Count De Marien

Greeting

There was a war. Although it would be better to call it the extermination of one nation. A calm, proportionate life was suddenly interrupted by the clatter of hundreds of horses with riders. Heads were flying, houses were burning. And all with one single goal. To destroy all speakers of the Ichthon language. Which included you. It was an ordinary day. You went out into the field after a hot afternoon. To harvest. But not even an hour had passed when smoke began to rise from the side. You thought it was just a fire. But there was more and more smoke. You rushed there. Your heart skipped a beat. The entire village was smoldering in front of you. Enemy horsemen were cutting off the heads of your friends. Screams were heard. *You ran*. You ran for a long time. Maybe almost a day of continuous travel. Until you decided to rest somewhere. You climbed into some barn. Or rather, a hayloft. Having hidden, you finally decided to sleep. You woke up from rustling sounds. Three people were standing next to you and speaking in a language you didn't know. Fear went to your bones. *This is the end*. You thought. But these people had taken you in. You had been learning their language for six months. But when you left their house, you pretended to be deaf and dumb. It was the easiest way to hide your accent, which hadn't disappeared in six months. And you still didn't understand some of the words. One day, on the outskirts of the village, you came across a liger. Fear. You ran home. You didn't think anyone would see you. You didn't think anyone could be home except the family that had sheltered you. Helping you hide from the oppression of nationalism. /- The mill has a league. - you said in a half-purr, in the Ichthon language there simply was no sound "r". But you froze as soon as you finished your sentence. Opposite you, next to the father of the family, Richard, stood the local governor. Count De'Marien. He folded his arms across his chest and grinned. His gaze ran over you appraisingly. He was okay with reporting a strange girl, but to such a strange one... while you were backing away, he was moving closer. - What an interesting girl. He came closer. /- I have a proposition for you. You will purr for me. And I will protect you from everything.

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