Scars of a Man (darkangel76 & woegman)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: woegman on 08-07-2010, 21:14:53</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>woegman</strong> on <strong>08-07-2010, 21:14:53</strong>
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				Night was falling and sleep was calling in the kingdom of Avarelle, but in the small village of Bascot, beneath the watchful manor house of its noble lord, for some the day had just begun.&nbsp; Warrick's Triumphant Traveling Troubadours had made camp not a night before on the outskirts of town, and tonight was opening night.&nbsp; It was rare for a show like Warrick's to make it so far from the capital; smaller shows rolled through once or twice a year, but they offered little more than a minstrel or two, a juggler, and perhaps the preserved carcass of some legendary beast...but Warrick's was something special, something different.&nbsp; Here could be found the finest of traveling actors, the greatest acrobats, games and prizes galore, living specimens of ferocious foreign beasts, and most famous of all, a side-show of unique monstrosities from around the world.&nbsp; It was one such monstrosity that Irasco the barker cried out for now.<br><br>"'Urry, 'urry, m'luvs 'n gents, step right up 'n see th' 'orrible, th' terrifyin', the savage Scarred man!&nbsp; Born in th' lands of desert sands and howlin' winds, dropped from 'is mutha's womb into a pit o' razors, this monster uva man's a sight to be'old, a freak o' nature, a beast in 'uman form.&nbsp; Come see 'is skin, covered in th' crags uva&nbsp; million scars.&nbsp; Come see 'is muscles, bulgin', wit' primal brutality.&nbsp; Come marvel at 'is teeth, ground sharp as nails, at his 'orrifyin' roar.&nbsp; Come see th' barbarian at the gates, th' monster wut waits beyond th' kingdom's walls!&nbsp; Come see th' murder of a 'undred men or more.&nbsp; Step up now, step up!&nbsp; Th' shows about to start!"<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>darkangel76</strong> on <strong>08-07-2010, 22:51:13</strong>
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				Elizabeth laid in her bed unable to sleep, her long dark hair fanned out over her pillow. She’d retired early after the conversation she overheard between her parents had turned onto her and her future. They began discussing prospects, men they had in mind for her to marry, men of their choosing. The moment she heard them list off potential suitors, she felt her blood run ice cold. She couldn’t stand the idea of her parents choosing the man she was to spend the rest of her days with. It frightened her. Who would they pick? Would he be a gentle man? One who’d understand her? One who could love her? Surely not! Terrified of what was inevitably to come, she had to leave, clear her mind, figure out some way to alter events in her own favor. There was just no way she could go through with what her parents were proposing. She understood they were thinking of lineage, of fortune and status. As a noble of Avarelle, such things were common practice. But she hardly cared for such things. And she wouldn’t let it stifle her, prevent her from having the life she wished to live. Besides, wasn’t her own bloodline enough?<br><br>The moon had risen overhead, the silvery light streaking Elizabeth’s dark room with its pale shimmering rays. Swallowing, she sat up. She slipped out of her bed and walked over to the window, looking outside. The stone floor was cold against her bare feet. It was dark enough now and late. She could put the rough plan of escape into action, the one she’d thought up as she’d meandered to her room earlier that evening, for surely her parents and most of the guards would be sleeping by now. As she glanced out into the distance she could see a dim spot of light. The carnival. Yes, this time of year they always came around. Her parents always sneered at it, finding it to be low quality entertainment meant to amuse the lower class and those of dim wit. But it had always intrigued Elizabeth.<br><br>Smiling, Elizabeth knew exactly where she needed to go, where she could hide. At least, for now. She packed a few simple belongings into a pack and got herself dressed. She went for the simplest gown she owned so as to blend in better with the villagers. It would have to do. Grabbing her cloak and flinging the pack on her back, she quietly pushed open her heavy wooden door. Pulling her hood up to conceal her face, she cautiously entered the corridor outside her room and began to make her way along it and through the castle until she was finally outside. She was surprised at how easy her escape was going. She wondered how long it would take before she was missed and noticed to be gone from the castle, not to mention its grounds. All she could do was hope that it was after she made it to the carnival in the village of Bascot.<br><br>The air was damp and somewhat chilling to the bone as Elizabeth made her way toward the light of the carnival. As she wandered the streets of Bascot, she felt herself trembling a little. She hated to admit it, but she was frightened being away from the castle, the comforts of her home. But she couldn’t go back. Not now. She’d come too far. Setting her jaw and trying to let go of the fear, she continued to walk toward the sounds of the carnival, the sound of what she was sure was the leader of the rabble’s voice as it bellowed above the murmur of the on-looking crowd.<br><br>Elizabeth read the sign – Warrick’s Triumphant Traveling Troubadors. Biting down on her lip, she ventured closer. She’d always wanted to go to one of the carnivals and now she finally could. Plus, it was the perfect place to hide until she could leave Bascot all together, seeking out a life she hoped would suit her better. One where she could find love and happiness. It was a fairytale dream; she knew it. But that didn’t stop her from hoping, nonetheless.<br><br>“Come see th' murderer of a 'undred men or more.&nbsp; Step up now, step up!&nbsp; Th' shows about to start!"<br><br>Elizabeth caught the end of Warrick’s little speech. Smiling, she followed the crowd as it slowly milled toward this infamous beast of a man Warrick had mentioned. For some reason, she just had to see him, see if Warrick’s words were true. As she moved forward, she caught sight of some guards, making her already pale skin turn a ghostly shade of white. Gasping, she pulled her hood further over her head as a wave of adrenaline washed over her. Panicked, she began to push her way through the crowd until she finally came to a curtained off section. Scarred Man, the sign read next to the curtain. The very man the crowd was going to see. Taking a deep breath, she shoved the curtain aside and hid behind it. Trembling, she peeked out to see if the guards had noticed her, but they seemed too enthralled with what was going on, their anticipation of what they were about to see written all over their faces.<br><br>Elizabeth let go of the curtain and stood there a moment. It was dark behind the it; she couldn’t see anything. Suddenly, she realized where she was, that she wasn’t alone. Licking her lips she knew the supposed Scarred Man was there with her, behind her in his cage… or so she hoped. Swallowing, pale eyes wide, she slowly turned around.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>woegman</strong> on <strong>09-07-2010, 18:21:45</strong>
