It was late when Aylin rode into the courtyard of Dovewood Manor. Traveling from Stormwind was a bit of a gallop, and the groom that moved to take control of her mount murmured a soft greeting to Aylin.
“Good evening, Alaster. Please make sure that Trigger is given a proper rub down, and walk until he is cooled down. I’m afraid I may have pushed him a little too hard, but it was already after dark when I departed Stormwind. And give him an extra beet feed. He did well.”
“Yes, m’lady. I’ll see it done,” Alaster replied, patting Trigger’s neck before leading him away.
Aylin watched the groom head for the stables. She wrapped the thick riding cloak further around herself before heading towards the manor.
“You may as well show yourself, Derrek. I know you are there,” Aylin spoke candidly as her footsteps fell on the gravel below. Her boots weren’t the only steps she heard, and she couldn’t suppress the soft smile that came to fruition as a result. “The gravel gives you away.”
“You mustn’t be so careless, m’lady. You should’ve stayed in Stormwind until first light,” Derrek answered, the shadows sloughing from off his shoulders as he fell into step alongside her. “You were safer there than you are in Dovewood.”
“No,” Aylin casually countered. “I refuse to be kept from my home because Lucius thinks he can take over Embris while I’m not looking. Have you seen anything from him since we last encountered him when he interrupted the tea with Lady Harlowe?”
“Lady Gregory!” The butler she had grown up with moved out from the manor house, striding towards her with haste. “M’lady.”
“Carson?” Aylin joined him, watching as Derrek melded into the shadows once more from the corner of her eye. “What is it?”
“M’lady— Your uncle awaits you in the drawing room. He is...” Carson steepled his fingers together. “Most anxious to speak with you. I’ve told him that you hadn’t arrived back from Stormwind, and we weren’t sure when you would arrive, if at all. But I’m afraid he’s insisted.”
“I’ll deal with him, Carson. And thank you.” Aylin placed a hand on the worried Carson’s arm before slipping past him. Aylin continued to the house at the same pace she held with Derrek.
As she reached the front door, she pushed the door in.
Moving through the foyer, she unclasped her cloak which revealed her riding outfit. The heels of her boots clicked on the stone below her as she headed towards the room that held her lord uncle, and, when she reached the door, Aylin drew to a stop.
The breath that she didn’t realize she had been holding finally escaped her lungs. Green eyes stared at the dark stain on the wood door, hand waiting on the handle, before she finally elected to enter the room.
“Uncle. I heard you wished to see me. I’ve only just arrived from Stormwind.” Aylin spoke evenly, meeting her uncle’s gaze straight on.
“I know where you’ve been, and whom you’ve been meeting with,” Lucius spat at her. Even from across the room, Aylin could tell he had lost himself to libations again.
She continued to meet his gaze, unyielding as her head tilted slightly.
“Well, what can I do for you then, Lucius? I’ve had a long ride home, and I’m rather disgusting from mud and swe—” The tumbler shattering against the floor gave her pause, causing the woman’s words to falter on her tongue.
“Damn it, Aylin! After all I have done for you!” Lucius stormed around the sofa he stood in front of to come face-to-face with Aylin, taking her chin firmly in hand. Aylin remained still, not moving or fighting away from his grip.
His breath was rife with the putrid stench of the alcohol that flowed through his veins, and it caused her stomach to roil as Aylin fought to not retch before the man.
“... I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t find out about my own family, Lucius. How you sent them out and murdered them, one by one. Even your own sister,” Aylin growled, voice low and thick with malice. “You were foolish to think I wouldn’t find out. One day, eventually.”
The truth hung like a death sentence in the air between them, igniting a storm within his eyes. It earned a slow grin, one that parted to usher forth a quiet, hollow chuckle.
“The littlest dove finally figured it out.” Lucius raised his hand, his knuckles cracking against the skin of her cheek. “Tell me, my little dove. What finally gave me away?” Lucius stood over her like a starving dog being teased with meat.
“Does it matter? I overheard you plotting.” That earned her a kick to her stomach, which caused her to wheeze out a breath. Her eyes went blurry, welling with tears she willed away. “I heard you talking about how Embris would be fully yours if you could just get rid of me. But you needed a plan. It couldn’t look suspicious.”
Another kick. Another harrowing gasp for breath.
“Such a clever little dove,” Lucius purred, bending down to grab her by the fist full of hair. “And now we will. I’ll set the manor ablaze. They’ll think you died in your sleep, your lungs covered in smoke. And who would ever think otherwise, hm? They’ve all fallen victim to my praise.”
Aylin fought against him as he drug her towards the fire.
“No!” Aylin choked out, struggling away from him finally. “You don’t get to do that to me too!” She rushed to the door, determined to get away from the traitor in the room. “I’m riding to Stormwind to tell them what you’ve done.”
“No you don’t, little dove,” Lucius snarled, snatching her wrist to spin the woman around. He pinned her against the wall, forcing her to face him as his index and thumb again collected her chin, jerking it skywards so she could bear witness to her would-be killer. “You don’t get to dictate this now. I do. And I am in con-trol.”
It took all of her strength, all of her courage, all of her vengeance to grab the knife that mirrored one of Lucius’ own. She stole it from the band of her pants and let adrenaline do the rest, holding it horizontally and driving the blade through his ribs while the serrated edge tore through the cartilage.
She pulled it out, and pushed back in. Again. And again. And again.
Tears sprung forth as she watched realization wash across his sweat-slicked features.
Tears for the uncle she had onced loved.
Tears for the man she thought she knew who dropped to the floor like a used toy cast aside.
Aylin sobbed openly, staring down as the blood on her hands dripped from the knife to the body at her feet.
“M’lady?!” A feminine voice called out, the door flying open as another entered the room. “M’lady!” It was Anna, her most favorite maid and confidant.
“Anna. He— H-he attacked. He was out of his mind. I-I-I t-tried to leave an-and h-he grabbed me. He was going to kill me!” Aylin cried to Anna. “I was just trying t-to protect myself… I didn’t m-m-mean to kill him Anna!”
“It’s alright, my lady, it’s alright.” Anna was gentle, leading Aylin away from her uncle’s corpse. “Just… Just stand here, and let me fetch you something to wipe your hands, my lady.” Anna moved from the room quickly.
Aylin crossed the threshold of the drawing room, turning her back on the traitor still bleeding out behind her. She headed to the front door, swiftly collecting her riding cloak before escaping out into the yard, her feet moving of their own volition to close the distance to the stables. All of the grooms had retired for the evening, leaving the woman to her own devices.
That was a good thing. A lucky thing.
Aylin collected the tack from the tack room, and began tacking up in the dim light from the torch attached to the wall nearby. The blood on her hands made things slick, but finally the horse was bridled and saddled. She moved to the mounting block and with a tiny hop, swung up and over the horse. A click of her tongue against the roof of her mouth urged the steed to the barn door, and a harsh kick spurred Trigger into a steady gallop.
“AYLIN! AYLIN!” She could hear Derrek yell after her.
But she had a long ride, and no time for answers.
She was riding to Kestramere, to Lady Harlowe, to freedom.
{ Mentions: @annaliseharlowe }
