<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'"><span style="font-size: 18px"><a class="username" data-user-id="17" data-username="@Deviance" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/17/">@Deviance</a></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 18px">"You sit there in your heartache, waiting for someone to save you from your old ways." </span></span>​</div><span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'"><br/>
The pits of Criot were well-known to the citizens of the Gustavia Empire. From commoners to the highest nobles that the empire has to offer; any and every kind of man or woman enjoyed to attend the famous fights and the horrifying bloodshed – which was somehow amusing to witness. People were fascinated by the act of violence. By the action, fear and horror that the pits brought with them – especially when one of the most famous gladiators was to enter the arena once again. <br/>
<br/>
Duchess Meleya Gilian, née Froste, wife to duke Aeron Gilian II, was one of the few people that did not find the excitement of the pits to be truly entertaining. She had never understood the idea behind delightful massacres, but unfortunately she was the only member of the family that had a different opinion about the matter. Her husband loved the fights in the pits of Criot and so did his son. <br/>
<br/>
Toffner Gilian III, the red-haired, freckled young man that was seated at the right side of his dear father, was a brat. His behaviour was outstanding in the most negative ways, and the worst of all was that Aeron Gilian supported the boy’s demeanor with the proudest look in his eyes. Part of Meleya felt relieved that Aeron’s son did not resemble her in a single way and that he could obviously not be related to her. Another part of her felt humiliated by the fact that this unruly child of terror had been legitimized long before her marriage to the duke – and that upon the day that her husband would die, Toffner would inherit it all. Toffner Gilian III would become the Duke of Calanava and Meleya would have to obey him; a fact that she considered to be worse than the current position she was in. She would be send from a nightmare straight into the deepest hole of Hell. <br/>
<br/>
The dark-haired female did not enjoy the carefree life of the wealthy duchess that many would think she lived. Meleya lived like a dove in a small cage; she was there to witness it all, but she did not have the power to speak, let alone take action against those that tried to cause any harm. Her family had forced her into marrying the much older duke when she was merely sixteen, but what was supposed to be a girl’s wildest dream, turned out to be a living nightmare. The duke was old-fashioned, arrogant and ignorant. He cared more for his mistress, Toffner’s mother, than his very own wife. He did not wish to hear her speak during events, nor did he allow her to leave their home without him. Meleya was mere a statue besides Aeron – a pretty picture to show off. The fact that she was an educated, intelligent woman that had studied more books than her husband was possibly aware of, did not matter to anyone. She was a pretty woman – mere a pretty woman, and that was everything that she would become. <br/>
<br/>
Little did she know, that she would become so much more within a couple of hours. More than she had ever dared to dream about <br/>
<br/>
<i>“That’s all? That was the great Dowan Hess? I could have defeated this pathetic brute when I was but a boy!”</i><br/>
<br/>
That high-pitched, awfully smug voice ripped Meleya away from her very own thoughts and caused her to stare in disbelief at the disdainful young man that was seated just away from her reach. The words started to form themselves in the back of her throat and touched the tip of her tongue as Toffner rose from his chair and started to make his way down into the arena. Into that terrifying arena, where Dowan Hess roamed like the lion king. Even Meleya could feel how her muscles tensed up in a sudden.<br/>
<br/>
“Your Grace, I…” Before the duchess could even consider to finish her sentence, Aeron cut her off with a stern glance.<br/>
<br/>
“You are not to speak in public unless you are asked to, Meleya.” <br/>
<br/>
She did not waver. She did not even blink. The lady simply pursed her lips and returned her gaze to the giant pit, where her husband’s son appeared to grow more enraged as the seconds passed by. It was not until a furious Toffner Gilian III demanded to be anounced as Dowan Hess’ newest opponent, that the face of the duke slowly started to grow more pale. She could sense how nervous he suddenly started to become as the crowd cheered in approval and screamed regarding to their desire for blood. But Meleya did not speak. For once she obeyed Aeron and remained silent.<br/>
<br/>
She remained silent enough to hear Toffner’s screams and cries pierce through her ears as the much more experienced gladiator tormented him in front of an entire crowd. Bone by bone, muscle by muscle and vein by vein. The powerless, pathetic nobleman was being slaughtered until there was nothing left of him, and even then, the duke finally managed to come up with a loud, yet unconvincing protest.<br/>
<br/>
“Have mercy for my son, for he is a nobleman and a master of slaves! A brute does not have the right…!” <br/>
<br/>
