Lady Maka Albarn was not one to be easily intimidated.
She often prided herself as being rather brave and clever.
Unfortunately, as she stepped down from her hired carriage her heart fluttered treacherously, like a little bird caught in her ribcage.
She swallowed convulsively as she gazed down the darkening drive to the looming mansion beyond.
Raising her chin high and squaring her small shoulders she mustered her waning courage and marched rather un-lady like up the gravel drive, kicking small pebbles in annoyance.
She passed through the imposing ebony gates of iron and stone.
The name above it proclaiming it to be Ragnarok estates.
Maka huffed as she stomped past the manicured lawns and delicate gardens leading to the house.
She stopped in front of the door and primly smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress, hoping that she looked professional, or at least presentable.
She knocked briskly on the door, three quick raps of the gleaming knocker.
The knocker felt heavy in her hands, as if it was made of real silver.
"What a pompas man he must be," Maka grumbled to no one but the night.
It's a wonder no one has swindled the expensive ornament off its hinges.
The door swung silently open, revealing a dour looking butler.
"May I help you?" he intoned, a look of pure displeasure clearly written in the pinched lines of his jowls.
"I am here to see Lord Ragnarok. I must speak with him."
"Does the lady have an appointment?" The butler asked, obviously not too keen to give her passage.
"It is a most important business matter. I'm quite certain your Lord will see me if you tell him that it is Lady Albarn calling."
The Butler nodded curtly, moving his hulking frame from the doorway to allow her to pass easily.
"Wait here, I shall inform my master of your request for an audience."
Maka stood alone in the hallway, swallowed up by the shear vastness of the house.
She gazed at the lavish rugs, paintings and furniture exquisitely arrayed around her.
She felt slightly ill at the blatant wealth around her.
Maka and her late father Lord Spirit Albarn had not been poor by any means, but compared to the grand splendor of the house she was standing in it made her feel rather humbled.
"What have you gotten me into papa," she whispered to herself.
She felt overwhelmed and so very alone.
"This way is you please," came the dull voice of the butler, startling Maka from her thoughts.
"The master will see you now."
Maka followed the grim butler up a large flight of stairs.
Silent as the grave, the only sound the swishing of her skirts as they passed through more halls and rooms filled with lavish treasures.
Maka couldn't believe this big house was for only one person.
This man obviously likes to flaunt his wealth.
After winding through the confusing maze of hallways and empty corridors the butler stopped before two expansive doors.
"The master awaits you inside." He mumbled.
He promptly left down the hallway, leaving her alone once again.
"Right," Maka sighed as she mentally prepared herself to walk through the doors.
She schooled the annoyed frown off her face and tried to replace it with her most charming smile.
No point in being uncivili about the situation.
Be nice, be charming, smile.
She walked into what appeared to be a rather large study.
It was dimly lit, the crackle from the fireplace the only light visible.
A wide, deep mahogany table stood proudly in the middles of the room.
Piles of paperwork and empty ink bottles littered it's shiny top, and sitting just behind it silently watching her with darkend eyes was it's master.
"Lady Albarn, how very nice to see you." Came his booming voice.
He stood up and bowed to her from behind the desk and she curtsies primly in return.
He was the most impressive specimen Maka had ever seen.
His hulking form towering high above her own diminutive stature.
He had wide shoulders, sharp cheek bones and piercing black eyes that bore into her.
He might have even been considered handsome by some, but his mouth was a twisted snarl when he smiled, and his eyes held no warmth.
She fought the urge to turn tail and flee at the sight of him, his size and manner so imposing.
Maka held her head high though, her father had not raised a coward.
"Lord Ragnarok, I presum," she said stiffy, trying to keep her fake smile handy.
"Please, just call me Ragnarok. There's no need for formalities here, not when we are to be wed soon my sweet," he said with a vicious smile that made Maka's heart stop cold.
"Actually Lor- I mean Ragnarok, that's what I came to speak to you about."
"Yes, indeed you must have many questions about the wedding and the arrangements. All in due time though."
His voice dripping falsely sweet, like bitter honey.
He learned forward, his dark hair shadowing his eyes.
"You are more lovely than I had hoped."
He leaned across his desk towards her, rather too close. Maka cringed inwardly at his words and took a quick step back, but continued to smile.
Don't lose your control Maka, she thought desperately, as his eyes daringly ravished her.
He was being far too familiar with her and her temper was quickly rising.
"I was hoping to discuss the marriage contract with you my Lord," Maka asked, trying to keep her voice steady and as civil as possible.
"What business does a woman have discussing a marriage contract?" Ragnarok asked, a look of displeasure creeping into his smile.
Maka bristled.
"I believe it's my business because it's my wedding," she spat.
Ragnarok frowned at her, all pleasantries dropped.
