The wedding bells of the church were still ringing when the dark wooden gate of the mansion opened. Damyan entered the place and, with a snap, the gate closed at his back. He pushed the young girl that was walking by his hand towards a chair and walked to the chimney. The bright red flames illuminated his face as he started to chuckle evilly. His plans were in motion.

At his back, the girl sat on the chair. She was young, very young. The fact that was only fourteen did not spare her from marriage once her father had given her away to Lord Damyan Amerthy. She stood up, pulled the humongous white skirt until she was able to sit comfortably, and looked around. Damyan placed a hand on the frame of the chimney, contemplating his future actions, when she spoke. “So… did you marry me as part of a bigger scheme, or are you just some sort of pervert?”

“What?” he asked, visibly confused.

“Yeah, you know… I mean, I’m young but not that naive”, she retorted. “Many older men like you think on marrying a young noble girl like me out of lust, but just to be clear… it’s not like I’m going to let you. Understood?”.

“How dare you, Angelica!” he yelled, offense echoing in each word. “I would never do such a thing!”

“So… classic evil plot. I’m sorry if I offended you, I had to ask, maybe now I can remove this thing”. She tapped with her knuckles on her hip, making a metallic sound. “Oh”, murmured Damyan, understanding what she was hiding under the wedding dress. “So, tell me, what was the point of blackmailing my father to give my hand in marriage then? You have quite a reputation: scams, use of mercenaries, assassinations, torture…”

“It’s… too complex for a young lady like yourself. Now begone and stop bothering me!”

He turned back to stare the fire, his mood somehow killed by Angelica. To Lord Damyan Amerthy’s surprise, her new wed wife started laughing softly, rapidly increasing to a loud laughter. “What are you laughing at!?”, he requested, stepping towards her menacingly.

“That’s brilliant! I mean, I have been involved in devilish plots since I was four! Blackmailed? Thrice. Kidnapped? Twice. Sold as a slave? Once. Assassination attempts? Four. My hand given into marriage without my consent? Five times. You should know that I allowed this wedding to happen”. She stood up, ignoring Damyan’s threat, and walked towards a great window. She looked to the city outside while she continued. “If I have to guess, I’d say your plan is to dethrone my father, he’s the Count of Mornalia, after all. But if he was, for instance, assassinated, his position would be inherited by my brother. So I guess you have planned for that, right?”

Damyan, recovering his composure, walked slowly towards her. He twisted his mustache, standing right next to Angelica and watching the city as she did. Below them, the party of their wedding was still raging. “Yes. I have planned for that. You almost sound like you want them dead”.

“My father? Yeah, he’s always used me. ‘It’s your duty, to serve this country’, it’s your fault you got kidnapped again’, he’s a bastard. Not my brother, though, I’d be happy enough if he was sent far away never to come back”.

“That can be arranged…”

“Use my aunt” she interrupted. “Aunt Ophelia always wanted my father’s throne. You just need to leave some evidence pointing to her. Use this”, she said as she removed a hair locker from her head, her long blonde hair falling around her round and beautiful face. “I stole it from her years ago, it was a gift from my grandmother to aunt Ophelia. Anyone knowing the family will recognize it as hers”.

Damyan took the hair locker, impressed with the young girl’s determination. But she continued. “By the way, my father loves to go out hunting each Sunday. It’s the perfect moment”.

“Well, I’ll be damned” retorted Damyan. “I was not informed you were such a… proactive young lady”.

She laughed softly. “Oh, please. Who would suspect of the youngest, cute, blonde little daughter of count Morgan?” she answered, looking at her with very trained puppy eyes. “Nobility is a dangerous world to grow into. You either adapt, perish or live the rest of your life as some noble’s puppy wife. To hell with that”.

They stood like this, watching the sun set without saying a word for several minutes. “So, my dear wife, what is it you desire in life? Why did you allow this wedding to happen?”

“I want to be feared”.

She walked away to the chimney. Her semblance was serious and, for the first time, Damyan saw in her look a pained expression. Blond curls falling in front of her face that he did not try to remove, the experience of a life no child should ever have reflected on her green eyes.

“I want to be feared”, she repeated. “But not because I’m your wife: I want the world to know my name, I want my enemies, everyone who ever wronged me whisper my name afraid that I may hear them. I don’t want anyone to try to manipulate or use me again. So, when you asked my hand in marriage, I knew this was my chance”. She looked at him and, despite her short stature, despite being a cute, blond and thin girl, something in the way she looked at him made him know she was dead serious. “Do not be fooled, Damyan: if you try to use or abuse me in any way, I will get you killed. But if you help me, I will give you the means to get my father’s throne and, eventually, the whole kingdom”.

Damyan stared a her for some moments and, at that point, he understood. She had not told him everything that had happened to her. Not even close. “Anyone else who wronged you?”. Angelica looked again towards the flames and murmured ‘My uncle. My cousins’. He walked towards her and extended his hand. “We have a deal. But be warned: shall you betray me, I will make you wish for death before I even started exerting my vengeance on you”.

“Quite a typical threat, don’t you think?” she said as she shook Lord Damyan’s hand.

“I feel like this could be the beginning of a long, lasting friendship”.

“Who knows. Maybe, in due time, I may even think of you as my husband. Now, where is my room? I really hate this dress”.

“Top of the stairs, second floor, third door to the left”. Angelica smiled and, carrying the dresses’ skirt on her thin hands, she disappeared through a door. Once he was alone, Damyan blew a long breath and curled his mustache. “Hell… I may be in love!”

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Hope you enjoyed it!