“I shouldn’t even be surprised,” a tenor voice crooned with vicious delight from the small doorway into the cramped room. A male figure stood there with hands in his pockets. He wasn’t especially tall, but he was thoroughly muscled.

Nikkita straightened from her crouched position where she had been tying her white knee-high boots tight. The motion was slow, using the time to assess that tone and what it would mean for her. She knew there was trouble in it, just not sure how much. She resisted the urge to swallow are she meet cold, ice-blue eyes.

His square face was set in equally chilled delight, as though she was an unexpected gift found on the street. Those brutish thin lips curved slightly on either side. The large-flat nose flare as he took in a deep breath, “However, I honestly can’t say I’m disappointed.” He stepped into the room.

All the space in the room was already taken between the two small beds, a couple of wardrobes, and a couple of trunks. As he approached her, Nikkita stepped back. Suddenly, she felt like there wasn’t even any room to breathe, and his face had grown dark. She instinctively pulled her arms up defensively. The white suit she wore had some extra padding along the forearms. Not enough to stop a black, but it would deflect some of the impact from a blunt blow.

He stepped forward again. She backed up again. And her foot connected with the chest at the foot of her bed. It surprised her enough that she staggered, throwing her arms out for balance.

That was his cue. Before she could even right her balance, let alone try to dodge or block, his fist hit home on the left side of her rib cage. She choked out a sharp sound of pain with the breath the fled her lungs as she fell hard onto the floor. Even as she fought to suck air back into her lungs, he moved again. His foot connected with the left side of her stomach, just above her hip.

What little air she had gained was lost once again as the kick buckled her and forced her to roll away onto her back.

Nikkita laid there breathing and short gasps. He had knocked the wind so completely from her, that her chest seized with every attempt she made to refill her lungs. But she continued to force herself to take in more air. Her vision began to blur are the lack of oxygen hit, along with the tears. She rolled onto her right side, wrapping her arms around herself and pulling her knees up feebly.

The man gave a disgusted sound, “Your master gave you orders, and you have a job to do. Let this remind you not to disobey again.” His tone made it sound as if he looked forward to the next time she disobeyed just so he could beat her again. Then he turned on a heel and left, whistling a jaunty little tune.

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“Cruel...bastard,” Nikkita choked out after he had left and she had enough breath to speak. She coughed a bit, a few fleck of blood splattering the floor in front of her. She was shaking, but she was breathing in regular shallow breaths. Her body refused to move at all. It took several long minutes full of half-coherent thoughts intruding through the haze of pain for the shaking and adrenaline to wear off enough to ease her legs out straight and roll onto her back.

She spent another minute laying there and staring at the wooden boards of the ceiling. She brought her right arm up and draped it over her eyes as she began to thinking more clearly. First thought, no broken ribs. He had more than enough power to have broken multiple ribs, but he hadn’t. Her next thought was to consider how much longer she could lie there before she really had to finish getting ready and leave before she was paid another visit.

Far too soon, she rolled onto her stomach and  pushed onto her hands and knees. Then she reach up and used the second bed, her twin sister’s bed, to get onto her feet. Pain throbbed harshly through her left side, and she had to hunch herself inward for a bit.

But she couldn’t cater to the pain forever.

Taking a steadying breath, she stood up straight and turned to her bed where the rest of her gear and a white dress lay. There was several knives of varying size that she slowly picked up and slid into concealed places on her. The two largest were slid into her boots. Two of the smallest went into sheaths on the inside of either wrist. The hilts of those were also white, to blend into the clothes. Last was a medium length, slender dagger that slid into a sheath strapped to the inside of her thigh.

Finally, Nikkita grabbed the dress and slid it over her head. It was a plain gown, no embellishments. It wasn’t even stylish. A proper woman would’ve worn something fitted and flowing. This just hung from her shoulders loosely. It wasn’t too big, just a couple panels of fabric sewn together with long sleeves that flared out wide at the ends. With her hands at her sides, only her long, slender fingers showed. Good.

She finished with an equally plain, light gray sash tied at her waist. She looked into the mirror to make sure all of her weapons were concealed, and no movements betrayed their presence.

For a moment her mismatched eyes met their reflection. The left one was green, bright as springtime forest moss, and the left was as blue as calm waters. They were set above a small, but pert nose dotted with a few light freckles that were almost unnoticed with her skin so tanned from the summer sun. Her lips were still set in a thin grimace as her side positively thrummed. All set in a heart-shaped face that often made people mistake her for younger than her 24 years.

A small sigh escaped her as she tried to smooth the pain from her furrowed, thin eyebrows and lips. Her silver hair was already pulled up into a high ponytail and then braided to the end that brushed along her backside. For a moment she considered wrapping the braid into a bun, but dismissed it. She didn’t feel like the extra effort and it wouldn’t make any real difference for her whether is was atop her head or swaying down her back. Amusement tinged her thoughts as she considered how much more attention was attracted because of just where that braid ended.

A shake of her head sent the braid swaying, and Nikkita turned away. She needed to leave and get to the opening ceremony of the festival. Dominique was waiting, and getting caught still in the manor a second time might very well push defiance too far, even for her.