Steps that seemed silent elsewhere, echoed in the vast and sparse hall. The only light was the candle that guided her through the darkness, a flickering pool that accentuated the exposed skin of her malnourished body. The grand home was, as always, empty, it's owner still absent and in far away lands, so she walked unhindered, unafraid of tripping over or bumping into expensive furniture or finely woven rugs. The stairs did not creak, as the upper levels of the manor became illuminated, the hammered metal upon each door she passed, gleaming, and behind each one, nothing. At the end of a corridor, still yet to be decorated, a large oak door led to her bedchamber. It was of a mans taste, the ornately carved bed although draped in colourful opulent heavy silk, although clean and without wrinkles, did not appeal, it felt wrong, uncomfortable. Her employer slept there, along with another on occassion. The well tended fireplace had almost died, save the charred wood that remained, white with ash. Careful not to smother it, she arranged wood enough to last the night, dust and splinters popping, crackling, sending embers into the chimney. Candle extinguished, simple nightgown donned, she lay upon a small rug infront of the hearth and drew a woollen blanket over her. Staring into the small, yet growing flames, and she felt calm.
Insults. She was used to these, her life a chain of misfortune filled with hideous people, some that had scarred her mind and body, yet that eve she realised something. A woman, brash, difficult and eager to cause trouble, had recently been seen in the inn of the Prancing Pony. She was beneath Kerrey, not even worth the attention this so called former pirate craved. It was as if the woman begged, pleaded, to have death court her, given her perchance for trying to cause fights. Infront of more favourable company, she was allowed three opportunities to spew her vile insults, and no more and after the third, she deserted them, like a rat upon a sinking ship. The woman was unlucky, for there was something Kerrey knew that she did not. Kerrey knew what she herself was capable of, not only that, but that she was not alone, and insults do not go unanswered. The thin woman did not need to think deeply on the matter, all would come to pass, and she felt no pity for the other womans fate.
Sleep claimed her, the song and warmth of the fire easing her into a dream filled slumber. Bright colours, laughter and him, always him.
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