Author's Note: New series! Ding ding ding! Alrighty then, this is about a seventeen year old girl named Constance. She lives in the 1800's in a village, but instead of being given away for marriage, something else shall happen to her. It's in her point of view for now.
"Constance Marie!" I heard Father's booming voice call. I ran down the stairs, bustle skirt trailing behind me, and stared at him. "Fix yourself up, now," Mother said to me in her soft voice. She stared at me with her gray-blue eyes as she sat in front of the fireplace. Smoke dimmed the room; it smelled like burning wood and cloth. "Now!" Father shrieked. "The young man from the bank is coming to see you, Constance. I would like to know how much his father would pay for a bride like you."
I ran back up the stairs and stared at myself in the mirror. I cleaned my face and arms with a wet rag and changed into a long, lavender skirt and a white blouse. I slipped on matching heels and then stared at my long, auburn locks, puzzled on what to do with them. I combed out the heavy curls with my fingers and they were calm waves at this point. Mother came up the stairs and tied a ribbon in my hair to pull them back, leaving hair in the front to frame my face.
I walked down the stairs, slowly, and held my breath to stare at the man and his father. "She's beautiful!" the man cried out. "Quite a stunning young woman," his father agreed. I flashed a smile at them, nervous, and they smiled. "She's got such a perfect smile as well," he noted. "Hello," I started bravely. "I am Constance Marie." The man took my hand and kissed my middle knuckle.
"Hello, Constance. My name is James," he said cautiously. I smiled at him, assuming he was nervous. "And you, good sir?" I asked politely to his father. "Michael," he said simply. Father looked at me, a look of warning on his face. Michael turned to James and said, "What do you think of her?"
James flashed a grin and said, "I would like two months to prepare for this beauty." Father smiled at them. "Well, offer."
"I'll give you five hundred pounds for the girl," Michael said. "Very well. We shall see if anybody can meet your bid," Father said, a wide smile across his face. Michael and James slipped out the door.
"Father . . . You're offering me to multiple families?" I asked, shocked. "The best offer gets the prize," he muttered. "But it won't matter. You're not going to any of them. I'm selling you into the market," he said with a grin. My eyes watered over. The market meant slavery. Tears slid down my cheeks and I ran out the door. "Constance Marie!" he called, angrily. I kept running, I heard him behind me. I begged my legs to go faster; my lungs begged me to stop with the burning. I ran, still, and made my way into the woods at the edge of the village.
I hid behind the trees, breathing heavily. "I'll strangle you, Constance," he growled. I begged myself not to cry, and I couldn't. I shivered and he heard me. I heard his footsteps getting closer . . . and closer . . .
His arms wrapped around me and pulled me away. I couldn't scream, his arms covered my mouth. He dragged me through the village, and I saw Paul standing in front of our house.
Paul was my brother who had gone away when he married Elise, a beautiful girl from origins only he and her family know. Paul was holding a lantern in one hand and . . . a sword, that glistened under the light of the lantern. I screamed and writhed, desperate to be freed. I bit down as hard as I could on his arm, and he let go when I tasted blood. I turned and ran again, my shoes gone. I felt the cobblestone on my feet as I ran, I was faster without shoes anyway. He was getting farther and farther behind me.
I dashed into the village square, and screamed. "Help! Someone, please! Help!" I begged. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I heard Paul sheathe the blade and I looked behind me. They were just entering the square. "Please!" I shrieked. I turned to run again, and ran along the cobbled path into the outskirts of town.
I would make a dash through the woods back to the house. I would grab everything I needed and then flee. I could make it somewhere else . . . I knew I could. I heard an alluring and attractive voice behind me. "You're in the woods alone?" I stopped and looked back. His eyes glowed a vibrant blue in the dim lighting of the moon. His skin was bleached of color. "Yes . . ." I whispered consciously. "Well, you're lucky a gentleman found you instead of those mongrels who were chasing you," he said simply. He took my hand, and I jumped in fear.
His hands were so . . . warm. They were warmer than any hands I've ever touched. He smiled at me. "You're absolutely beautiful," he said with that beautiful grin. "And I have no husband . . ." I whispered softly. He pressed his lips down to mine, and a spark of warmth and happiness surged through my body. It felt so right, I stayed this way. He pulled away and we both gasped for air. "You were going somewhere, would you mind an escort?" he whispered, breathless. "I would love one," I whispered back.
I saw Paul in the distance, blade in hand. I turned to run, pulling his hand, before Paul saw us. He stiffened. "Your brother," he said simply. "Yes, let's go!" I said quietly, not caring how he knew Paul was my brother. He walked and smiled at me. "I'll protect you."
He ran at an incredibly fast speed to Paul's side. Paul lifted the blade up in the air, and I heard two grunts, but different voices. One was a charming and alluring voice, the other was raspy and angry. I clenched my eyes shut and just cried. One of them was dead. And I had a feeling it was Paul, not my saving grace.
I was right.
His hands grabbed mine and he whispered he was sorry. I shook my head and he just pulled me along. A female voice, as beautiful as his, called out a name. "Michael!" she hissed. Her voice was the music of a flute put into words. I was jealous as she rose from the bushes and I saw her in the dim moonlight. My jaw dropped and tears welled in my eyes as she walked towards us.