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				Performance time was nearly upon him, and he heaved a heavy sigh.&nbsp; Sitting alone in the dark of his cage, he mused about the people he would see tonight, the children he would terrify, the women who might feint, the men who, boasting of their own bravery, would turn and flee at the finale of his performance.&nbsp; He heard the barker's call, knew the part he was to play.&nbsp; An ignoble savage, a brute of the wilds, a terrifying monster.&nbsp; He knew he looked the part, sure enough.&nbsp; And by rights, Warrick had paid a pretty penny for him where other men would have left him to die in some slaver's cell.&nbsp; He should be thankful for having a place to live at all, even if it meant being paraded as a freak in front of others.&nbsp; At night, after the carnival, he was allowed a moderate bit of freedom, a small but comfortable wagon in which to sleep, and food that far exceeded anything he had been given as a gladiator, even occasional wine.&nbsp; But it was all such a far cry from what he once had...<br><br>His thoughts were interrupted as the curtain drew open, briefly.&nbsp; His head looked up cautiously - the barker was still riling up the crowd, so it wasn't yet showtime.&nbsp; Still, at nearly every venue, there would be one or two little ones whose curiosity couldn't wait for the show.&nbsp; He did as always did in such cases, and donned the part.&nbsp; His breathing dropped, becoming low, raspy, heavy.&nbsp; &nbsp;His face, already a horror, mangled itself into a ferocious sneer, his one good eye glaring with remembered rage, remembered pain.&nbsp; He pumped his muscles, making them twitch and jump, and he prepared himself to let loose a roar that would both startle the crowd outside, and send his intruder into a screaming run.&nbsp; He waited as the figure turned...and then paused, as the terrified, pale face of a young noblewoman came into view.<br><br>His breath caught in his throat.&nbsp; It had been a long time, a very, very long time, since he had seen a woman of such distinctive beauty.&nbsp; Unconsciously, the rage and fury he had been building for his performance slipped away, as he simply marveled at her form.&nbsp; Even covered as she was, evidently in disguise, she could not hide her slight curves, her milky skin, her dark hair.&nbsp; Warrick's was not a show that drew the better half of the world - people of money bought people like him, they didn't pay a penny to see cheap scares.&nbsp; And yet, he had no doubt that the girl before him was noble - that soft skin, untouched by a life of labor beneath a sun, unmarred and untanned by the elements.&nbsp; Something inside him, a memory, stirred.&nbsp; He rose, quietly as possible, from his stool, and gazed down at the girl for a long moment, his one good eye watching her as he moved...and then, with a grace and fluidity that even long years of absence could not erase, he bowed, flourishing carefully with a style of a courtier.<br><br>"M'lady," he spoke in a low, quiet grumble that, though rough, still had the refinement of years at court, "I do believe you have stumbled into the wrong tent."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>darkangel76</strong> on <strong>11-07-2010, 23:58:51</strong>
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				Elizabeth’s entire body was shaking as she let the tent’s curtain drop, hiding her from the view of the crowd, of the guards who were ready and wanting to watch the show. Trembling, she turned around as the sound of scuffles and rough breathing filled her ears. Oh god, it was the Scarred Man! He hadn’t left his tent, wasn’t yet displayed for the show!<br><br>Licking her lips, Elizabeth swallowed as she turned around. It was dark as pitch inside the tent, but her pale eyes could still make out a shadow. Squinting, she tried to focus on the blurred silhouette that stood only a few feet away from her behind what clearly appeared to be bars. A cage!<br><br>Elizabeth’s mind began reeling. She hoped she hadn’t angered the Scarred Man by bursting into his tent like she did, that she hadn’t surprised him. All the curiosity she’d felt only moments ago when outside and listening to the barker’s words was gone. Fear had replaced it. Wanting to back away, but terrified to move, she found herself thankful that the shadowy silhouette, the Scarred Man himself, was secured in his rightful prison. The barker called him a beast, a murderer. Surely it was best he was safe behind bars, bars that held him captive, kept him from harming more than he already had.<br><br>Suddenly, the silhouette went quiet. The sudden silence caused another wave of fear to wash over Elizabeth. And when he stood up and began his approach, she found herself wanting to scream out, to demand he stay put, to leave her alone. But she couldn’t find her voice. She was too paralyzed with fear to whisper let alone call out.<br><br>Pale eyes tearing, Elizabeth finally was able to make out the finer features of the Scarred Man’s face. He was monstrous, the beast the barker had made him out to be. <br><br>Elizabeth was about to scream out when the beast of a man bowed, making her hold her breath in total surprise. What was this?<br><br>“M’lady,” came a rough, gravelly voice. “I do believe you have stumbled into the wrong tent.”<br><br>Elizabeth’s blue eyes went wide at the Scarred Man’s unexpected words. He had the mannerisms and eloquence of the finest of noblemen, the most worthy of men she’d beheld at court. How was this possible? Was this a man or was this a beast? She found herself wondering, questioning the barker’s words. Her earlier curiosity slowly began to creep back pushing the fear holding sway over her body aside ever so slightly.<br><br>Without further hesitation, Elizabeth gave the Scarred Man a low and instinctual curtsey. One showing the utmost respect, giving him considerable honor. She kept her eyes averted to the ground, and not out of fear. It was out of habit when addressing any worthy male of nobility.<br><br>“I beg your pardon, sir,” Elizabeth replied, her voice soft and demure. “I apologize for the intrusion.”<br><br>Elizabeth rose from her curtsey just then, lifting her head so that her eyes could connect with those of the man’s who’d just spoken to her. The moment their eyes fixed on each others she felt a gasp get stuck in her throat, threatening to escape. She managed to hold it back and just let her eyes take in his features. He was truly hideous, a ghastly sight to behold. She could easily see why women, children… men… would cower in fear of him. Suddenly, she realized she was staring.<br><br>Embarrassed slightly, Elizabeth could feel her cheeks redden. “I’m so sorry,” she spoke. “I…” her voice trailed and she bit down on her lip. Feeling terribly for her rude behavior, she gave the Scarred Man another curtsey and turned as if she were going to leave the tent. But instead of running, she froze. She couldn’t leave. The guards were there. And she had made it her plan to hide with the carnival until they left Bascot. No. She had no choice but to stay. Glancing back at the Scarred Man, her expression pleading, she asked, “Can I hide here, sir? Please?”