"I don't believe I like your tone Mary Albarn. My future wife should not speak to me so."
"First of all, my name is not Mary, it's Maka. You don't even know my first name." Her voice was rising dangerously.
"Secondly, I am here to ask that you drop the marriage contract."
Her patients was slipping fast.
Lord Ragnarok snorted. "Drop the marriage contract? And why, pray tell would I do that?"
"Because you and I do not know each other, let alone love one another."
Ragnarok threw his head back and barked a vicious laugh.
The sound chilled Maka to her bones.
"Silly woman, love had nothing to do with the contract we made. Your father was drowning in gambling deabts, he had no choice but to practically throw you at me. I settled his debts in exchange for your hand."
"Liar!" Her voice quivered with raw emotion.
Her papa would never sell her off, like a common possession.
"I'm afraid it's true." Ragnarok chuckled darkly.
He seemed to be enjoying her suffering.
"Here's the contract if you do not believe me."
He pulled a rolled parchment from his desk drawer.
Maka snatched it from him, her eyes quickly scanning the lines.
Maka's heart dropped at the sight. She'd recognize that sloppy hand writing anywhere, there was no way that it had been forged.
Her papa, truly had signed her away. And for what? To annul a debt that no longer mattered?
At the heart of it all, she would never know why he did it.
He was gone now, passing so suddenly only a month ago.
Now she was grieving, alone, and left to clean up his mess.
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she held them back.
She wouldn't give Ragnarok the benifit of seeing them.
She tore the contract angrily down the middle, the sound of ripping paper filling the quiet room like a gunshot.
She raised her head then, her green eyes flashing defiantly at the dark man behind the desk.
Once again he laughed at her.
"Are you addled in the head my sweet? That was mearly a copy you destroyed, and even if it had been the real one, no matter how many pieces you tear it into it is still just as binding."
"My father is dead Lord Ragnarok, his half of the contract should be voided out of respect." She said steadily, trying to take control of the rapidly deteriorating situation.
"And why would I do that? Yes, your father is dead, but that just makes the deal even sweeter. Now that he's gone not only do I get his lovely daughter, but in marring I also inherit your father's entire estate and belongings as well."
"You bastard!" Her composure was finally breaking.
"Do not speak to me in that foul manner ever again!" Lord Ragnarok yelled back, his face turning dark with furry.
"You may not be my wife yet, but I swear to you that I will bite that vile tongue of yours and teach you some respect! I will enjoy the taste of your tears as I break you. You are mine now!"
Maka whirled and ran for the door, wanting so badly to escape his words.
Ragnarok was quicker though, his long legs brought him in front of the door before she had the chance to escape. His large frame effectively blocked the exit.
"I demand that you let me pass!" Maka hissed under her breath.
Ragnarok smiled deviously, his dark eyes flashing as he leaned close to her face.
Maka could feel his hot breathed on her cheek and it made her skin crawl.
"You smell so sweet, I could eat you up." Ragnorck whispered close to her ear.
"Please let me go, Maka pleaded."
"What if I was to take you now hmm? You have no one, no father, family or friends who would miss you. It'd be easy just to make you mine right now."
He laughed as he grabbed her wrist.
Maka brought her knee up swiftly, hitting him square in the breeches.
Ragnarok grunted and staggered forward, the air leaving him as he cursed.
He held firmly onto Maka's wrist though not giving her the chance to flee.
He recovered much too quickly, and Maka saw the error of her actions in his face as he stood to his full height.
His face was livid, and Maka for the first time in her life was truly scared.
Ragnarok reared back and brought his large hand down, slapping her hard across the face.
Maka trembled, her face stinging from the blow.
"The contract is voided if you take me by force. I am not 18 yet." She whispered, her voice hushed by fear.
"Aren't you a clever one," He scoffed, some of the anger leaving his face.
He stared at her hard, for a long terse moment.
"You're free to go." he said at last, releasing her wrist and stepping away from the door.
Maka did not hesitate, she rushed past him as quickly as her skirts would allow.
She had no idea where she was heading in the maze like house, but she had to find the exit.
"Like it or not you and I will be married within three months, right after your 18th birthday as stated in the contract. I will come for you then my vile wench, and I will make you regret your actions."
His voice followed her down the last flight of stairs, menacing. A promise.
With an audible bang she flew out the front door, leaving the house deadly silent in her wake.
Ragnarok chuckled roughly as he heard the door slam.
The dour butler promptly materialized at his masters side.
"It is not my place to question you master, but may I ask why you chose to marry that disagreeable girl?"
"You are correct, it is not you place to ask questions," Ragnarok barked.
His temper still unbalanced.
The butler nodded and withdrew, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Oh I have my reasons, he thought to himself, a mad smile upon his face.
"I have my reasons."