The only thing she remembers is blood, not even her own name.
Waking up in a strange house in a 'far-off' land, Arturia Pendragon cannot remember a single thing of her past life, luckily she is found just in time to be able to keep on living. With...
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"You are doing better." There was a bright smile on the male's face, as if he was relieved to see her rapid recovery.
She was currently sitting at the dinner table, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes trained on him. It had only been a few days since she had awoken in the cabin and she had noted that the other male had not returned since then. "Who was that man?" She asked, curiosity getting the best of her after she had suppressed it for many days now.
"What man?" Diarmuid looked back from the food in front of him, waiting to see what she said before he continued preparing the meal.
"Do not play me a fool; the other man who lives here."
"Ah," Diarmuid smiled again, "that would be my older brother; the Hound of Ulster—or Cú Chulainn."
The young lady took a deep sigh and stretched her arms, "And where has he gone?"
"He is with the Fianna." It was a short and quick response from the male's part.
She rested her elbows upon the table and then her head in her hands, "And what is the Fianna doing?"
"A hunt or something." He had shrugged.
"And why did you not join them?"
Diarmuid set down the knife and turned to her, "You love questions, I take it?" He was not mad, nor was he annoyed. "I had decided to stay behind. I thought it best to take care of an injured young woman like yourself. Now, do not take that to heart and say that I imply you are weak. I am not saying that at all. My honour as a knight limits me and when I see someone in trouble, whether female or not, I must help them."
She scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Alright," she grumbled.
"Look, Lady Guin,"—she had allowed the nickname for the time being—"I am very glad that you are going along rather well, but I feel it is our priority, after your recovery, to return you to your family. I am sure that your parents must be worried and your husband even more so."
"I am not married." She knew this because she noticed she lacked a ring around her finger, but then again it could have been stolen whilst she lay in the cold ground, her life slipping away from her. A chill ran down her spine and she suddenly had felt freezing cold again, her hands and feet dropping a few degrees and cold seeping into her skin. The fire a few feet from her was not enough to keep her warm.
She figured he had noticed the goose-bumps that formed on her white-bruised arms because he walked away from the food and had brought her a cloak from his closet. "It is not the best of cloaks but it will keep you warm." He spoke as he handed it to her.
She had taken it after eyeing it over and then mumbled a small 'thank you' in return to assure him that it was alright and that he could return to the food that he was making.