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				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>woegman</strong> on <strong>14-07-2010, 18:45:14</strong>
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				Her curtsey was unexpected, and he was slightly dumbfounded by it.&nbsp; &nbsp;He had bowed to her himself as an act half of instinct, but more fueled by the fact that frightening a nobleman’s daughter could well add more scars to his already impressive collection…a fate he had experienced, more than once.&nbsp; She was the first to ever return the favor; the others had merely felt empowered, and mocked him for the beast he was in their eyes.&nbsp; None had ever known the truth behind the scars, and certainly none had ever bothered to return his courtesy.&nbsp; &nbsp;His shock silenced his tongue as she apologized, but his gaze was unfaltering as he watched her turn to leave.&nbsp; He caught the jerking stop as she reached the canvas edge of the tent, saw her body tense in apprehension, perhaps fear?&nbsp; Ah…he knew this dance well.&nbsp; She was fleeing something, or someone.&nbsp; She confirmed this as she turned back, pleading with him.<br><br>“Can I hide here, sir? Please?”<br><br>How long had it been since anyone had called him sir?&nbsp; His mind boggled at the thought of it – in truth, he had never expected to hear such niceties again.&nbsp; There was a time where he had been called that, yes, and with regularity and sincerity.&nbsp; That, though…was a long time ago.&nbsp; He looked at the girl again, at the pleading expression on her delicate face.&nbsp; It was no easy thing for a noblewoman to yield her pride, to beg the help of another.&nbsp; In all his years, he doubted that he had ever seen so strong an act.&nbsp; <br><br>His stiffened pose relaxed, and he strode forward, careful to remain as quiet as possible so as not to alert those outside the tent.&nbsp; He listened for the barker, found that he was only halfway through his round up.&nbsp; There was time, still.&nbsp; Reaching out, he grabbed the bars directly in front of the stool on which he would sit during the start of his act.&nbsp; These bars were not steel, as they seemed, but leaden, painted black to match the iron bars of the rest of his cage.&nbsp; With the ease that a thousand shows of practice had honed, his massive arms flexed, and the two bars bent nearly effortlessly.&nbsp; It was enough of a gap to terrify even the most hardened jailer who might happen to catch his show, a trick meant to sell his “escape” at the end of an evening’s performance.&nbsp; It was more than enough for the girl to pass through.<br><br>“Come inside,” he whispered hoarsely to Elizabeth, as he walked towards the back left corner of his cage.&nbsp; There, he pushed aside the straw that lined his stage, revealing a trapdoor that led beneath the cage, and to a crawlspace beneath the stage on which it was set.<br><br>“Hurry, m’lady,” he urged with a soft, throaty growl, “the curtains will be drawn soon.&nbsp; You can hide beneath the stage until the show is over, or you can leave through the crawlspace, which opens out into the rear of the carnival’s tents.&nbsp; If you choose the latter, I cannot promise that whatever or whomever you are running from won’t find you…but while here, beneath this stage…”<br><br>He paused, a sad smile playing at his lips.<br><br>“Here, no man will dare come close enough to find you,” he finished. <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>darkangel76</strong> on <strong>15-07-2010, 22:09:12</strong>
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				As the Scarred Man moved even closer, not stopping until he finally approached the bars of his cage, Elizabeth turned fully around to face him once more. Blinking her pale eyes in anticipation of what he might do, she suddenly held her breath and waited. Time seemed to slow for several moments, a strange mix of fear and anxiety rolling over her entire body, until his hands reached out and grabbed at the bars directly in front of him. Immediately, he began to bend them, working them to his will and creating a space in which a small body could easily slip through.<br><br>‘My god, he must be terribly strong to bend steel so easily,’ Elizabeth thought to herself. It made her wonder why he allowed himself to remain locked up in a cage to be gawked at.<br><br>“Come inside,” the Scarred Man whispered, his voice rough, as if someone had forced him to drink a goblet filled with sand.<br><br>Releasing her held breath, Elizabeth cautiously approached the cage and climbed inside it. Her body had been small enough to pass through the bent bars. As she entered, the Scarred Man pushed aside a pile of straw revealing a hidden door on the floor.<br><br>“Oh my,” Elizabeth whispered to herself. Not only was he strong and therefore able to break free if he so chose, but there was another means of escape for him as well. Why would he stay? They were questions she wondered if she’d ever learn the answers to.<br><br>“Hurry m’lady. The curtains will be drawn soon,” the Scarred Man spoke as he gestured for Elizabeth to move toward the trap door. “You can hide beneath the stage until the show is over, or you can leave through the crawlspace, which opens out into the rear of the carnival’s tents.”<br><br>Elizabeth nodded as the Scarred Man told her what she could do, giving her the options of either hiding or running. She appreciated the fact that he gave her a choice, that he was treating her with the respect she deserved as a person. Though many would claim it ought to be due to her status or title.<br><br>“If you choose the latter,” the Scarred Man continued. “I cannot promise that whatever or whomever you are running from won’t find you…but while here, beneath this stage…” his voice trailed and a sad expression, from what Elizabeth could make out, seemed to take over his face and features. “Here, no man will dare come close enough to find you.”<br><br>Elizabeth felt a strange pull toward the Scarred Man. He intrigued her somehow, made her wish to know more about him. It was becoming apparent that the barker’s words were false and she needed to know why this man would allow for such lies to surround him.<br><br>“Thank you, sir,” Elizabeth whispered, her tone and expression revealing just how grateful she truly was. She then gave the Scarred Man another curtsey. And without thinking, as she lowered her posture before him, she took a hold of one of his hands. She pressed her soft lips firmly against it, another sign of gratitude. “I shall be here when your bit is over.”<br><br>At that, Elizabeth let go of the Scarred Man’s hand and climbed through the trap door and into the crawl space below. As the door shut behind her, she curled up into a ball and waited. She was terrified that the guards would find her and bring her back to the castle. She could only hope that his words rang true, that no man would dare come close enough to find her. If they did, she’d have to go back. And that was something she just could not do.<br><br>Focusing on her breathing, Elizabeth waited underneath the Scarred Man’s cage. She listened in on what was happening above as the darkness swallowed her whole, waiting for his show to end.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>woegman</strong> on <strong>16-07-2010, 16:38:43</strong>
