Chapter 3

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I tasted blood and my whole body ached as I tried to move myself. I let out a loud groan. My head felt like it was on fire. While I had no idea where I was, I knew I needed help. I began to call out, "Help! Please help me! I'm hurt!"

I continued calling out until finally I heard quiet footsteps approaching. My vision was hazy, "Who goes there?" asked a booming voice.

"Monsieur, I've fallen. I think I'm hurt."

"What were you doing down here?"

"I don't know... I think I fell through a wall."

"Damn Giry," the voice muttered.

"Please help me," I cried as the pain throughout my body grew worse. 

Suddenly, I felt a pair of strong arms lift me off of the cold, rough ground. I laid my throbbing head against the man's chest as he carefully walked. 

I had no idea what was happening, and I was much more confused now than I had been before. I cried from pain, frustration, and so many emotions that were bottling up within me. 

"Please do not cry," the man's voice said dryly. I felt my body be set down in a soft bed. I couldn't open my eyes, fearing the pain of light being too much. 

"My trunk!" I shrieked.

"I will retrieve it," he replied. 

"I need my clothes!" I panicked.

"I will retrieve it," he answered, "Rest, Madame."

I laid still for a few moments, and sleep overtook me.


Later, I woke to the sound of the man's voice, "Madame, we need to clean your wound before it becomes infected." 

"Okay," I said quietly. I was still afraid to open my eyes as my head was still throbbing. I felt the man move toward me and take a cloth to the wound on my lip. I jumped when the cleaning fluid hit the wound, "Ouch!"

"It may sting," he replied. 

I took a deep breath and smelled dark, damp, musty air. I couldn't possibly fathom where I was. Finally, I opened my eyes slowly, and I gasped startled by who sat in front of me. 

"Hold still," he grumbled.

"My apologies, Monsiuer."

He continued dabbing at my lip with a damp cloth, and I did my best not to jump or scream from the pain. Internally, I was screaming. I watched the man gently dab at my lip and soak the rag in some cleaning fluid before returning it to my lip. 

He was gentle and kind despite the mild irritation he displayed toward my jumpiness. When he finally finished, he said quietly, "There. That should do."

"Monsiuer, I don't feel well."

"You took quite a tumble. That is-"

He didn't have time to finish before I leaned over the side of the bed and emptied the contents of my stomach onto the floor. I groaned and shuttered. I began to get chilled, and my teeth chattered as I tried to apologize for the mess I had made. 

"It's quite alright, Madame," he said gently with an undertone of disgust at the mess he would be cleaning up. 

I began to cry again, not understanding what was happening. 

Quietly, he whispered, "Please do not cry." It was much more gentle than the last time he had said it.

I laid my head back against the pillows and tried to calm myself down. "Thank you," I said quietly to the man wearing a white half-mask on his face.


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