Swish.<br/>
<br/>
Meleya bowed her head as soon as the head was being separated from the body, but not because the scene was too gruesome for her to witness. She bowed her head to hide the weak smile that threatened to curl around her lips as she listened to her husband’s cries and pleas that were of no more use, and for the first time in her life, she understood the meaning of enjoyment regarding to the bloodshed in the pits of Criot.<br/>
</span><br/><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'">*** <br/>
</span>​</div><span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'"> “I did not think you would wear a gown for mourning.” <br/>
<br/>
The trip in the carriage back to the duchy of Calanava had been long, silent and extremely tense. After this public disgrace and the loss of his one and only son, Aegon Gilian appeared to be so out of touch with his surroundings that he even seemed to warm up to the wife that he has misused and neglected ever since their wedding night. He even allowed her to pour him a fresh cup of red wine and he appeared to appreciate the fact that Meleya had changed her clothing. While she had been wearing green in the morning, she was now wearing a black gown with long sleeves. Everything seemed to be the smallest gestures of kindness. The little details that showed appreciation and respect towards the duke and his deceased son.<br/>
<br/>
“I shall mourn today, for it is painful, but not everlasting. We shall move on.” The tone in her voice started to change. The ever so amiable, sweet voice carried a subtle hint of disdain as she spoke, but the duke was too caught up in his own thoughts to be aware of it. <br/>
<br/>
“He has never been fond of you, Meleya, which is understandable. Perhaps this could have been prevented if I had just been able to marry his mother instead.” Aegon paused, but the female did not flinch. “But I believe you are right. We shall mourn today, but we will move on. There will be a lot to consider, for Toffner was my only heir.” <br/>
<br/>
This time she could not hide her grimace, and she stared at the glass of wine that Aegon had been sipping from. The glass that she had refilled numerous times with the same red wine. That red wine, that had been blended with a most dangerous liquid that Meleya had learned to make. <br/>
<br/>
“Do trust me, Your Grace, when I say you will not need a new heir.” She furrowed her eyebrows as she rose from her seat, preparing to leave the dining room – but not before she took the empty glass from the duke, along with the empty bottle of wine. “I have taken care of the situation already.”<br/>
<br/>
With the bottle and Aegon’s wine glass in both hands, she walked out of the room. It was not difficult to get rid of the evidence; after breaking the glass and having one of the duke’s slaves clean it up and take it away from the home, all Meleya had to do was wait. Wait for that expected, shocked scream as one of the ladies brings in the dinner that the duke had ordered; stuffed turkey with a pepper sauce, along with several types of vegetables and potatoes. In the meantime, the dark-haired female arranged a meeting.<br/>
<br/>
“Find the owner of Dowan Hess and tell him that my husband wishes to buy the gladiator in exchange of a fair amount of gold. Make sure that he takes the slave with him – the arrangement shall be made as quickly as needed, and the presence of the gladiator is required upon arrival. He is to come at anytime, as soon as possible.” A letter had been written and a letter had been signed by Meleya herself, and everything was settled as soon as the rider took off to inform the slave master of the sudden interest.<br/>
<br/>
And as if she could hear her wedding bells again, the scream that the duchess had been waiting for followed as soon as she was about to retreat to her chambers. The wine that she had been giving her husband during the entire afternoon, had finally created the result that she could not have been hoping for. <br/>
<br/>
“Madam! Your Grace!” The desperate cry of a female was the sign for Meleya to storm towards the dining room, and to cling to the wooden doorway as soon as she caught sight of her husband. Aegon Gilian II, duke of Calanava, looked like he had choked on a mixture of his own vomit and blood, that was now trickling down his chin and staining his luxurious clothing. His expression was rather horrendous, and although his death did not even cause the slightest shiver for Meleya – she did turn away from the disgusting scene as soon as possible. Tears started to form in the corners of her eyes as she covered her mouth with her left hand.<br/>
<br/>
But these were tears from relief, and an attempt to hold back a scream out of comfort. She did not even feel the arms that wrapped around her in an attempt to support her as she collapsed to the marble floor while she sobbed. She cried and whimpered like a young child and while it was believed to be grief or a very good attempt of acting – it was all reassurance.<br/>
<br/>
The little dove had freed herself from her cage, and the sudden consolation that –that managed to give her, could not be described by words. Her emotions were outspoken, but misplaced by many. That emotional reaction that even managed to overwhelm Meleya herself, would most likely be the key to safety. <br/>
<br/>
For now.</span>