Crimson & Clover {OC x GUTS} Berserk

3. A Change In Plans

Marcella made her way towards her quarters shedding her gown into a tall planter. It would make for a nice surprise for the gardener whenever it would resurface.

She slipped on a hooded cloak and made her way out through the rose garden, past the entrance to the crypts where the Bakiraka lurked, and into the street that led to Julius's manor. The same street he must have taken each time he came into her room, abusing her voicelessness.

Among poisons, the Bakiraka taught the princess many other skills, climbing was another. She made her way up to Uncle Julius's balcony, imagining what she would say if he were to catch her before she could empty the vial into his bed-time tea.

Shh. Focus. Climb.

Her thoughts raced as she peered through the glass paneled door to find Julius speaking with her nephew's caretaker.

Adonis. Oh, how I hope you do not grow to be like your father.

When the caretaker exited Julius's chamber, Marcella slowly opened the door, staying low and making her way to the balcony where she could drop the poison from above.

And then she saw him. Or rather, she saw the sword from two days ago. The sword belonging to the man she had wished would strike Julius down then and there in the gardens.

The man slashed Julius before he could even properly arm himself. The man looked at Julius as if he knew all of his sins. He was disgusted as Julius reached out to him.

It set in. Julius was dead. She didn't even need the stupid poison. The door to Julius's chamber opened and a small voice called out. She panicked, feeling the need to disappear and do so quickly. As Marcella made her way back out to the balcony she heard a small grunt escape Adonis's lips. She didn't even need to look to know what had just happened.

You'll never turn into your father...

Once her feet connected to the ground, she ran. She ran and ran. Not even in the right direction. Tears poured from her eyes as the night air whipped around her thinly clothed body.

He was dead. He would no longer torment her.

But, why? Why could she not escape his touch? Why was his hot breath all she could smell? Her back, where he pinned her down all those times, ached. She ran because even though she had just watched as Julius had been slain, she felt as if he would reach out and grab her at any moment. She felt he would grab her and force himself upon her right here in the street.

She ran until she reached the barracks where Griffith's men stayed. She saw the man with the sword, disheveled and covered in shit from Wyndham's sewers. The sewers that served the nobles... and the castle... And you know what? No matter how royal they all were, shit still smelled like shit.

But here he stood, alive. Alive and covered in shit while Julius bled out on a stone cold floor.

Good for you, swordsman.

Marcella wanted to run to this man and thank him. She also wanted to slap him for stealing her kill, for taking the satisfaction of redeeming herself for being so weak and allowing her body to be violated.

Fuck you, swordsman.

That's what she was determined to do. She made her way toward the man with the intention to slap the noble shit right off his face. She stopped when a female soldier began to berate him. He didn't seem phased at all. Instead, he turned and made his way to the castle.

Marcella followed him as he made his way up the steps, only stopping when she saw Griffith with her sister.

Oh, Charlotte! Not him!