You ride back to the mansion as quickly as possible, to not lose too much blood on your ride back. You gallop through the gates at full speed, preparing for your performance in your mind. You quickly think of something sad like a puppy getting run down by a carriage so that tears stream down your face. You approach the front doors of the mansion, where the stable boy stands on the porch, and you skid to a halt. Gripping your bad leg with burning tears in your eyes you swing your leg over and cry out. Your leg, from your hip to your knee, is now soaked in your blood… mostly. "Get William and Madame Leota!" You shout to the stable boy, who takes one look at your leg and turns pale. "Yes, right away." They say, opening the doors to the mansion and telling a servant to fetch them. You slide down gently off your horse and grit your teeth in pain as your weight shifts onto your wounded leg. The stable boy helps you limp into the foyer where William and Madame Leota meet you.

"Oh my!" Madame Leota gasps at your wounds. "What happened to you? Where's the maid that went with you?" William rushes to your side to hold you up. "Highway robbers stopped us and took us off the north east road." You squeak out. "Florence and I tried to stop them when they advised us not to fight back, but they took my shotgun before I could reach it." You think back to your cuts and Florence’s wounds. "They tried to cut my throat to stop me from calling for help but I fought back as much as I could. They stabbed my leg and watched me bleed with their piercing green eyes. I told Florence to run while they had the chance." You well up for effect. "But, they- they shot them. They shot them in the legs so they couldn't escape. I had the chance to while they were down-" You break your voice and break down into sobs. Madame Leota covers her mouth in shock and William holds you closer to him. "I'm a coward for running. I should've stayed. I could've saved them." You cry, tucking your head into William's shoulder. "You did what you could." Madame Leota says sorrowfully. "I'm glad you're alive." William says and pets your head. You remember your injury and groan in pain. "You need medical treatment for a wound like that." Madame Leota points out. "It's alright, I can bandage it here." You say wincing. "We can alert the authorities in the morning."William says, and you try hiding your fear with another sound of agony. "I can help clean and bind the wound," A deep voice says. A tall, lanky servant with an odd eye and long, thin, blonde hair, wearing a dark green overcoat with red cuffs steps forward. "If I may?" He asks, looking at you. "Yes, that'll be alright." You say, inhaling sharply as you stumble toward the servant, out of William’s arms. "Take care of them, please." William says to the servant as you limp, with his assistance, to the living room.

He helps you rest your tired body onto an ornate red fainting couch with gold framing. "I'll be back with a wash basin, a few towels, and some bandages. Do you think any wounds need stitching up?" He asks, and you remember how deep Alistair buried the dagger in your thigh. "I think it might need a few." You say looking down at your bloody leg. "May I take a look?" He asks and you nod, finally uncovering the wound from the handkerchief you had over it. "Yes, this definitely needs it. I'll fetch the sewing kit as well." He says and walks out to grab the supplies. You breathe a sigh of relief as soon as the double doors are closed behind him. Then, from behind you, you hear an applause. "You held quite the act. Your performance was remarkable really." Alistair says materializing behind your head. You tilt your head back against the arm of the chair and give him a sly smile. "Why thank you, Alistair." You say tilting your head slightly. He glides around to your side and looks at your bloody thigh. "Does it still hurt?" He asks curiously. "Not as much as I'm playing it up to be." You say truthfully. "May I?" He asks, reaching down to touch it and you nod. He lightly grazes his fingertips over the blood stained and torn fabric of your clothing. "Admiring your work?" You ask. "Just making sure I hit the right target." He says and you scrunch your nose. "You weren't sure before?" You slightly raise your voice. "For the most part." He says to get a rise out of you. "Why you-