The dining room was silent as I entered with my mother. She had forced me to wear my best dress. It was a pale creamy white colour, with crystals hand-embroided into its silky material. The tight waste and square cut neckline enhanced my figure, making me look very much like the dolls I used to play with when I was younger. I hated wearing it. I hated being here.

I scanned down the table worriedly. I knew full well the reason my mother had brought me here. It was well known that Diego's wife had been ill for some time. Now many people feared her passing was on the horizon. Hence my mother making me wear this ridiculous dress. I felt uncomfortable shuffling into the grand room, even alongside her. I could feel Diego's icy glare on me as I went to be seated.

I had been deliberately sat beside him. Oh joy!

I avoided his eyes as the first course was served. People around us made polite conversation, but I could feel his eyes on me. I didn't like it here. I would just have to feign illness and retire early. Isn't that a good plan?

I looked at my glass worriedly. What if my mother had already arranged my marriage? It was well known he desired me, and God knows he has enough money to afford my hand.

How could I escape that possibility? It was a very likely prospect. Many people had marriages of convenience now. Jesse being the prime example. Jesse.

Since that day in my bed-chamber I hadn't seen or spoken to him. I had the distinct feeling he was avoiding me. He had apologised profusely for being so forward with me. But even though I knew he had no right to kiss me like that, part of me didn't care. Part of me wished more then anything he would kiss me like that again. Which was completely silly. I didn't even know him less than a week ago. Well, I guess I did really. If what he said was true. And I really was starting to believe what they were telling me. I just hoped things would work themselves out. I didn't think I could handle much more confusion.

"You look beautiful this evening Miss Simon. May I inquire as to the occasion?" he drawled. A terrible attempt at a joke. I had a feeling I wasn't going to escape the table as quickly as I first planned.

I laughed politely and saw my mother shoot me a look of approval from across the table. I sighed inaudibly. I was not going to escape at all.

"You know full well as to the occasion. I was told to wear this by my mother. She seems to want me to freeze before supper." He looked rather taken aback by my sarcastic reply. My mother looked shocked. I pretended not to notice and instead took a spoonful of soup.

"Very witty my dear." He muttered darkly. He obviously didn't like women who spoke freely. Maybe I had a plan after all. Just get him so annoyed with me that he leaves. Good plan Susannah.

"Indeed. I am often misunderstood as a result of my witticism." I informed him with a brief smile. He gave me an icy glare. I had a feeling he hadn't forgotten about the other night.

"So I have been told." Was all he said however. I could feel his steady glance on me as the next two courses where served. I tried to ignore him, instead choosing to talk to the other gentleman sitting beside me. Let me just say how much of a sacrifice that was. He was probably the most boring individual on the planet.

After another twenty minutes of pointless chit-chat I excused myself from the table. I informed my mother of my 'horrendous migraine'. She accepted the story with suspicious eyes. She knows me too well.

I turned out of the dining room in good spirits. I had finally managed to escape the stuffy room and a certain murderer I will not mention.

I twisted a stray ribbon from my bonnet around my finger prettily. I had been refused to wear such a thing indoors. It was the height of bad manners to have my head covered as we ate. I had always wondered why it seemed to be such a terrible sin. But I guess society has no reasoning. Just rules.

I let down my hair so that it fell from the clip that held it in a tight bun. I had never liked my hair up. My mother insisted on it however as it showed I was eligible for marriage. Another of society's stupid rules. I swear sometimes I feel like I'm locked inside a prison. Unable to escape or realise my true potential. My mother said I read too much about the new feminist women coming to light. I agree, but I do not see it as a bad thing. I think equality is a good thing. To be made feel lesser is the true evil.

I reached the marble statue of our family's patron: Zara Clarice. I had even had the pleasure of meeting her when we first arrived in Carmel. She was a profit from the older times when Carmel was still a relatively unknown settlement. She told me some very disturbing things. And some that made my heart excite. She knew me as a Mediator. And she also mentioned something else. About my true love. Something about…………..

"Pardon me for interrupting my lady." I spun around, startled from my wondering thoughts. It seemed I hadn't escaped after all. Diego.

"Not at all my lord. I merely came for a breath of fresh air. The house was giving me a terrible head-ache." I answered smoothly.

"Ah. Yes, about that my darling. I am most intrigued into your reasoning, as I was always brought up to believe witches could silence a room with a stare."

I stared at him in horror. He thought me a witch? Granted, you were suspected of being one if you smiled at mass, but still. A witch?

"I beg your pardon sir?" I asked in utter confusion. He gave me an evil grin and began to pull me further away from the safety of my house.

"Do not play coy games with me. I saw what you did. I've seen the bewitching colour of your eyes. There is no other woman in the whole of the continent with eyes as green as yours. Nor with the power to knock a man down without laying a finger on him." He loosened his grip, as if remembering how strong 'I' could be.

I was shocked. Of course he thought me a witch! What else was he to think? He wasn't the first man to compliment the brilliant green of my eyes. And he knew no other way to describe what Jesse had done to him before.

I gasped in horror.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked worriedly. We had crossed the pathway now. Moving towards the darkened cathedral; at the end of Sycamore Crescent. What was he doing?

He gave a short but no less evil laugh. Then it hit me……………

"I'm taking you to be burned." He answered maliciously.

I tugged at his arm, trying to make him stop. But he was too strong. I couldn't loosen his iron grip. He half carried-half dragged me to the hill top cathedral. The steeple looked foreboding as the wind whipped at my hair. I could do nothing but watch in disbelieve as he dragged me towards the wooden pole already set into the muddy soil. He was going to burn me like a common witch. It was the most popular way of killing innocent girls today. They would accuse them of being witches then burn them in front of a crowd. If the girl died she was mortal.

They always died.