I woke up to the familiar sight of my bedroom. The pale and peeling green wallpaper have always made me feel at ease, as well as the old birch table across my bed where I have spent hours a day drawing and sketching to my heart's content. I was back at home, but how did I even get here?

I slowly tried to sit up, my neck still a bit sore from the previous day. Day? How long was I even out for? As if on cue, I heard my door open to a worn out Emily, whose face immediately brightens at the sight of me awake. "Colette!" she says excitedly as she rushed over to my side, trapping me in her tight embrace. I winced in pain, causing her to quickly let go. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself." I smiled warmly at her. "It's fine." I tell her, before the events of my walk back home suddenly rush in my head. "How'd I get here?" I asked her. Confusion clear on her face, she looks at me. "What do you mean? You were lying here when we got home! If someone should be asking questions, it should be me! What on earth happened to you?!" I could sense the worry in her voice.

I sighed, knowing that this was going to sound unbelievable to her. I wouldn't have believed it myself if it weren't for the fact that it happened to me. "I took the shortcut on the way home, and someone had followed me. It was one of the drunken men from the pub earlier that day. The bastard slipped me twenty assignats for me to give him a good time." From the corner of my eye, I saw her hand ball up into a fist. "I insulted him in front of everyone, which I guess infuriated him even more than when I rejected him the first time. He tried to have his way with me, pushed me against the wall and everything. And then a man in a blue hood showed up and helped me out. I ended up punching that pig hard and knocked him unconscious," I chuckled at the thought.

Emily didn't seem to be as amused as I was. "Nicolette! You were asleep for three days! Margaret began to worry after you wouldn't wake up the next day. We had the doctor down the block check on you. That's when he pointed out the bump on the back of your head and said you could possibly be in a coma from how hard your head was hit! We were all so worried.." she said as tears started to slowly fall down her face.

I gently wiped them away with my thumb. "I'm still here," I tell her, giving her a small smile, "and I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." And with that, she throws her hands up in the air and embraces me a second time that day. This time, I simply ignored the pain.

"But how did you get home?" She asks me, still having her arms around me. I gently moved away, unsure to the answer to that question myself. "I'm not really sure.." I tell her. "I blacked out while I was in the alleyway. Last thing I saw was the man with the blue hood." I turned to her, "He was at the pub when you first came in and before I left. Didn't you see him?" She simply shook her head. "I didn't see a blue hooded man anywhere. Which reminds me, there wasn't anyone at that table you told me about!"

"What? But.. he was the one sitting there." She shrugs, "Probably changed his mind about eating there. Good call too."

When Margaret got home late that day, she broke down into tears of both joy and relief. "Thank heavens you're alright," she says to me that night as she gently combs her fingers through my hair. She was sitting on the edge of my bed while I sat in front of her on the floor. As I child, I loved it when Margaret would play with my hair. It was always fun and exciting to see the resulting hairstyle I'd have after she was done with it. In fact, I still do. A smile slowly appears on my face as I close my eyes, letting her do her magic.

I felt her fingers slowly French braid my side bangs to either sides of my face before securing them with a hair pin behind my ears. "There," she says as she finishes. She then picks up a small wooden handheld mirror and holds it in front of me as I examine my hair. "I love it!" I tell her, my grin widening. She smiles back down at me, "You're looking more and more like your mother everyday both in the inside and out," she says, getting up to put the mirror back down on top of my small wooden drawer, "and that is the biggest compliment I can ever give you."

I look back into the mirror as I study my own face. I had an olive skin tone and long eyelashes that surrounded my dark green eyes, all from my mother, as well my hair, which hung past my shoulders. My mother also passed down her thin lips and small dimples onto me, which appears when I smile. I was definitely a near spitting image of my mama, except for my small almost elf-like ears, which she once told I inherited from my father. I hated them. Just knowing that I had something of him always angered me. "It's okay," mama would always say, "I've always loved your father's ears." She would chuckle and tell me how unique it was. I never really got how she could still love him after all the damage and hurt he's caused us. My mother was the kindest woman I've ever known. She wouldn't dare hurt a fly; much less despise the man who left her to fend for her own and their child. As much as I could physically be similar to mama, I guess I could never be like her morally.

