Prologue
Candle smoke wafted about the room, its acrid stench long embedded in my clothes and bed covers after 21 years of my life. It stung my eyes and the flames cast sinister dancing shadows across Morven's face, highlighting his angular, boney features. His eyes and also the dagger clutched in his hand glinted from the darkness. I struggled to control my breathing, the gash in my shoulder burned like an open flame seared my skin and my vision was blurring – He must have poisoned his blade goddammit, he truly wanted me dead, the bastard.
He advanced upon me but I lifted my hand in protest, "Please, Morven, it's not my fault. I've never done anything to hurt anyone."
"Shutup!" he spat, quivering with anger, "I don't want to hear a single word from you! Do you have any comprehension of the dishonor you have brought this family? If word got out!" his face twisted in rage, "It would be the end of us, and mother and father would lose their positions, not to mention their dignity."
"Are you going to kill me Morven?" My voice came out throaty and hoarse.
Morven's knuckles whitened as his fists clenched, preparing to strike me down, but he hesitated and the blade slipped from his fingers, falling into darkness. He covered his face with his hands.
"Get out of my sight," He whispered, "Hell, get out of Cyrodil! You have one day before I put a bounty out for you."