Bonds That Tie Us

Prologue

The blood would stain.

It had already dried and caught beneath her fingernails, as she assessed them. The already rusting and deep red colour that tainted her.

She'd deal with that later.

Later, she kept reminding herself, as she looked up to eye the limp body before her.

She frowned at it- at him. The old bastard had drowned in his own blood.

Good.

It had taken her a moment to subside the horror and shock of what had happened.

And after glancing around his personal study, she realised that no one would know. No one would ever know of her visit tonight. That she ever stepped foot in the Lords Manor estate.

The doors were all shut. No house maids or servants had seen her come in through the window, by the balcony. There was silence as she looked at the phramed family portrait on the far wall. It was an old portrait, dated back several years, where the Lord stood smiling brightly, with his wife, two Sons and one daughter. None of the children smiled, as they stood beside their parents.

Odd indeed.

Pity, that the old man would never see his family again.

She turned away from the portrait, to see the blood had pooled around the big, un-breathing Lord.

As well as her own hands, and her disguise.

She'd worn her Fathers tunic and mens slacks, also his. It made scaling the side of a Manor much easier than in a hoopskirt, for she was not accustomed or used to such...activities as she had partaken in tonight

Yet, her lack of clothing, did not prevent the rich blood from staining her tunic deeply.

She'd have to throw it out- perhaps burn it, unless she wanted her family to die of horror, at the sight of a bloodied tunic.

Deciding it was wiser to clean up and burn her attire, all together, she rose to her feet and noticed the glass fountain pen she'd used to rip open his jugular.

His own pen, of course.

It, like everything else surrounding her, was covered in blood. So with a sigh, she reached down and pocketed the thing, just as she heard footsteps scurrying from outside the study.

And for the first time tonight, her heart raced, at the idea of getting caught.

Which was not an option. No, she thought to herself, as she bolted for the window.

And she was halfway out, into the cool night, as the air brushed against her damp, soaked skin.

Scanning the grounds, and deeming them somewhat clear, she moved, gripping the pipework against the far wall, and lowered herself in the darkness.

And before she ran for the gates, the young woman tugged on her hood and smiled to herself as she fled.

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