Killing On Command

Chapter 4

For the remainder of the day, Grogg insisted on the girls being escorted back to the inn while he went on a hunt for a new suit. Alex didn't complain to the idea, seeing as she'd probably get another few hours with Zack before she was carted away to mansion later that evening. Scarlotte however, was sour about it for the rest of the day, feeling like she'd missed out on something. Of course; Alex knew that she only wished to go with their father, as Philip, the handsome man who owned the most popular Tailor's in town, admired her in the most sick way for a married man to do so.

It felt strange being back at home and wearing such an eccentric dress. She felt way overdressed for just lazing around in her room, but she was grateful for Grogg letting her wear it out of the shop, seeing as she wouldn't be able to lace it up by herself, and she didn't trust her sister enough with the job. She was writing (quill in hand) when she heard a knock at her bedroom door, which startled her some.

"Come in," She called softly, her hand still moving to form the beautiful lettering on a fresh piece of parchment in black ink. She heard the door open, and knew who had entered the room without having to look back. Zack's distinct footsteps told her that he was feeling down, as his toes were scraping against the wooden floorboards.

"Evening, Xan." He greeted sadly. Alex turned around, placed her quill into a pot of ink and stood up. At first glance, she noticed how different he looked to the previous night. He looked a little rough; a black eye and a few cuts on his face, but that was the usual look for him. He was more of a fighter than many of the people she'd met before, and she'd expected nothing less from him. It didn't make her stomach flip in worry though, nor her head ache from wondering what had happened, or even her heart thumping as she saw her best friend hurt. She knew that he could look after himself.

She also noticed that he was dressed differently than usual; in a shirt and a waistcoat with a pair of fine trousers and shiny shoes. On his shirt were a few splatters of blood, presumably from his lip or nose. He looked very handsome, although she would never have the guts to say it to his face, and despite his bruises and cuts, it was almost as though he had come from a well respected family such as the Millers. He had even tried to comb his hair into something more neat than the usual mess he adorned on his head. it was combed over to the left and out of his face, and showed his face better than the usual mess did.

"Zack, what in God's name has happened to you," She asked, rushing forwards and cupping his fragile face with one of her small hands. He smiled weakly and placed a hand on her cheek. His skin was warm against hers, and she could almost feel her heart thumping through her chest. His eye could barely open, and it looked painful, but she'd seen worse on him. 

"My father didn't seem to like something I said last night, can you tell?" He asked sarcastically. Alex quickly shut the door, to eliminate the risk of nosy twin sisters from overhearing their conversation. She could almost feel his pain, although Grogg had never laid a hand on either herself or Scarlotte.

"What did you say to him?" She asked, forcing him to take a seat and finding her nearest store of bandages and some brandy which she kept under her bed. She hated to see him hurt, and she felt bad for it whenever she did. Even if she had nothing to do with it.

"Looks like someone made you into a Gothic mannequin at Garim's earlier-"

"Stop changing the subject!" Alex exclaimed, sitting Zack down on her bed and doing so herself opposite him after grabbing a damp cloth to clean his cuts. She took one of his hands in her own and looked him dead in the eye before dabbing the cut above his eye with the warm cloth. "What did you say?"

"I-" He started. Alex noticed a flush to his cheeks as he struggled to get his words out. "I told him that I wouldn't marry who he wanted me to. That he didn't rule my life and that I could easily leave and find a wife who would be willing to keep me, no matter what I was like." He told her. He looked down at their hands, stroking her soft, pale hands with his thumb and concentrating on them. "He beat me until I apologized, then told me that I wasn't to leave the 'smith again today."