Frozen to the core, Soraya watched some pebbles she had just kicked loose falling down the chasm. The deafening storm whipped her wet, black hair into her face and her clothes were soaked.
This was it... the end of the line. No place left to run.
From the beginning, Soraya had hated everything about this journey. The princess had always know, that she had to marry someday to forge an alliance with another kingdom, since their laws forbade her to become queen. The legal code did not explain why, just stated that while the crown had to be passed down by bloodline, no female could claim the throne. Her future husband however wasn't of her choice. He was neither ugly nor old, but she somehow didn't trust him.
By her own choice, Soraya wouldn't have travelled on her birthday but he insisted. The weather was just the final stroke to complete the disaster.
Straightening her shoulders, panting, Soraya turned around slowly to face her destiny. The demon was in no hurry. She was trapped, cornered by his brilliant trap. His face looked like that of an angel with wet, blond hair clinging to his shoulders and no doubt onto his back. His black robe, fastened by a broad leather belt, looked as heavy as hers, but it didn't slow his purposeful stride. Down his forehead, black marks had been tattooed, with the ink also covering his neck. Like every other higher demon, he was hardly distinguishable from men.
The princess, struggling for balance as the wind ripped at her clothes, wasn't fooled by his handsome looks or lean body with broad shoulders. After seeing him fight, slaughtering her men without uttering a word, there was no mistaking what he was. With a flick of his wrist, his swords had cut limbs and pierced hearts. Nobody seemed to be able to put up much of a fight. As he was approaching, he sheathed the twin sabers at his belt. Obviously she wasn't enough of a threat, just as the last of her men were not, so he left the cutting down of those foolish enough to try and fight back to the lesser demons accompanying him... The princess herself he could simply push down in the chasm. Lips pressed together, her shaking fingers fumbled for the little dagger in her belt. Not without a fight, she promised herself. A wailing cry stopped her dead when she was about to make her desperate attack. Was that her nurse, pleading for mercy? Tears stung in Soraya's eyes.
"Please put that away, princess. I don't want you to be harmed..." The demon spoke with a deep, melodic voice that vibrated through her body. His icy, blue eyes were set on her. They were cold, as if there was no soul in him. An unpleasant shiver ran down her spine. Facing him fully now, she asked:
"Why did you kill my men?"
Suddenly, the dead eyes where filled with deadly anger. He didn't reply, but turned his head with the burning eyes towards his men. "Who of them was careless enough to hurt you...?" he asked, the voice filled with steel. Again, Soraya shivered, but not out of fear.
"Hurt...?" she whispered and looked down on herself.
There was gash in her robe at her left shoulder, the rims stained red with blood. Slowly, she could see the stain growing and yet there was no pain. The young woman swayed in the wind at the sight of the blood but caught herself.
His men hesitated in their approach, when his head snapped around to her.
"Which one...?" he hissed, eyes glowing in the dark.
Her heart racing in her throat, the young princess looked around, until she saw a vaguely familiar face. Shaking, she extended a hand, pointing to a man with a bloody short sword in his hand. The demon leaped so fast, she could hardly see him moving. The blade was in his hand before his feet touched the ground again. His blade was a flash amidst the raging storm. The man froze and when the demon turned around to walk back to her, the man's head rolled onto the ground, just a heartbeat before his body fell. The same moment, the fire of rage vanished from his eyes again, leaving them just as dead as before.
A short whistle sounded and a horse neighed. "If you please, Princess..." he said whilst extending a hand that was as pale as hers. Soraya didn't have the courage to fling herself over the chasm, to her own death. Biting her lip, she threw herself at him with her dagger. She needn't have bothered. Her opponent caught her hand and wrested the small weapon from her numb fingers without hesitation, even catching her as she stumbled over the long hem of her dress. Defeated, the young woman let her head sink to his chest. She didn't want to look when he killed her but was surprised when he instead places his black cloak around her shoulders.
A moment later, she was lifted on her feet, seated on a huge black stallion's back. The demon mounted behind her, pulling her into his arms. His touch felt impersonal, as if she was leaning against a statue and yet the princess almost forgot how to breathe as she shivered in his arms, craving the slight bit of warmth radiating from his body. The smells of wet leather, fire and intense cinnamon smell rose to her nose.
The demon kicked his horse into a gallop. Despite the danger in riding at this speed in such weather, the stallion sped over the land with no difficulty. They sat in silence, for the young woman was in shock after witnessing her men being killed. Time passed and as night fell, they rode over a bridge and through an iron gate.
Soraya didn't have the opportunity to take in all of the huge, dark structure in. Even if he still didn't seem in hurry, the demon lost no time before sliding down the horse, handing the reins over to the stable boys. As if she weighed nothing at all, he picked her up from the horse and let her slide into his arms, but didn't put her back on her feet. With the same purposeful, long strides he carried her into the stone building, through a hall and up several stairs. His destination was a well-lit room in an upper story. A merry fire burned in the fireplace which was surrounded by servants hurrying around, but there was no other source of lighting. Several sconces held unlit candles.
"The bath is almost ready, Lord." informed one of them, a young woman apparently in her mid-twenties, with a merry, freckled face. As all the servants, she wore a short robe and trousers in dull colors.
"Get the midwife..." he replied, shortly.
"Yes, Lord..." she answered and hurried out of the room.
Just then, the demon put her back on her feet, holding her gently by the shoulders. By now, the black cloak he had given her was soaked as her dress. He pulled the black garment from her body, placing it in the arms of another servant. Soraya flinched when he drew a dagger from his belt, closing her eyes. But... no pain followed. She only heard silk rip, as he cut through the belt holding the robes that made up her dress. Layer upon layer of wet silk he pulled off her, easily pushing away her hands. When she stood there in her under robe of white, now transparent silk, she instead tried to cover her breasts, holding the robe there. For a moment there was a glimmer of slight annoyance in his eyes, but seconds later, the princess wasn't sure if she had ever seen it.
"Wet clothes will make you ill..." he said quietly as he pushed her arms apart.
"What do you care?!" the girl shouted, making the remaining servants flinch.
His fingers were still warm against her skin, sliding under her collar and continuing to undress her despite refraining from answering. Slowly, the demon peeled off the damp cloth from her cold skin, ignoring her as she tried to cover herself. No matter how gently he worked around the wound or how many goosebumps his touches produced, there was still no expression his eyes. Soraya's breath fastened slightly as he stroked over her shoulders, his eyes locked on her body. Finally, the robe fell. A final tug on the loincloth and she stood before him, again trying to cover her nakedness with her arms. Her wet hair, that usually covered her down to her hips, wasn't of much help now. Slowly, he turned around, taking a towel from one of the nearby servants and wrapped it around her, leaving the shoulder - and the still slightly bleeding wound - free.
"My Lord..." the freckled servant girl announced, when a woman with graying hair entered the room "the midwife..."
Besides the color of her hair, it was hard to guess the entering woman's age. She strode over to them and the demon stood aside. She as well forced the struggling princess to display her body, so she could examine the wound. After a long look and some probing touches to the skin next to the cut, she faced the demon.
