The night was cold and damp, the rain coming in sheets against the glass of the manor. Leofrine crouched over the floor, every part of her aching from the labor of it all. She had worked for hours upon the spot yet the blood stains were still visible upon the polished surface. The tears rolled down her rosy cheeks only to be caught by the Carmel locks of her hair. The Lord would be angry over her work. He would punish her if she was unable to clean his mess he had made.

Earlier in the evening he had killed a servant for "letting" a prized horse of his die. A eye for a eye he said. Leofrine was made to watch at the door as he struck the man down. She didn't want to. He made her. The pair were the only servants on the house and The Lord wanted to make sure she would not test him like this man. Her shriek echoed through the room at the sight of ruby waves spreading from the mans lifeless corpse. The Lord only snapped his fingers at her and told her to have this filth cleaned before he returned.

The Lord walked into the room looking over Leofrine. She scrubbed and scrubbed the floor with a quickened pace at his footfalls. The tears rolling quicker down her delicate tiny frame. He arched a brow at her as she turned, still crouched upon the floor to look at him. After a minute he muttered, "Hmph..stupid girl." He then proceeded to lunge at her grabbing a fist full of her hair. She screamed grasping at his hands yelling, "Please no m'lord I tried! I tried!" He pulled the knife from his belt proceeding to cut her across the face. She held her burning cheek in her hands, painful gasps escaping her lips. "Now no man will think you of any beauty...scum." With a thrust he slammed her against a wall. Letting her crumble at its base. Walking casually over he lifted her again by the hair. Leading her stumbling to the door of the manor. With one last push he threw her into the night, her body hitting the ground with much force. She weeped, her face lifting from the mud soaked ground to meet the lords eyes. He let out a laugh saying, "I have a moral against killing women," before slamming the door. She looked around the rain poring upon her mud soaked body. Crying she pulled herself to her feet, slowly making her way down the winding path. And so began the journey of a broken maiden...  

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