<div class="floatleft">(http://rpgs.chrisbradleywriter.com/images/d/d4/Octavian.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Octavian Lucius John Augustus, Duke of Ynysia<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Castle hall<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Open, Evelyn.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>"No," he said when she made her request.  He did not find either her fear or defiance interesting - he had held enough people at the tip of a sword to know how they reacted, fear and defiance were common - but he found her concern for her servant interesting.  He held Evelyn's eyes.  "If you wanted more consideration than what I'm giving you, you shouldn't have insulted me and then ran after suggesting you're part of whatever is stirred up in this castle.  You had your chance to treat with me in a courteous and respectful way, but you chose petty insults and flight, instead.<br/><br/>"Your options are to either swear you will not run or I will carry you out of here, myself.  Well, not myself, one of the lads will do the actual lifting, but I'll leave your servant's body in a puddle of her own fucking blood with gut wound.  It'll take days for her to die, days of incredible agony, and it's likely that the people here in the castle will also have some very pointed questions for her, too, asked with tongs and a torch."<br/><br/>The man holding Mary reversed his knife and placed it over her belly, the tip digging in enough to bring a spot of blood up.  It was very clear that he would do it without a second thought.