asked eagerly, nudging Acorn up beside Blackbird.
Lord English smiled at her. "Not quite yet, my dear girl. There's a few small matters we need to take care of first. You'll understand soon. For now, just wait and watch."
Organize the unorganized was my topic for the 2023 National Labor Federation calendar. I thought of the metaphor of the fox hunt. A cruel pastime of the wealthy and noble class in Britain where a gang of hunters on horseback with dogs chase down a single fox to the death. What if you could organize a coordinated effort against the wealthy and other systems at play? Could a labor organization/union take down the nobleman? Prints available https://society6.com/art/organize-the-un-organized
