Desdemona

Having finished recording the castle finances, Desdemona gently closed the book of records that she kept in the treasury hall. Lord Eridar did not bother with such mundane matters and Lady Selena usually did not care anymore than her son did. However, that wasn't the reason why she took up the position as the castle's financier. Rather, she did it to feel useful, at least more so than Finny and Bard, those two idiots simply destroyed the castle with their antics. This week alone, Finny had ripped the hinges off of multiple castle doors just by opening them and Bard had blown up the kitchen again using another one of his ridiculous spells. Rosalie also shared in her annoyance at the two clumsy buffoons, as she had been run over by Finny and Bard as they were playing one of their stupid games. As a result the expensive tea set in her hands had ended up crashing to the ground. The expenses to replace it were high, not to mention it was Lady Selena's favorite set.

Desdemona sighed. She had not been born a servant girl, quite the opposite really. She was the daughter of a nobleman. So how did she end up serving Lord Eridar?

Well simply put, it all started because of her father's depraved greed. He had no issue with selling his daughter to an earl who was enchanted by her beauty, her aptitude for magic, and her skills with a sword. She was, as she had remembered him calling her, 'a maiden that is the epitome of perfection, created by gods'. However, she was vehemently against the sale, hating the idea of marrying a man whom she did not know, only to play as a mistress to him.

It has been over three years since she had sworn her loyalty to Lord Eridar after he had freed her .

"Struggling against the silver cords that bound her," Desdemona felt her fear rise to the surface, for the first time in her life. She had never been afraid much, having been born to a wealthy nobleman. Being raised in a castle with guards and servants had made her ignorant to the dark world outside of her walls. The chamber in which she was held in, was a final resting spot for executed criminals and convicts; skeletons and rotting bodies strewn about the ground. She was forced to lay, bound on top of a crypt, having been force-fed a drug that prevented her from performing magic. The silver cords bounded with spells of protection so strong that no matter how hard she struggled, they would not break.

"That man", she thought darkly, "He can eat his heart out for all I care, but he will never see me bound to him for as long as I live!" Earl Drewt was the one that had her bound, hoping the dead would frighten her enough that she would eventually tire and swear to him in the ancient language, her loyalty to him. Desdemona had to admit that she was growing weary of seeing and smelling the dead bodies. No one would find her down here. Her voice would not carry up the spiral steps, no matter how hard she screamed.

Another aspect that made her restless was the fact that she had lost track of time in the dark chamber that was her prison. It was always dark and she had begun to think that time had stopped moving for her all together. That was until her savior had come to rescue her. Clad in armor so dark, she did not notice him at first when he had descended down the spiral staircase.

"What do you want?" Desdemona asked, her lips curling into a ferocious snarl. But he did not answer; instead he walked closer to her, the metal of his armor clinking against itself. A hand reached out and lightly fingered her cords.

"A strong spell..." he said.

What he did next surprised her. Letting his hand hover above her silver cords, he said roughly, "Jierda!" A blue spark of magic jumped from the palm of his hand and onto the cords breaking them. The metal slid from her body, rendered all but useless. Relief swept through her so fast that it made her lightheaded.

Swinging her legs to the side of the crypt, she made to stand, only to find her feet unsteady from their disuse. She did not have to worry about that for long, however, the mysterious man swept her into his arms. Without a word, he ascended the spiral staircase. She did not know what had happened afterwards, but when she blinked tiredly, she found herself lying on a red lavish bed, the sheets tucked about her. A beautiful woman with red hair, about her age, bustled about the room.

"How are you feeling?" the woman asked. "Tired? Hungry?"

"Confused." Came her answer as she sat up on the bed.

"I bet you are," the woman said. "I'm Rosalie by the way."

"Desdemona... Where am I?" She glanced around the room, it was unfamiliar to her.

"You are in Lord Eridar's castle."

Lord Eridar? That name sounded familiar. Desdemona tiredly rubbed her hand over her face. "He rescued you from Earl Drewt's castle when he went to visit the earl. You fainted before he brought you here."

"Ah," so the man who had rescued her was the keeper of the castle himself. "Where is he?" Desdemona asked.

"He is in his study," Rosalie answered, handing her a cup of hot tea. "This'll clear your mind and refresh you. Drink up." And she did. The tea was delicious, Raspberry with a hint of honey. With some directions from Rosalie she had managed to find the study with ease, the door was unlocked and it opened slightly when she knocked on it. Curious she entered the room quietly.

The person before her had surprised her. She had expected a man her age to have rescued her, but instead a young boy sat behind the dark maple table, flipping through a book and marking it with a quill. He was incredibly handsome for a boy, but in an unnatural way. His ears were pointed and his eyes slanted, "Is he an elf?" Desdemona wondered. He did not glance up when she entered.

"I see you're awake."

"Thank you..." Desdemona said; though she was never one to show thankfulness. Life never showed her much to be happy for because of her troubled family, and so had never needed to be grateful for anything. But this boy had drawn the desire to do so from her. "...For saving me."

He nodded. "Do you plan on leaving? If you do I will not stop you. But if you would rather I employ your services, then I shall, for you are skilled with magic and the sword, so I have heard."

Desdemona considered his offer. "Hire her?" She had no experience serving other people. Her arrogant attitude had made her intimidating among her peers. But looking at Lord Eridar, she felt as if she could serve him without issue. He had never once looked at her like other men did, showing no interest in her beauty, and not even giving notice that she stood before him. For some reason, she felt deeply connected to him. "If you will hire me, my skills are yours."-

She opened the door to his study, carrying a teacup in her hands. He sat behind his maple desk, his helm resting on the wood, a book in front of him as he read. Desdemona smiled; an expression that she rarely bestowed upon anyone. But the past three years had been wonderful and she had grown to love living with Lord Eridar — it was very enjoyable. "Tea, my lord? Raspberry with a hint of honey."

He glanced up at her briefly before drinking it. "Thank you, Desdemona."

Unlike before, this time he had taken notice of her, had looked at her. Smiling at him, she retreated from his study leaving him alone to read in peace.