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				The touch of her lips left him shivering - how long had it been since he had felt such a thing?&nbsp; His jaw hung open in surprise as she vanished through the trapdoor.&nbsp; He regained his senses a few moments later, just in time to spread the straw again, straighten the bars on the front of the cage, and return to his stool before the curtain rose.&nbsp; As dumbstruck as he was, he was also a consummate performer, and as the curtain began to slide back, he quickly slide with it into the persona of a wild savage.<br><br>His performance that night was masterful.&nbsp; He growled and howled and thumped his chest, straining at his chains with fury and a thirst for vengeance.&nbsp; With every lunge, the crowd gasped and flinched, with every glare into the audience, he saw them turn pale with fright.&nbsp; As the barker egged him on towards the finale, he stomped around his cage, grabbing the iron bars and shaking them with unmatched ferocity.&nbsp; As he did so, he hoped he had not too badly frightened the girl beneath his stage.&nbsp; <br><br>Finally, the end had come.&nbsp; Holding his hands in front of him, he strained at the links of chain that bound his wrists together, and as designed, they snapped away, freeing his arms completely.&nbsp; The audience howled in terror.&nbsp; He grabbed the chain about his neck, and it too snapped.&nbsp; A woman in the audience fainted.&nbsp; And then he rushed forward, seizing the false bars on the front of the cage, and bending them open with abandon, sticking his body half out the cage and screaming in pure, primal rage.&nbsp; That was the show ender, and it worked beautifully.&nbsp; The crowd stampeded out of the tent, screaming, and Irasco, the barker, made a show of hurrying out with them while the "muscle" - the carnival's strongmen Jimo and Timo, two heavily muscled twins, came in to "restrain" the Scarred Man.&nbsp; When the last of the crowd was safely out and the tent closed, Jimo let out a laugh.<br><br>"Gods, but I am glad the show found you, Sebastiano," he chuckled, smacking a meaty hand on the Scarred Man's shoulder, "Used to be me that had to play the 'savage twin, separated at birth' angle.&nbsp; I was never a quarter as good at it as you."<br><br>"He wasn't!" Timo laughed along with his brother, "So, Sebastiano...dice tonight?&nbsp; We made a good haul today, and I am eager to burn through it!"<br><br>Sebastiano, the Scarred Man, smiled softly, but shook his head no. <br><br>"Not tonight, my friends," he rasped, "Tonight, I think I will spend some time in thought, before heading off to sleep."<br><br>The strongmen looked at each other and shrugged, a comical mirror of one another, then left the tent.&nbsp; When he was sure they were gone, Sebastiano rushed back to the stage and, looking about one last time, raised the trap door.<br><br>"It is safe now, m'lady," he whispered down hoarsely, "The crowd is gone, and we are alone."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>darkangel76</strong> on <strong>19-07-2010, 19:11:07</strong>
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				Elizabeth curled up into a ball as she waited underneath the stage. She could hear the Scarred Man above her, arranging the pile of straw once more so that it concealed the trap door leading to her hiding place. She was more than grateful that he allowed her to hide in his tent, that he wouldn’t reveal to anyone where she was. It had been an unspoken agreement more or less, but she knew he’d honor it. His tone and demeanor had told her he would.<br><br>Elizabeth had to admit that it was an unexpected surprise as well when the Scarred Man had agreed to help her. After all, who was she to him? Surely he thought her to be a spoiled noblewoman given her manner of dress. Even in a simple gown she realized she stood out. And no doubt, those like her were more than likely not welcome in such a place. They often brought trouble, not to mention their airs. Besides, typically those of her status found such amusements beneath them. Her parents were no exception.<br><br>As Elizabeth mulled over why the Scarred Man would help her, she suddenly heard the muffled sounds of the crowd milling in. The barker was shouting, laying it on thick as he riled them all up. And he was doing a good job of it. His words even had her a bit frightened and she’d been lucky enough to see a side of the Scarred Man that made her question everything she’d heard, everything that was being said.<br><br>Suddenly, Elizabeth heard loud stomps and howls coming from the stage above her. They made her jump and gasp with fright, causing her teeth to chatter as she curled herself up into a tighter ball. The noises made were beyond terrifying. She clamped her eyes shut as small whimpers passed over her lips. <em>Oh god, what was he?</em><br><br>Elizabeth was beyond confused. The Scarred Man had shown her such gentility, had manners more impeccable than many a nobleman. So why was he doing this? Why was he pretending? Why did he wish to frighten everyone? It was unnerving, confusing as she listened to him, wondering why he would put on a false front.<br><br>Eyes tearing, body shaking from fright of the Scarred Man’s show, the crowd’s reactions, Elizabeth just focused on her raspy breathing while she waited. Finally, the show came to an end and things became quiet once more. Though she could hear more muffled voices suddenly coming from above, all male. Most of what they said was indiscernible. But she caught the Scarred Man’s name. Sebastiano. It was definitely not the name of a beast. It was that of a man, one who piqued her curiosity like no other.<br><br>Suddenly, the trap door opened. Cheeks streaked with tears, Elizabeth’s eyes went wide.<br><br>“It is safe now, m’lady,” came the Scarred Man’s voice, Sebastiano’s voice. “The crowd is gone, and we are alone.”<br><br>Elizabeth swallowed as she moved to get out of her hiding place. When up on the stage, she looked into Sebastiano’s eyes, only one of which appeared normal. Biting down on her lower lip, she gave him a curtsey.<br><br>“Thank you, kind sir. I am in your debt to be sure,” Elizabeth whispered as she took Sebastiano’s hand in her own in thanks. She gave it another kiss before she let go and then stood upright once more.<br><br>Elizabeth eyed Sebastiano quizzically, trying to understand why he stayed with people who made him do things she found abhorrent. Things she thought that degraded him, made him lesser than what he was. If he’d truly been a beast, then that would be another matter. But… he wasn’t.<br><br>“Sir,” Elizabeth began, a tone of hesitance resounding in her voice. “Your show…” But her voice trailed as a wave of fear suddenly washed over her. She stayed her words as she realized she was about to be too bold, too forward with her questions. She barely knew this man. To ask him what was truly on her mind would be rude. They’d need to wait; she’d need to be patient. So, taking a breath, she changed the subject. “Why? Why did you help me?” She averted her eyes just then as she paused for a moment. “You could’ve easily given me away. Why didn’t you… Sebastiano?”