Redfork Menace

Grit

{I usually write these when I get off work and sometimes I'm soooo tired the editing could use work haha. But I try to fix anything I see right then so sorry if there's errors!}

In her room, Shanda paced. She had been pacing the better part of two hours. She was mumbling to herself as she did so. It had been days. Days of avoiding the heir of Raventree and days of wishing she'd get over herself and talk to him. He'd given her the space which was nice and maddening.

"Get a grip. Just wait until... but then..." On and on she went.

The storm had died down and her room was stuffy and humid. Despite the continued rain, she threw the window open. Breathing the cool fresh air in, she relished in the breeze. Her dress was wet with sweat and she failed to wipe the sweat out of her eyes. Her arm was just as coated, the two slick surfaces just gliding across one another. She was losing her mind. Or she had already lost it, she couldn't decide. The bottom line was the man accusing her of attempted murder and who had inadvertently signed her death warrant, shouldn't make her stomach flutter with a thousand butterflies.
   Her door flew open, the man of the hour walking in looking concerned before he spotted her by the window, sweaty and sullen.

"What, is opening a window illegal now?" She asked, looking at her hands trying to seem disinterested.

"It is when you threaten to scale the castle walls that way."

"So you've been spying on me?"

"You're a wanted criminal my-" He had paused abruptly, remembering at the last second not to call her lady. "My sweet baby." He'd winked then. And she had grown red in the face, irritated with his continued open flirting.

"Your mortal enemy. Your darkest rival."

"Is that your way of saying you'd like to roll around in the mud again? Because I will oblige if so."

"Ugh!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up and turning away from him. Maybe he would just go away if she ignored him.

"Do you want to go outside?" His voice was right behind her suddenly and she jumped, startled.

Of course she wanted to see something other than the stuffy four walls that she'd been looking at. But it was the principle of the thing. She didn't want him to be nice to her and offer to take her outside, that's not how you treat prisoners. That much she knew. Without turning around, she replied.

"Am I allowed out now? I am a wanted dangerous criminal after all. Might not be safe to let me out on the prowl." She sounded childishly immature even to her own ears.

"You are definitely dangerous."

He reached around her to close the window. Letting his hands linger about her waist after he'd finished. She was holding onto the windowsill for dear life when he reached up and grabbed the back of her neck.

"You know, maybe some air would be nice." She shakily agreed, changing her mind.

Some air, some space, some fucking mental help. All of the above would have been greatly appreciated by her. She tried to imagine all of the bloody Bracken men she'd seen coming in with broken bones. Trying to summon the image of the man, standing entirely too close to her, committing acts of violence. Hoping to shock some sense into herself. Instead she just summoned the image of him covered in blood, eyes wild while he grabbed her. Coating her dress in blood before doing the same to her mouth... Get a hold of yourself! She scolded herself.
  She hadn't heard him if he'd said anything, just allowed him to lead her from the room; his hand was still on the back of her neck. Shanda had suitors before, more came and went every moon. They were boring, horrible boring men who never thought about anything interesting. Just more of the same, ledgers. Sure, counting and keeping track of records was important. But if she wanted to keep records she could stay home and manage that fine. She had records, heaps and heaps of boring records.
   What she hadn't had was a delusional man willing to shove her roughly against a surface and tell her sweetly all the reasons why she wanted him to. And now that she did, to say she'd been underprepared would be putting it lightly. Men were boring, they talked about boring things and had boring fights. Or they were bloodthirsty monsters with no redeemable traits. Benjicot was some odd third thing, psychotic definitely. But he was attentive, he noticed things about her she didn't even think about. True, he then tried to manipulate her using those facts, but she was finding she didn't care.
   That was why she'd let him lead her out of the room with hardly a protest. If he would give her a shot, she could get across the river. She felt absolutely sure of it. He was incredibly fast and had the home field advantage but if she didn't try now, she might not ever.
***
Stone Hedge was burning. Martyn was busy evacuating everyone, his lungs burned from inhaling the smoke. A nasty cough was developing in his chest and he wheezed every few inhales. He didn't know where Royce was, presumably in the stables calming the horses. But he'd seen his father out first when the fire started. It was still unclear as to what started the fire but it had raged. Luckily for them Stone Hedge wasn't named that for laughs and the castle hadn't burned. Unluckily for them it had been the people and furniture that burned.