I’ve done it!

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Well, my precious readers, I have gone and done it.( I am putting myself out there more!) After visiting other blogs, yes I do this, and contributing comments on their work, I’ve noticed something. There is this little thing out there that promotes little unknown artists and helps them get paid to do work! 

 

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I thought, at first, these people are so brave for putting themselves out there like that. Then, I realized I should be BRAVE. And just like the Brave Little Toaster  I took a leap of faith. I created an account! Click Here to see what I have been creating. I will be posting most of my stories at https://www.patreon.com/thescribblingwriter. Of course, I will not skimp out of my blog. Anything I post for free there will also be included here!

So, if you love my work, or are interested int eh thing I create, then hop on over and say Hi!  Again click Here!

In the meantime please read below a story in development. I posted this on my new site, for free! (by the way I will be posting stories for free from time to time! ) ENJOY and please tell me what you think!

Splintered Secrets

His face was covered with a black mask, making it hard to tell what he looked like or even the color of his eyes. I knew who he was. This tall man with shoulder length dark brown hair was well known in the village. He was the man of nightmares. During the war in Austria, he killed ruthlessly, and when he returned King Louis XV appointed him as the official King’s Assassin. The King acknowledged the Assassin as a hero. Making him the most loved and feared man in the country

When a man saw the dark soulless eyes of this man it usually meant the end was near. For me, I wondered why I was staring at him and he was staring at me.

I knew the King, he knew my father, The Duc of Burgundy, and he liked him. I was a favorite at court. In fact, the king loved me so much he was going to allow the Duc of Lorraine’s son Othello to ask for my hand in marriage. It was a match my father was proud of, and one the Duc of Lorraine dreamed about of.

I, on the other hand, did not want to marry Othello. Which is what lead me into the arms of the Assassin.

I ran away.

I put on my best wool cloak and best walking boots and headed out into the foggy, raining London weather towards the dock. With  my head kept down and my purse held close to my chest I made sure to look as poor as I could in a new green dress. My plan was to get on a boat and head over to the Americas. I was going to be free of this nonsense and start a new life with the money I managed to steal from my father.

Destiny had other plans for me.

I had run right into death’s arms. He held me in a steel-like grip, glaring at me from behind his mask and standing to his full height. My shoulders curled in shame as my eyes took in the horror of his dark mask. Rumor has it that he wore the mask in order to hide his true identity from his enemies, other say it was because he had no face.

Allowing myself a glimpse into the black pools he called eyes, I concluded that he was a creature that had emerged from the darkest depths of hell.

“What are you doing here?” he growled so close to my face that his hot breath kissed my skin.

I tried to recoil but he held me tighter making me wince in pain.

“I was just going out for a stroll.” I lied.

He dug his fingers into my arm. I shivered from the searing pain radiating in my arms.

“You are not supposed to be here.” He suddenly looked up and behind me.

I dared not try to look in fear he would strike me with the sword he carried. I was sure he was making a face from behind that mask, not knowing what he was thinking or what face he was making put me more on edge than his fingers digging into my arm.

“I’ll get out of your way now.” I murmured.

He kissed a couple of bright curses then glared back down at me.

“I will personally escort you back to the palace.”

I tugged my arm in a fruitless attempt at freeing myself.

“I can get back on my own.”
He hissed. “You are not supposed to be out without an escort.”
“And you think that it will be wise for you to escort me?”
He nodded stiffly then began tugging me roughly behind him.

“I am positive no one will try to insinuate anything about me escorting you back to the palace.”

My feet moved in a haste fashion as I tried to keep up with his long legged strides. I kept my face hidden in the hood of my cloak and tried hard not to watch where we were going. The last thing I wanted was for citizens of Paris to recognize me and wonder why I was with the Assassin. Being seeing with him would surely cause a scandal for my father. The public would make up stories about why I was with the Assassin, and all of it I am sure would not portray me in the best light.

“Once you get back to the palace.” He whispered in a gravelly tone. “You will get back to your chamber and you will never attempt this again.