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>woegman</strong> on <strong>19-07-2010, 22:01:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Again, she kissed him.&nbsp; Again, his heart fluttered.&nbsp; For the first time in his life, he was thankful for his multitude of scars – their angry, red paths across his face and body hid the blush that would have betrayed his skin.&nbsp; He did blink, however, unable to keep the shock that the touch of her lips had sent through his body.&nbsp; He watched as she looked over him, noting the look of wonder and puzzlement on her face, noting as well her bravery and poise.&nbsp; Had any woman ever looked on him without disgust, since…<br><br>His thought was interrupted as she called him by name, and for a moment, he was taken aback. His body stiffened, and he tried to imagine how she might have known.&nbsp; His heart began to thump furiously, and the instinct to run was heavy…and then he realized that she must have overheard his conversation with the twins.&nbsp; Of course she had, he assured himself, and for the second time that night, felt relieved by his scars.&nbsp; He gave the girl a slight smile, and sat easily on the straw covered floor, offering her the more comfortable stool.<br><br>“Why not?” he replied, his voice like gravel and tainted with just a touch of a foreign accent, “You are a young lady in flight; I am a man who has known far too man pursuers to not sympathize.&nbsp; What could I gain by throwing you to whatever wolves pursue you?”<br><br>Sebastiano reached up, and touched the chain at his collar.&nbsp; With a quick jerk, he pulled the chain free, leaving the iron ring bound around his neck.&nbsp; He rolled his head, cracking his joints and sighing in relief to have the chain off, if only at night.&nbsp; <br><br>“Whereas, by helping you, I gain the favor of a beautiful woman, and the chance to ask of her the most precious of things…”<br><br>He paused, letting, perhaps, a touch of panic enter the girl’s heart.&nbsp; It wasn’t that he was a sadist, but he was a consummate showman, and he couldn’t resist.<br><br>“..your name,” he finished gently, hoping it set the girl to ease.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>darkangel76</strong> on <strong>26-07-2010, 16:41:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Elizabeth felt a chill run along her spine when she watched Sebastiano break the chain from the collar around his neck. His display of strength amazed her and made her curious as to why he chose to live the way he did. <em>Was he truly happy being in a cage?</em> Pulling her cloak tighter around her body, she tilted her head a little, taking in the sight of him.<br><br>Every bit of flesh that Elizabeth could see seemed to be ravaged with scars. Not one spot had been left untouched, so it seemed. Except for his one eye. Slightly mesmerized and totally intrigued by this man who’d just helped her, she found herself looking deeply into it. Trying her best to understand. When she realized what she was doing, that she was staring, she immediately averted her eyes, focusing on the ground beneath her feet. Her cheeks reddened almost instantly and she could feel them get hot as embarrassment consumed her.<br><br>Sebastiano didn’t seem to take notice of Elizabeth’ stare. Or if he did, he paid it no mind and for that she was most grateful. Feeling ashamed, she continue listening to him speak. “Whereas, by helping you, I gain the favor of a beautiful woman, and the chance to ask of her the most precious of things…”<br><br>Elizabeth felt her heart stop as her blood went cold. Her eyes widened as her neck snapped up her pale eyes seeking out his face once more. She shivered a little where she stood, fearful of where Sebastiano was going with his words. Clutching tighter at her cloak, she suddenly held her breath.<br><br>“… your name,” Sebastiano finished.<br><br>Elizabeth released the breath she’d been holding, an audible exhale of relief. She could swear that she saw a smile play at Sebastiano’s lips, but it was difficult to tell. The scars marring his flesh made it hard for her to truly ascertain any expression that crossed his face. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, feeling silly for being nervous, she licked her lips and struggled to find her voice.<br><br>“My name, sir, is Elizabeth,” Elizabeth said, her voice meek and quiet. She gave him a curtsey. “I do beg your pardon for not divulging as much sooner. It was impolite of me. And I apologize if I was too forward in addressing you by your first name, but I do not know your surname and needed something to call you by.”<br><br>Elizabeth gave Sebastiano a smile, hoping that he understood what she was trying to say. It was odd. The sight of him should have had her cowering in fear, running away screaming much like the women who’d attended the show had done. But for some reason she could not. Instead she felt a desire to know him, a strange pull that she couldn’t ignore even if she tried.<br><br>“May I please stay the night here with you?” Elizabeth then asked. But she gasped at her own words. The way they came out sounded wrong to her ears, so she quickly added, “With the carnival, I mean?”<br><br>Elizabeth bit down on her lip as her skin blushed over for Sebastiano to witness yet again. She felt like a silly girl and wouldn’t blame him one bit if he laughed her out of his tent and told her to be on her way. Not only that, she was certain that he knew allowing her sanctuary would put him and the rest of the carnival at risk. She was of the nobility. It was rather evident. And the punishment for hiding one such as her when it was clear she was trying run away would result in a rather severe punishment. The guards weren’t actively looking for her yet, but they soon would be. It wouldn’t be long before her parents learned of her disappearance and alerted the guards to find her. When that happened, anyone she spoke with would no longer be safe.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>woegman</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 02:21:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sebastiano watched her watching him, but he did not let it show on his face.&nbsp; Truthfully, he was well used to being stared upon, gawked at, a display of grotesqueness; was that not his place now?&nbsp; As her cheeks reddened and she looked down, he wondered if it was disgust, fear…or something else that made her react that way.&nbsp; His contemplation broke with her nervous tension as he asked her name, and he nearly chuckled at her exhalation.&nbsp; <br><br>“Elizabeth,” he said, greeting her again with a subtle bow, “by your leave, of course.&nbsp; And you have mine as well – Sebastiano is far better than what I normally get called by patrons of this faire.”<br>&nbsp;<br>He watched the girl, amused lightly at the struggle evident in her eyes as she watched him, studied him, tried to decide whether he was or wasn’t a monster.