"It is futile" Duke Allen spoke, his amber eyes glinting with unwavering arrogance. 

"How dare you!?" the crude looking bandit growled as he took another spare dagger. 

"Don't bother" a sharp, clear-cut voice slashed his thoughts. 

"My my Edgar, you are frightening the poor soul. Look, he is not bothering to attack with his dagger" Duke chuckled, lacing his words with superiority. 

It only took a slash to paint the gravel and the ground with bright red. The ground also witnessed a 'thump' and a rolling head. 

"Wipe that cocky smirk off. It's repulsive" the knight spat out, his eyes were filled with fury at the aloofness exhibited by his master. What would have happened if I were late? 

"That's not how you speak with your Master, but that's okay.." Duke said, closing the distance between him and his knight.

 "After all, you are" he slightly bent himself to whisper in the ear of his knight "my one-and-only Edgar Radford" his hiss sent sharp tingles through the knight's body. A rush of rosy hue brightened his white cheeks accompanied by a slight throbbing. 
*****
Aristocracy, a privileged class holding hereditary titles. The class of the most powerful members of society. The ton or rather the Aristocracy retains notable title-holders. Among them is Allen Barnhart Ferdinand, the Duke of Alterimers. Commonly called "The Rapacious Eagle". When this Eagle decides to deracinate the rats, he rules out a need for a knight. When Edgar Radford proves to be potential knight, Allen chooses him. 

Mireille Isabelle Martin, the youngest daughter of Count Martin, witnesses her mother's murder at a young age, sworn to retaliate- Mireille bequeaths her old self to become Edgar Radford. 
Will being chosen by the Rapacious Eagle help her in her path? Or will she become a prey to the Eagle? When fate entangled their past, will they solve the mysteries it evokes?

Disclaimer: This story is a pure work of fiction and any resemblance to reality is pure coincidence or vain expectatin.

His Masked Knight

That's indeed too good. If the wine were to go bad prior to the festival, it would cause a black spot on the Ferdinand name. And in this time, a merchant was ready to trade such amount of wine. It seems like everything was planned... I chuckle at my thoughts. As if anyone would plan that. 


«"It's a relief"» I recollect Marie's words back at the restaurant. Wasn't she glad I didn't drink any wine? Why would she be? Unless... I jerk my head towards Lilith. 


"When did the merchant fix a deal?" I inquire, hoping that I'm just throwing a wild guess. 


"Uh... Three days ago I guess" she replies, obviously confused at my anxious state. 


"Sht!" I growl as I dash towards the larder. 


"Hey! No cursing!" I hear Lilith's voice in a distant. 


I gulp my fear at the worst possible outcome. Marie said an 'All-Out attack'. I thought it limits to the Duke. But no, it is actually a more complicated process. 


Planned