The Serpent's Enigma

41 | The Scarlet Woman - Part I

The title for the Crown Prince/ss or the Heir of Angletonia; "Prince/ss of Emraullt". In England it's like "Prince/ss of Wales". The title currently belongs to Junior.

(Italics are for flashbacks.)

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.

Later that day, Cal rode home in a great mood. He had left the delightfully dishevelled Olivia behind a ruined statue of a mythical southern god; taking satisfaction from the fact that it'd take some time for her to recondition herself and ride home.

Such a pleasant afternoon.

"Nice job, Cadence!" He lightly ruffled his horse's shiny ginger mane before they continued to gallop home, along the flowery field that was still lightly touched by snow. He was feeling wonderful today and he intended to make the most of it.

As he marched towards the palace complex, he suddenly heard the sound of a fight. As he approached the source of the noise he saw what appeared to be a young girl being harassed by a drunk.

"Let go of me!" She struggled to pull the end of her cloak out of the man's grasp. She waved her hand in the air. "I'm going to hurt you, I mean it!"

The drunk cackled as she attempted to strike him with an empty-hand. "Why so mad? I've just agreed to cover for ya! Yer gonna be dead once I told 'em bout the wicked thin's ya did in the woods! Now be a nice lil' lass an' show a gentleman some gratitude!"

The scene itself made Cal's blood boil and he rushed his horse to the spot.

"Anyone who lays a hand on a lady has no right to call himself a gentleman!" He growled in fury, causing the two to snap their heads up in his direction.

The girl raised her head up to look at him, but Cal couldn't see her face clearly past the hood of the big cloak she wore, though she was visibly squinting her eyes from the sun behind his head.

"Are you alright, Miss? Shall I beat this loser up for you?"

"Shu' up, pretty boy. If ya seen some heinous thin's she did, ya'll agree that this freak deserves some poundin'!" The man lunged at her once more and Cal quickly hopped down from his horse to put himself between them before delivering a couple of good blows to his face. The man tried to fight back, but he was drunk and he was no match for Cal.

"To hell with ya!" he scampered off into the field, defeated.

Only when they were left alone could Cal finally take a good look at the person he had rescued. Or at least her clothes, as her face was still hidden. She was wearing a striking, blood-red dress under her big, dark cloak; though in some parts the crimson shade of her skirt was fading, it didn't look like a peasant's dress. In fact, it looked like something the aristocrats in the nineteenth-century would wear.

She stood still in the same spot, unflinching.

He extended his hand. "Are you okay?" She tilted her head, but it was hard to guess her emotions with most of her face hidden under the shadow of her hood. "It's alright, I am not going to hurt you."

"...No, you won't." She muttered in a small but a steady voice. There was a slight accent in her voice, but he couldn't figure out which language did it come from. "You just saved me. Thank you."

Cal gave her a kind smile, ignoring that nagging feeling that something seemed off with her. He had just saved a lady, how bad could it be? "If you want, I can give you a ride home. Where are you staying?"