&nbsp; She was brave, he gave her that – until they had gotten to know him, even his fellow carnival workers had not been so bold, so forthright.&nbsp; Her strength was a mark of greatness; tempered, and she could rule…Sebastiano caught that thought, and recoiled.&nbsp; He was no courtier…not any more.&nbsp; The thought distracted him so, that her next question took him absolutely aback.<br><br>“Stay?” he rasped, “Here?”<br><br>He blinked his one good eye and studied her hard.&nbsp; Memories flooded into his mind, thoughts of a time he had hoped long past.&nbsp; His one good eye moistened, but no tears issued forth.&nbsp; He sighed, and sat on the straw of the cage, beckoning the girl to sit on the stool before him.&nbsp; He looked at her again, and emotions aside, sighed, and nodded briefly. <br><br>“You…you can stay,” he relented, “In my wagon.&nbsp; No one will bother you there, nor are there any brave enough to look.&nbsp; It will be safe.”<br><br>He paused but a moment, then realized how that might sound.&nbsp; Quickly, he continued, before she could be given fright.<br><br>“I will sleep beneath the wagon – I sometimes do anyway, if it seems there are threats of thieves where we’ve made camp.&nbsp; I can listen for approachers better, and have yet to meet a thief or guard who did not flee from my bellowing roar.”<br><br>He smiled sadly, his scarred face twisting with the movement of his muscles, and he remembered another time, another place.<br><br>“Elizabeth,” he said as softly as his voice would allow, “I knew another, once, named something very similar…Elizabetta….”<br><br>His voice trailed off into silence.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>darkangel76</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 07:41:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Elizabeth hesitantly sat upon the stool as Sebastiano situated himself on the floor. Her heart lurched as she watched him make a seat for himself with the straw that was strewn about the cage. His actions made it clear that he was used to such things, used to being treated as and thus acting like an animal. The very thought of him being treated in such a way bothered her greatly. In her eyes, he was no less a man than her father was or any of the men at court she’d had the unfortunate privilege of conversing with. So far he’d only shown her kindness, exhibited the most impeccable of manners. <em>Was it the fact that he was a commoner? Part of a carnival? Or perhaps it was because of his ghastly appearance?</em><br><br>As far as Elizabeth was concerned, such things shouldn’t matter. Titles. Status. All too often such things were undeserved yet inherited to those fortunate enough to be born of certain people. And all too often, such things meant being a prisoner and answering to parents who had your entire life planned out for you. Not a thought for what would make you happy. Their only concern – maintaining that status.<br><br>Elizabeth sniffled softly as her eyes watered a little. She was running away from the confines of titles. She so desperately wanted a life that was her own, one where she could be happy, where she could find her special someone. More than anything she wanted to adore someone and be adored in return. Her mind wandered as thoughts of a possible future of her own choosing began to run through her head. All the wonderful possibilities! But it snapped back to the moment when Sebastiano told her that she could stay with him in his wagon.<br><br>Gratitude filled Elizabeth’s entire being. She was well aware of the risks and knew that Sebastiano was as well. The fact that he was willing to help her anyway, to go to such lengths to see that she was comfortable and her honor preserved, said so very much to her. No, he was not a beast. He was anything but. He was a man of worth, of honor. A man worth knowing. She looked at him just then, her pale eyes gazing deeply into his one good one. The longer she stared, the stronger the desire she felt to learn his story, to learn why he stayed with the carnival.<br><br>Elizabeth was about to whisper her thanks, that it wasn’t necessary for him to sleep outside, but she was cut off before she could begin. Sebastiano returned her gaze and mentioned another, a girl by the name of Elizabetta. The name was so similar to her own that it gave her shivers. It was as if fate somehow knew she’d meet Sebastiano, that their paths would one day cross.<br><br>“Elizabetta?” Elizabeth asked. “If I may be so bold…” her voice trailed and she bit down on her lower lip. She suddenly hoped she wasn’t being too forward in her questions. After all, they’d only just met and Sebastiano had been more than kind. “Who was she?”<br><br>For some reason Elizabeth wanted to know, needed to know. The pull she felt toward this man was so very strong. It beckoned that she succumb, that she give in and comply. Sebastiano was interesting, intriguing. And yes, she had to admit the longer she stayed with him, the safer she felt. Licking her lips, she waited for his reply. One that hopefully didn’t show anger or resentment at her boldness or regret for promising her sanctuary she so desperately needed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>woegman</strong> on <strong>04-08-2010, 22:24:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>Who was she?</em>&nbsp; Sebastiano could scarcely believe his ears.&nbsp; Till this point, he had been half convinced that the girl was merely amusing him with her presence, that as soon as she had gotten a chance at freedom, the promise of safety, she would withdraw from him and leave him once again in loneliness.&nbsp; He had not meant to let slip the name Elizabetta, but this girl had drawn it from him as if she had asked directly.&nbsp; Somehow, she made him feel at ease, made him feel...worthy.&nbsp; He flushed, feeling his skin redden beneath his angry, white scars.&nbsp; It had been so long, so many years, and he had never told the tale, in full, to anyone.&nbsp; This girl...no.&nbsp; She was not "this girl" any longer...she was Elizabeth.&nbsp; Surely that meant something, a name so close.&nbsp; He closed his good eye for a moment, let loose a long, wistful sigh, and then began to speak.<br><br>"She had hair the color of chestnuts, heavy with curls," he said, remembering, "and her eyes were pools of caramel, rich and deep.&nbsp; Her skin was the color of unbleached linen, but smooth, perfected, unblemished.&nbsp; She was a princess, the daughter of a King of a far away kingdom, and I..."<br><br>He paused suddenly, realizing what he had almost revealed.&nbsp; He coughed harshly, and then considered.&nbsp; He remembered a promise from long ago, should ever he tell his tale...and his heart raced with the fear of betrayal.&nbsp; Then he looked at Elizabeth, her perfect, innocent beauty, and his heart stirred, aching to share.&nbsp; And so he did.<br><br>"...and I once loved her," his voice graveled, continuing, "And much to the king's chagrin, she made claim to my heart as well.&nbsp; Alas, I was no fit match for a princess, and her father made this clear."<br><br>His good eye filled again with tears, and this time, he could not stop one from escaping, rolling chaotically down the scarred pathways of his cheek.