Chapter Twelve

The wine and mead are brought out midway through the party and Arthur's stepfather is quick to indulge in massive quantities of it. His consumption of the drink only makes him more distasteful, and I excuse myself waving goodbye to Arthur, claiming exhaustion from all the dancing.

A woman collides with me as I move towards the door. "Oh, please, I beg my pardon," says an older woman with greying hair and a light grey dress.

I smile at the woman. "It was my fault," I insist, knowing I had been far too focused on how Amelie looks in her dress to be paying much attention to where I was going.

The woman smiles at me with warm eyes. "I am Mary Rold," she says with a small curtsy. "I am a friend of your betrotheds' mother."

"I am most pleased to meet you," I say looking for a way to continue back to my rooms.

"Would you share a drink with me?" she asks holding up two glasses filled with golden liquid.

"I am afraid I am about to retire for the evening," I say gently. The woman looks crestfallen and immediately I feel guilty. "Perhaps a quick drink," I say gently as I take the glass from her.

She takes a sip of her drink and I smile, lifting my own glass when Roger catapults between us, stumbling about drunkenly. My drink is knocked from my hand and the glass shatters spectacularly on the ground. I look at the sweet-smelling drink scattered all over the floor in dismay. It had smelled pleasant, and I didn't even get to taste it.

Roger stares blearily at me. "Whatcha doin' standin' in the way?" he slurs waving his cup about and sloshing an impressive amount of it on the floor beside my own drink.

Arthur swoops in and shoots me an apologetic look as he whisks his stepfather away and leads him from the ball, hopefully somewhere to sober up. I turn to Mary to find her gone in all the chaos. To be fair, I had wanted to be as far away from Roger in his drunken state as I could too.

Suddenly freed from my obligatory drink, Amelie and I head down the hall in silence accompanied by a single guard who looks incredibly put out about having to follow us back to my rooms, as opposed to staying at the ball. From the look of his rosy cheeks, he has already had a few drinks and the stagger in his walk makes it clear he will be useless at his post.

We enter my room, and I am surprised to find it dark. Amelie never lets the fire die down completely, especially since winter had begun to set in fully. The estate is impressive in size but incredibly drafty, only a warm fire keeps the biting cold at bay.

As the door shuts behind us, I immediately know something is wrong. Amelie turns and reaches for the door we had just passed through, but before she can pull it open, she is yanked away into the darkness. A scuffle ensues and the sounds of a fight are obvious.

"Amelie!" I call out as I reach blindly for her in the dark.

The drunk guard outside must have heard my desperate calls, for he blunders into the room. "Miss, are you okay?"

I turn to him in time to see a sword pass swiftly into his stomach and he falls to the ground with nothing more than a gurgle and a startled look. Cold steal is pressed against my throat, and I freeze.

"Hello," a sinister voice says.

"Who are you?" I demand with more confidence than I feel.

"The one sent to make sure you don't get your happily ever after," The voice laughs.

I swallow. His enjoyment only adds a whole new level of terror to the situation.

A candle is lit illuminating a scene of horror as the dead guard's blood puddles at my feet. My stomach drops as I spot Amelie laying deathly still on the ground, a pool of blood beneath her head and a huge man standing over her menacingly.

"Amelie," I whimper looking at her still form, and somehow that scene is more terrifying than anything these men could do to me.

I twist to see my attacker, and recognise the leering guard from a little over a week ago. He grins at me. "We are here to make sure your marriage to the Lord of Stacks does not go ahead."

I swallow and discretely try to reach for the knife Amelie had made sure I hid in all my dresses. I am jerked around and forced onto the day sofa and his terrifying grin tells me all I need to know about what he intends next.

I lash out, and kick him solidly in his manhood and he crumples to the ground with a curse. His partner lumbers towards me, the flickering candle adding unnerving shadows to his face. I step forward, pulling the knife from the hidden pocket in my dress and I sink it into his thick neck.

He blinks in surprise, and I let out a cry as sticky warmth coats my hand. I am grabbed from behind and thrown onto the floor, breaking a small flower table in the process. The door flies open, and William stands there. It takes only a moment for him to take in the scene and he pulls his sword from his scabbard, advancing on the leering man.

I am hauled to my feet and cold steel is once again held to my neck. This time it bites painfully, and I try to wriggle my arms out of his tight hold. But the man is so huge he is able to hold me off the ground easily with one hand pinning me to his body.

"George," William says quietly. "Let her go."

"I have a job to do," he says happily.

