The Unwanted Wedding

Chapter 21 Pot, Kettle, Black.

"A woman must know her place, but also know when to give a man what he wants and when not to. It is only a woman's nature to seek the freedom rebelion and sinful pleasure and justice when she pleases. After all, we did pick the ripest apple from the tree."

- Book of Encounters

Vincent 

I stood in the shadow, letting myself be digested by the blackness; my tricorn dipped low hiding my face.  I let the crowd stand before me; fellow agents, enemies undercover and other bystanders all donned in black from head to toe. Every single one waiting, for that tall figure to show up, the one called Maddux. I owe the bastard a knife to the back. Two years, two whole painstaking years, I was stuck in that godforsaken place. Hidden underground where no one can hear your screams and suffering. I absently absorbed all the cluttered arguing as we all lost patience, almost growing to violence. I absently noted a slim figure as he entered through the door, I didn't know why but there was something about the unremarkable stranger that bothered me. I shook my head, dismissing the distracting being from my mind. If Maddux was going to show up, I would grasp the chance to set my eyes on the fiend. I've met his brutish men, and his methods of gaining information. I would not soon forget ether. But at the end of my 'questioning' I had seen the shadow of the mad behind the curtain, he stood at the door, the blurring light surrounding him as it burst into the dark room. He was tall and looked heavy, almost cascading the doorframe. I wanted to see his face, I needed it. It was eating at my soul more and more each day since I was released. I needed to look at the man and know why they released me, why not kill me like so many others? Why keep me alive?

Once again, the presence of the unknown figure bothered me, very much so. What about this stranger made me so angry? He looked no different than any other here; he drew no attention by anyone but me. So what was it? The stranger seemed closer than before, as if he had moved closer. I could not see his face, but he seemed rather young, his body was stringy and unformed, there appeared no muscle on the runt. My body tensed with a weary warning for the scrap of the being, something about him was tormenting me. All of a sudden I was aware that the crowd had silenced, the whole room was soundless, not even the slightest breath was heard. If it wasn't for my own pulse reeling then I was sure I had turned to stone. I barely noticed when the unidentified figure came to stand next to me. It was the surprising scent of flowers that drew my attention. I glanced narrowly down at the individual, and noted something else. His clothes were familiar, very familiar. I opened my mouth to speak but another voice cut me off.

It was a low, deep sound. Like the grumbling of thunder amongst a storm of lighting. It sent shivers down my spine immediately; my body shuddered as if I was struck by an icy wind.  My heart began to pulse faster, fearing the eerie sensations of my body. I suddenly felt scared.  Unconsciously I hovered infront of the disobedient brat behind me; I felt thin hands clutch the back of my coat. "I'm here."  Those two words haunted out of the man standing front and centre.  The candle light hid his face in shadow, but I could see the grim smile. "I'm here, and there is nothing you can do. Nothing.  Dose it not burn to come so close yet fall so far away?" Many standing close to him took several steps back, forcing me towards the wall, flattening her against my back. But she stayed silent.  I slid my hands back to grasp her hips, my hands clenching in warning. 

His teeth were straight and almost unnaturally white. He wore a military looking uniform, his thick black jacket embraced three rows of polished gold buttons, collar high upon his neck. He wore sharp swords at each hip, and a decorative pistol. His breeches were made out of strong rich fabric, tucked into gleaming leather boots. A large hat blocked his faces as the clouds blocked the sun.  It was frustrating; I needed to see his face.  He looked like a man, in his late prime; his body was filled with strong muscle turning to fat. He was a tall dominating figure. I remembered how he filled the doorway. And the damage this man could do with one word. The room came alive with aggressive chatter. I grasped the opportunity of distraction.