It was a chilly winter night. Poor Sparrow was dying on street at the base of this castle.
I should have never listened to that blind gypsy woman, my dear sister, who I raised since the farm burned down, was dying because of that wish.
I was in Lord Lucien's study. He shot me and took aim at Sparrow. He pulled the trigger and she flew backwards out the window and fell on the street. She wasn't dead, I could feel it in my heart, but she'll be stone-cold by morning.
Lucien had his gun still aimed at me, I could feel that too. But he was hesitating. I wanted him to just kill me and get it over with, but he seemed to be arguing with himself whether or not he should.
"Now what would the point in that be?" I heard in voice of the blind gypsy woman who convinced me to buy the damn thing that got me here.
"The bloodline..." Lucien mumbled. "She could be the fourth..."
"Think, you lunatic! If she were the fourth, she'd fly out that window instead of her sister. Grief really has replaced your logic and sanity, hasn't it?"
I sensed Lucien let his arm go limp. "I suppose it is just a waste of bullets..."
"Well," I heard the gypsy say, "at least your logic is coming back to you."
Lucien left the study, but the gypsy woman stayed.
"I doubt any harm would come from saving you, young one."
I felt her hand on the bullet wound. It was burning hot and freezing cold at the same time. It made me gasp in pain.
The bullet was gone.
And I was in a hay cart, far away from Castle Fairfax.
I felt hands, and a gruff voice yelled"I found some'n', boss!"
And then I heard an all too familiar voice. Arfur's, saying "Nuh-uh, that's my whore, sir. She's a sweet un. She probably came all th'way out 'ere to be sure I was alright, then fell asleep."
He held me in his arms. I wanted to fight him, push that awful thug away, but I didn't have the strength. This was a scene straight out of my nightmares. That...thing...near me and nothing I could do about it.
"Now, sir, wif, yer permission, I'd like to take 'er home."
And everything faded to black.