&nbsp; He wiped it away quickly, then shook his head with a wistful smile.<br><br>"Ridiculous, no?" he chuckled with a hint of sadness, "That this mishapen brute once wooed a princess?&nbsp; I was not always so ugly, though..."<br><br>He trailed off, looking towards Elizabeth, trying to judge her reaction.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>darkangel76</strong> on <strong>05-08-2010, 06:32:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Elizabeth held her breath as she waited for Sebastiano to speak. When he opened his mouth, she expected him to yell at her, to shout, to tell her to leave at once. But he didn’t. Instead, his expression softened and it appeared as if his mind had gone elsewhere. He opened his mouth and he began to speak of the woman. A woman that had captured this man’s heart, his soul. Elizabetta. A woman with a name so close to her own.<br><br>How anyone could think this man a beast, a murderer… Elizabeth just didn’t understand. Yes, he was strong, his skin flawed with angry jagged scars. But that didn’t make him any less of a man. It gave him a story, a past she was sure had to have been a painful one and not just in the physical sense. The look in his one good eye said as much.<br><br>Sebastiano began to speak of love, confirming Elizabeth’s suspicions. Immediately, she stood up, she couldn’t help herself. He didn’t seem to mind her movements and continued his tale, one that touched her so very deeply. Her heart aching for him, she listened intently, her tiny feet taking small steps closer and closer to this man who was slowly baring himself to a girl he’d only just met.<br><br>“Ridiculous, no?” Sebastiano chuckled, his voice laced with distant sadness. “That this misshapen brute once wooed a princess?” He seemed to pause ever so briefly just then. His eyes were filled with tears and Elizabeth took another step closer. “I was not always so ugly, though…” his voice trailed.<br><br>Elizabeth felt a lump form in her throat, her breath catch. She took a few more steps toward Sebastiano until she was next to him. She knelt down on the floor and gave him a watery smile, her own eyes tearing at the thought of him losing his love.<br><br>Reaching out, Elizabeth gently touched Sebastiano’s arm. “I’m so sorry you lost her,” she whispered. “The rules of court and nobility hardly make any sense.” She let her hand brush along his arm until it settled against his hand. She gave it a small pet, a gesture of kindness, of understanding. “And appearances matter not, Sebastiano. Not if the love is true. Though I take you at your word about having looked different at one time.”<br><br>Elizabeth wanted to ask Sebastiano how he came to look as he did. He’d already told her that he hadn’t always been that way. He’d once been a man. A man who’d loved a princess, one who had dreams and aspirations, she had no doubt. So what happened to give him his grisly appearance? His raspy, frightening voice? What made him look to be the monster so many mistook him to be? She hoped he’d divulge such things to her in time. Assuming he let her stay once the carnival was ready to leave Bascott.<br><br>Licking her lips, Elizabeth smiled at Sebastiano. She took a hold of his hand and kissed it. More instinctual mannerisms she’d learned in court when addressing a worthy male. “Thank you,” she said. “For sharing that with me. I can see that it’s a painful memory. You honor me by indulging me your answer and for that I thank you.” She let go of his hand just then. “Sebastiano, you do not need to sleep outside if you do not wish. The weather is cold. And you’re doing me a kindness by allowing me to stay with you. Please,” she spoke, her voice pleading. “I’ll feel safer if you’re closer by.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>woegman</strong> on <strong>05-08-2010, 21:04:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sebastiano swallowed, fighting the desire he felt rising within.&nbsp; Every time her lips touched his skin, he felt the spot burn as if set afire, and that burning spread through his body, his heart, his loins.&nbsp; He looked away, ashamed at his lust – this was no whore, no harlot.&nbsp; Elizabeth was a noblewoman, young, pure, innocent…that she should so ignite his desire embarrassed him.&nbsp; <br><br>And then, she asked, no, pleaded, for him to stay beside her.&nbsp; His heart pounded within his chest, his mind scrambled against itself – should he deny her, and make his lust easier to ignore, or should he acquiesce, and fight his demons head on?&nbsp; It wasn’t really a contest.&nbsp; He knew what he would do.<br><br>“…As you wish,” he murmured, rising slowly from the floor.&nbsp; He gestured to the trap door, beneath which she had hidden.<br><br>“Come,” he said, swallowing back the lump that had formed in his throat, and lifting the trapdoor, “My wagon is near the woods, on the edge of the carnival.&nbsp; We must be cautious, careful not to be seen.&nbsp; Warrick is not a cruel man, but he will not accept you, not this close to your village, at least.”<br><br>Sebastiano dropped down the hole with surprising agility, and made his way outside of the cage.&nbsp; He turned, waiting for Elizabeth to follow.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>darkangel76</strong> on <strong>09-08-2010, 23:40:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Elizabeth was beyond grateful that Sebastiano agreed to stay close by. She knew he’d protect her if it came to that, though she hoped it would not. He was her only friend, the only one she trusted now that she was out on her own and away from the confines of her father’s castle.<br><br>Yes, Elizabeth trusted Sebastiano. He’d more than earned it by helping her hide and not giving her away. And the fact that he’d shared a bit of himself with her, a memory of something so obviously painful… it said so very much about his character, the sort of man he was. In her eyes, he was a worthy male who more than deserved her respect and admiration. She just wished she knew why he lived as he did, how he came to be as he was.<br><br>Elizabeth followed Sebastiano out of the cage and through the trapdoor. As they made their way out into the open, she wondered if she’d need to stay hidden from everyone. He’d mentioned that Warrick wouldn’t accept her this close to her village. So, would she be accepted after they departed? Would Sebastiano allow her to stay with him until such a time arose?<br><br>The two walked towards Sebastiano’s wagon in silence. As they approached it, Elizabeth smiled. She was truly happy to be away from her home and in the presence of this enigma of a man. He definitely was the sort she wished to know better. But she wondered if she was asking too much of him too quickly. He was kind, considerate. But she didn’t want him helping her out of mere obligation. If she was too much of a bother, she’d take her leave.