She opened her eyes, and only saw darkness. Cordelia attempted to move her arms, but she felt a rope binding her wrists together. She struggled against ropes that held her where she sat, before sitting back into the chair. Her head spun and ached, but in the mist was a voice that broke out towards her. "Are we comfortable, my flower?" The voice came from her left, and she turned to look towards it. "You wouldn't believe how many nights I sat in the Purple Dragon, waiting for you to not look at your wine long enough to slip my special brew into it. But now you're here with me, and it's all been worth it."
"Who…are you!" She shouted as she struggled against her bonds once again. The ropes remained taught and seemed to get tighter as she pushed against them. "Release me now, and I promise not to beat you myself before handing you over to the guards!" A laugh that came out like a hiss came from behind her, and it circled around as the man continued.
"That's not important now my dear. You're here with me, and now that I have you, I don't want to let you go. And I don't think I will." A hand wove itself through her hair, and she shuddered as it was lifted and pressed to someone's face. "You smell just like I thought you would." The voice crawled its way through the Pegasus knight's ear, and it shook her even more. "I have everything prepared for our evening. But I think, my dear, that you need to slip into something more comfortable." The sound of metal being unsheathed came from behind her, and Cordelia felt her captor grab a handful of the top she was wearing. Like a saw, the drawn blade was cutting through her clothes, taking chunks from the top and exposing more of her skin. She struggled again, but all her struggling got her was cool metal pressed against her throat. "Now now. No use to struggle, my dear."
Footsteps came around her and she felt someone breathing near her face, breath smelling rotted and wet. "Yllisse's Savior of the Skies. So proud, and so helpless." She could feel her captor's face approaching hers slowly. She could feel his lips pressed against hers, and she bit down and wrenched her head back. He screamed, and recoiled as Cordelia spit a metallic taste from her mouth. A hand came across her face, but the pain was worth the satisfaction of making the bastard bleed. "That was a mistake, girl. That was your last mistake."
At that moment, Cordelia heard a pounding come from beyond the voice that was promising to end her life. After a few loud thuds, there was a crash and the sounds of a fight. Cordelia heard metal clashing, and a familiar voice yelling insults and threats. Before long the fighting stopped, and Cordelia waited anxiously before she once again felt hands on her head. Instinctively, she threw her head forward, connecting with another skull in front of her. "Ow!" The voice was not that of her captive, but that of her friend and tactician.
"Mark?" She called out, out of joy and concern. The hands moved for the blindfold that covered her eyes and removed it to reveal Mark indeed. He had a cut on his cheek, and a red spot on his forehead, where she assumed her head had connected. She looked down and saw the roped holding her against a wooden chair, with shreds of her top draping over the ropes. Around them was a single room, with a table with food on it in one corner, with a small bed in the other corner, comforter pulled open with a single rose sitting on the pillow. Over Mark's shoulder, she saw a man on the ground, groaning and shifting just barely. Greasy red hair slicked back, silver knife laying at his side. "What…who the hell…"
"I guess I'm lucky I found you when I did." Mark said as he attempted to untie the ropes. "When you didn't return to the castle earlier tonight, I had to go looking for you. A few roughed up thugs later…well I'm glad I found you alive." With a little more effort, the ropes were undone and Cordelia could move. As she stood, Mark cut the rope that bound her wrists. Cordelia walked over and punted the man on the ground hard in the stomach, causing him to cough up blood.
"Good. Maniac." She turned to Mark, who was still looking at her with worry. Cordelia's stone composure gave way, as she threw herself into the tactician's arms, holding back tears. "He's insane. He almost killed me. If you hadn't come when you did I…" The pair sat in the dingy room for a few minutes, before Cordelia composed herself enough to walk. While she wanted him dead, they both knew he had to be brought to the guards. Together, they hoisted him in between their shoulders and walked in the breaking daylight, towards the barracks in the north of the city.