William's eyes dart to me and I am lurched forward. I slam my eyes shut, certain that the attacker has sliced my throat, but I find myself pulled into a familiar embrace as the dark-haired man falls to the floor, two daggers buried firmly in the back of his neck.

I turn to find Amelie holding me and I burry my face in her neck, relief so crippling in the way it floods through me that I cannot stop the tears from falling.

"Amelie," I say gripping at her desperately, trying to dismiss the image of her laying still on the floor.

William steps into the room and lights another candle before doing a thorough sweep to ensure the room is empty but for the three of us and the dead men. When he returns, he relights the fireplace and stacks it with wood until it roars once more.

Swiftly William rings the servant bell, and within minutes someone arrives. He prevents them from entering but sends them for Arthur. When the door closes, he guides us to the chairs by the fire, but I refuse to let go of Amelie and instead she settles me in her lap and continues to hold me close.

William takes the scene in silently, but his face is surprisingly gentle. He looks at his hands. "I am sorry I did not come earlier."

"We are grateful you came at all," Amelie says quietly.

"I could see how inebriated your guard was, but I was slow to decide to follow," he says quietly. He looks over the bodies strewn about the room. "It would seem that you two were well able," he says trying to lighten the situation.

Amelie nods. "They got us by surprise. I have no idea how long I was out for. If you had not come, who knows what those two men would have done."

"There was only one man left standing when I arrived," William says honestly.

There is a long pause, and I can tell Amelie is looking at my blood-soaked hand as they both realise what I had done. The arms around me tighten and I allow myself to relax in her embrace.

The door to my room flies open and Arthur stands agape at the sight before him. His eyes land on the three of us sitting by the fire and he strides over. His eyes roam William before they land on me, and he crumples to his knees as he takes in my blood-soaked dress and the cut to my throat.

"Most of it is not mine," I say quietly.

He takes in a deep breath. "For that, I am most greatly relieved." He glances over at William. "Please call the physician."

"I want the apprentice Harold," I say firmly, surprising myself.

"Harold?" Arthor questions.

"I prefer him," I reply. "I would like him and his mother to be my healers."

Arthur nods to William who heads for the door. "I would not deny you anything in this moment," he says taking my hand in his.

I have to fight to keep it there. All I want is to wrap myself in Amelie and have this awful night end.

He glances at the bodies around the room and frowns. "Three attackers."

"No," I say. "The man set to guard us, he came to help but the other two were quick to dispatch him."

Arthur nods. "I will see that his family is handsomely paid." He looks over the other two bodies and shakes his head. "Two men from my own guard," he says bitterly.

"It may be wise to have all nonessential staff sent away for the time being," Amelie says quietly. "Perhaps guests as well."

Arthur rubs his hand through his hair. "I agree."

"William and Amelie stay," I say firmly, unwilling to be parted for even a moment from the woman who holds me, and remembering the way William had inserted himself into the fight despite his obvious dislike for me. I am completely aware that he could have walked away and maintained innocence.

"William and Amelie stay," Arthur agrees without hesitation.

William, Harold and a woman who is obviously Harold's mother, enter the room clutching an assortment of items. They approach me and I shake my head.

"Check Amelie's head first," I say gesturing to the small pool of blood on the floor. "That is hers."

If anyone thinks it weird that I insist my lady's maid is seen to before myself, no one remarks on it. I watch closely as they inspect her, and reveal a swelling egg on the back of her head that must have split with the force of whatever caused the injury.

Harold's mother smiles at me and says in a thick but wonderfully melodic accent, "She is okay. Head wounds bleed profusely, and she has recovered from her bout of unconsciousness well."

I breathe a sigh of relief and find it increasingly hard to focus on anything going on around me, now that I am sure Amelie will be okay. The next few hours go by in a blur until finally I am in bed with Amelie beside me. The decision had been made at some point to move us into Amelie's room while the clean up happened in mine. Exhausted, I close my eyes desperate for sleep, but the flash of Amelie laying still in a pool of her blood flashes forward and makes my heartrate spike painfully in my chest.

I grip Amelie's hand and she squeezes back. "All is well," she says gently.

I nod, but knowing that, and successfully telling my brain to stop reliving what might possibly be the worst moment of my life to date is another thing. Amelie slips from the bed, and returns with a drink I vaguely remember Harold's mother giving her.

"This will help you sleep," Amelie says gently.

I sip from the cup and darkness immediately begins to seep into my vision. Before my head is nestled in the pillows once more, I am asleep.