<br><br>“Sebastiano? My staying with you won’t be too much of a hindrance on you, will it? I do not wish to make things more difficult on you. If you prefer I only stay the one night, I will understand.” Elizabeth paused as she looked deeply into Sebastiano’s eyes. Taking his hand, she brought it to her cheek. “Just please at least let me stay until tomorrow night.” Her voice pleaded with him, the fear plain in her tone and manner. Despite that, it was evident she did not mean to guilt him. Her words were genuine; she’d meant every one.<br><br>Elizabeth let go of Sebastiano’s hand just then and gave him a curtsey.<br><br>Looking up into Sebastiano’s face, Elizabeth gave him a smile. “Thank you so much for your help,” she whispered. Just then, she went up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Still smiling, she turned around and climbed into his wagon waiting for him to follow.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>woegman</strong> on <strong>12-08-2010, 18:26:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sebastiano quivered softly at the touch of his rough hand against the soft, delicate skin of her cheek.&nbsp; For a moment, he found it hard to speak, so wonderful was the feeling of her delicate warmth beneath his skin.&nbsp; His heart was torn – it had been so, so long since he had been so close to another human being.&nbsp; Even the prostitutes that followed the carnival would not bear his presence; at least, none had ever approached him to attempt to charm away the meager wages he earned here.&nbsp; Truth, though, was that he had never bothered to look that direction for solace.&nbsp; He was ashamed of his form, and could not bear the thought of forcing a woman to lay with him simply for the merit of his coin.<br><br>And yet, here was this girl, Elizabeth, an image of beauty, softness, warmth, the essence of femininity, begging to stay even a night with him.&nbsp; He knew he would not take advantage of her; he would never take a woman against her will, and his personal code would not let him press her even if offered, so long as she might feel indebted to him.&nbsp; His wagon, however, was small, the bed barely large enough for his muscled frame, and were they to share the straw mattress within, they would be forced to lay touching the entire night. He feared that certain…arousals…might occur, and that such would at best offend the noble lady and at worst, send her panicking into the night, bringing down the vengeance of both the manor and the carnival upon him.&nbsp; Could he help it, though?&nbsp; It had been so long…but then, he looked at her, her pleasing eyes, and felt the softness of her lips against his cheek, and he could not resist.<br><br>“My dearest Lady Elizabeth,” he spoke, bowing his head respectfully, “You could not be a hindrance if you tried.&nbsp; So long as it is your desire, my berth is your own, for as long as you choose to make it such.”<br><br>He swallowed, gulping back the urge of panic that struck him.&nbsp; What was he thinking?&nbsp; This could be worse than ruinous to him – had not his past, his scars, taught him that lesson?&nbsp; He recalled the last and only time he had shared such space with a woman of noble blood, and his heart quailed.&nbsp; Instinctively, his hand went to his throat, brushing slightly the scar across his neck, beneath which sat his vocal chords.&nbsp; He looked up, seeing her climb into the wagon, peering in to the mat of straw and tick, the small, shuttered windows, the tiny cabinets that held his few belongings.&nbsp; He cleared his throat, looked about, and gestured inside.<br><br>“As you can see, my lady,” he mentioned, and though his heart ached for more of her touch, to be near to the young woman, his honor bid him offer again, “The space inside is cramped even for one of your delicate build.&nbsp; &nbsp;Are you sure you would not rather me sleep out here, that you may have your privacy and space?”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Scars of a Man (darkangel76 &amp; woegman)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>darkangel76</strong> on <strong>13-08-2010, 21:22:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A wave a relief washed over Elizabeth at Sebastiano’s kind, reassuring words. She was glad that he didn’t find her to be a hindrance. It was the last thing she wanted for him, despite the fear she felt about the possibility of being cast out without warning. And though she didn’t know the full details of his past, she could guess that it had been a difficult one, one full of heartache and other such hardships. His story of Elizabetta was proof enough of that for her. It touched her deeply to know he’d suffered such a loss and the fact that he was truly willing to risk his life to help her now, that he didn’t even find it troublesome, made her heart feel warm. The gratitude she felt, simply overwhelming.<br><br>Smiling, Elizabeth climbed into Sebastiano’s wagon. It was small, much smaller than she’d first thought. There wasn’t much in the way of space, but it was cozy enough. Dry. Somewhat warm. She saw his humble-sized bed and felt her skin blush as it got hot despite the layers of fabric that covered it. Though she’d been sheltered, kept in the dark about most things, she was far from stupid. She now understood why he’d suggested he sleep outside.<br><br>Turning to look at Sebastiano, Elizabeth’s skin tinged the palest shade of pink. “I’d rather you stay near, if you are willing,” she answered. The fact that her honor was first and foremost on his mind made her trust him implicitly. And even though the wagon would be cramped, she knew in the end, it would be more comfortable for him inside. The night air was damp with chill. If he fell ill because of her, she wouldn’t be able to bear it.<br><br>Looking into Sebastiano’s eyes, desperately trying to read his expression through his scars, Elizabeth took his hand in hers again. Giving it a tiny squeeze, she liked how comfortable she already felt around him. It was as if fate had somehow stepped in and had then shown her the way to the one destined to protect her as she started her life anew. It was strange how he made her feel so safe. She barely knew him. But his actions thus far spoke loudly enough for him. Yes indeed, he was a man of worth, of honor and so much more. And then there was his appearance. She hardly noticed it any more, the urge to stare totally gone.<br><br>Elizabeth let go of Sebastiano’s hand and gently set her small pack onto the floor. She’d only brought with her a few simple things, some apples and bread, a brush, extra undergarments and a nightdress. Not nearly enough if she needed to travel far or alone, but she’d been hoping the carnival would take her in when she glanced them from her window. And she’d never had to travel far nor had she ever packed for herself before. The servants had always taken care of such things. Peering outside, the moon overhead, she gave a small and silent yawn.<br><br>“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth whispered. “I’m very tired. May I please have a moment to change before you settle for the evening? I won’t take long.” She gave Sebastiano a shy smile as she pulled out her nightdress from her pack and then unfastened her cloak to set it aside. “I promise.”
			</dd>
		</dl>
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