I swallowed hard as my mind attempted to come up with something clever to say. I needed to figure out a way to get away, if only for myself. I didn’t want to end up like the other women I knew in society. I wasn’t ready to be a wife and a mother. I wanted to be young and free for a moment longer.

His fingers stung my flesh even through my coat jacket and thick wool dress. As I tried pulling my arm away he squeezed tighter. I was too busy paying attention to his hand that I didn’t even notice he had called for a cab. The next thing I knew I was being tossed into the back like a rag doll and he was coming in after me.

I sucked in a shaky breath.

“If you behave on the ride back to Versailles and I will not talk about this to your father.”

I looked out the murky window just as the rain began. I had picked the wrong day to try to make it to the Seine River. I should have left earlier when I knew the boats were leaving for England or maybe I should have left later in the night when the boats would have been unloading their cargo to be ready for the trip back up the river.

Soon I would be back at Versailles and out of my traveling dress. I would be stuffed and tied into a ridiculous dress that was impossible to breathe in. The lavish details of the dress would be over the top and my slippers would be like walking on needles.

I pursed my lips and turned my head so all he could see of my face was my cheek.

It was then he surprised me by taking off the black cloak he wore. Underneath was a silver breastplate and chainmail down the sleeves.  He wore black breeches, that seemed to bleed into his dull knee high boots. That was when I noticed his boots were not that of a mere executioner. His boots were that of a high born man. These were thigh high as is the fashion but they bellowed out at the thigh were executioner boots taper inward at the thigh. What really gave them away were the embossed carvings on the tops of the boots. I narrowed my eyes trying to make out the design in the dark but was launched backward as the carriage came to a halt.

“We are at the palace.” the driver shouted from outside.

I glared at the door to the carriage, then realized this was no taxi. In my haste of getting away, I had missed small details, important details as to who this man really was. If I could guess then perhaps I could get him to allow me to finish my house.

“Tell me, why does a man who works for the crown have his own carriage? Are you a gentlemen?”
He pushed the door open and held a hand out for me to take. I did, mainly out of habit.

“Why can’t I be a gentlemen?” he leaned in closely. “Why is it so hard to believe that an evil man like myself can own his own carriage?”
I swallowed. “Because you should be able to afford it.”

“My darling girl, Helene what are you doing out here?”

I stopped what I was about say, and I noticed the Assassin did the same as he closed his mouth and shoved me forward.

“Father.” I smiled brightly.

“I see you brought back a friend.” He eyed the tall dark figure behind me.

“I wanted to see Paris at night, and this man was kind enough to be my escort.” I lied. It didn’t matter if the Assassin was going to go along with it, I had other things to deal with. Now that I was back at the palace I had to get dressed for dinner.

The Assassin snorted, and I whipped around too quickly that I lost my balance. Once again I was in his tight grip with his sharp fingers digging into my skin. I glared up at him, all the while trying not to wince from the pain. My arm was sore and I was sure a bruise was already developing. With this new hold on me, I was sure the bruises from early would blossom to something more noticeable.

“Are you alright?” he said with his voice vibrating from behind that mask.

As I glared up at him, angrily at him of course, I began to wonder how he breathed. I couldn’t even tell the shape of his nose or how his mouth looked.

I pulled away from him, and unlike early at the Seine he let me go.

“I am fine thank you.”
“You must be ravenous.” My father said taking note of the time on his pocket watch. “I noticed you missed luncheon.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes. “I was out for a stroll.” I muttered.

“In the gardens?” My father said shocked. “And with the Assassin?”

The Assassin held his large gloved hands up. “I assure you, my lord, she was not with me.”

“Yet, you returned her to the palace.”
“I did.” He simply replied. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have to meet the King.” He muttered leaving me along what my father.

I watched his retreating back focusing on the sound of his voice, and the way he snorted. There was something odd about this executioner. He didn’t sound like an uneducated man working for the crown. I was sure he knew how to read, and he had a substantial purse. Yes, this Assassin had a secret and I was going to find out what it was.

 

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