Kissing my forehead, Margaret tells me "goodnight" before she leaves my room, leaving me alone to my thoughts. I got up from my bed, walking over to my desk. I lit the small candle that sat on the corner of the table, grabbing pencil and some paper and letting my thoughts wander. It felt damn impossible to fall asleep with the questions running around in my head. I didn't know what became of the man who tried to exploit me, but I pray that I never see that bastard again. Then there's my blue hooded savior. Without realizing it, I began drawing the outline of his beaked hood, shading in certain parts while not putting in much detail in his face as I didn't really get a good visual of it. "I never did get to thank him for saving me, or even getting his name."

"You're welcome."

I almost fell backwards on my already worn out chair as I realized I wasn't alone in my room. I quickly regained my balance before turning around to face the man that had been in my mind the whole day. His hood was on, casting a shadow over a part of his face. "Y-you.." I stuttered as I was caught off my guard. "Arno," he replies, "my name is Arno Victor Dorian."

"Arno..," I repeated after him. His name flowed smoothly out of my lips. I smile up at him. "Thank you for coming to my rescue. I'm Nicolet-" "Nicolette Renae Lutant." he finishes for me. My eyes widened at him. How did he know my name? My father's last name as well. I never considered it as my own though. Personally, I feel like I shouldn't need to. He wasn't in any part of my life, so there wasn't a need for me to carry a part of him. I simply shook my head at him. "That's not my name, Arno Dorian." I don't think it was best for me to be on first name basis with him just yet. I barely know the man and he already knows so much about me. I felt a wave of uneasiness wash over me.

Arno's head tilted slightly with confusion as he stepped in closer to me. "Are you not Général Lutant's daughter?" How.. "How do you know of me?" I ask, my voice shaking a little. I got up, trying to clam my nerves and walked over to my window, which was wide open. I guess I was too focused on my thoughts to hear him come in. Closing it, I turned back to him. "So you are who I believe you are," Arno let out a sigh of relief. "What do you mean, who I am?" "You are Emilio Lutant and Mia deCorvo's daughter. I am in need your help. Do you know of your father's current whereabouts?"

"I am no help to you, Arno Dorian. My father is as good dead to me. I haven't even met the man, nor do I know what he looks like." I turned away from him to look out the window. The last part was a lie. I knew what my father looks like. I've seen him once or twice with his army men when they scout the city. That doesn't mean anything though. Besides, who is this man anyway?

I felt Arno quietly stand next to me. I was so lost in thought. What could he possibly want with my father anyway? Were people still talking about my mother and father? It's been twenty years! People were so reluctant to let go.

The silence between us felt like it could last forever. "Do you have any ways of locating him?" He tried again, breaking the silence between us. I shook my head. "I don't know anything about the man, nor do I want to," I look over at him. "Besides, I have not a clue who you are. Even if I were to know, what makes you so sure that I'd willingly tell you?" I was stepping over the line, challenging him. I knew that. But I really couldn't help myself. This man.. as mysterious as he was.. it was almost intriguing to me. I saw him smirk through my moonlit room as he suddenly grabbed me, positioning us so that he's holding me from the small of my back, my head a few inches dangling outside my window. If he were to let go of me, I would surely fall head first. I gasped, holding onto him without thinking. Is he mad?!

I looked up to his face under the hood, seeing his face in detail for the first time since we "met." His hazel eyes pierced my green ones, mesmerizing me. He had a light stubble along his jaw line, which twitched up as his smirk was still firmly planted on his face. To sum it up in four words: he was devilishly handsome.

I had almost forgotten the situation I was in with him, as I lost focus on all but the way he looked down at me. I was oblivious of the hand that had crept up near my neck, as the familiar blade hidden underneath his sleeve slides out smoothly, grazing against my skin. "You would have," he says, "or I would be forced to kill you."

Hello everyone! Thanks so much for the reviews, favorites, follows and suggestions! :)

I'll try to update every 1-4 days, as I'm really excited to write this story.

I won't be able to post until Monday or Tuesday maybe, since I'll be away for the weekend without internet. :(

But that doesn't mean I won't be writing while I'm gone! So hope for a 2 chapter update in a few days. :)

That's it from me today! Enjoy the late update! :)

- K