Night at a Lost Carriage [Grelliam]

~Prologue~

A/N: Warning - Slightly disturbing sexual and mature content

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Long ago, a coachman sat at the carriage's seat, using his reins to lead the horses as they trailed through the dark forest. Even with a bright lantern at his side, the thick fog blinded him from the path that lay ahead. 

He wished that the fog would block his ears instead. That way, he wouldn't have to listen to the lovemaking going on inside the carriage. Each time he heard a moan of pleasure, he took a swing from his flask. With each gulp, the potent liquid burned his throat but he didn't care. It was his only source of hope at this point. But unfortunately, all it did was halt his shivering from the blistering cold. The moaning intensified, echoing into the night. 

The coachman tried to take another drink from his flask, only to find that it was completely empty. He grunted, harshly tossing the container in the direction of the dense trees as he cursed under his breath. 

Another moan emerged, making the coachman's blood boil harder than a whistling kettle on a hot stove. Shades of red spread from his peripherals. He could hear his own heartbeat exploding in his ears. He couldn't take it anymore. The coachman used the reins in his hands to whip the horses, making them go from a stroll to a trott.

He didn't ask to be the one driving the love of his life and her new husband to their honeymoon. In fact, he was simply assigned with it. He was certain that he was assigned with this task out of spite, to remind him that the woman he loved was married to someone else. 

It just made no sense. This woman may be royal, but she belonged to him. The only reason she was married to the man inside the carriage was because it was arranged by her parents. They claimed to genuinely love each other, but the coachman was certain that it was a lie they told themselves. Her parents had the arrangement all wrong. They failed to see that the coachman would respect her, and treat her much better.

He considered himself a good man. There was no reason he couldn't be the one to have her. He was certain that he should be the one who got to be inside her. After all, out of all the servants at the manor, he served her with the most enthusiasm.

The coachman whipped the horses once more, prompting them to pick up the pace. The sooner he dropped this newly wed couple off, the sooner he could turn around and return to the manor. The bride's parents and other servants may reside there, but at least he could go back to his room and have another drink in peace.

All the trees, the dirt path, the horses, and even the glistening moon in the sky appeared to sway back and forth in the coachman's drunken field of vision. Before the coachman knew it, he whipped the horses over and over, making them cry out as they were now galloping at full speed. As the carriage forcefully traveled over rocks, large sticks, and other numerous natural obstacles, its four wheels no longer touched the ground at once.

"Hey! Slow down, will you!?" Shouted the new groom, Cedric,  from inside the carriage.

But the coachman didn't slow down at all. Instead, a smug smile spread on his face. Cedric was suffering, as he should be. He had swiped away everything the coachman loved. The coachman gave the horses one more whip, not caring that the horses were sprinting at their limit.

"Christopher! You're going too fast!" Screamed Eleanor. 

Christopher, snapped out of his thirst for vengeance, blinked several times when he heard Eleanor's distressed voice. He knew that he should have realized that if he could feel the bumps in his own seat, then he was causing discomfort for the woman he loved.