Damn their parents! Damn the guards! At least they could have given her a tiny chance to escape! Where was the equality of opportunity?! Arabella stared gloomily out of the carriage window. Jerking, but much too fast for her taste, they moved towards their destination. The castle of her future husband.  She clawed her hands into the fine fabric of the wedding dress. She had to find a way out! Cautiously she squinted at the stupidly grinning soldier who accompanied the carriage on his horse. If she counted the coachman away, it was one against one. She against the soldier. Unfortunately, he had a horse and she was wearing a dress that weighed a ton. That was just not fair!  Why did the Duke want to marry her anyway? Her family barely owned the dirt under their nails.  Oh God, either her future husband was a pervert or an ancient geezer. Arabella's mind raced. What if he was neither? But rather a maniacal mass murderer, with a penchant for brides?!  She turned ash-pale. The knight in her company interpreted the sudden loss of her complexion as nervousness and made an attempt to cheer her up.

"Rest assured my lady my lord may be eccentric, that his last wife ran away from him was really not his fault. You will not find a better master of the blade in all the Empire." Arabella's eyes grew the size of plates.  Screams and the wild beating of hooves coming faster broke through her thoughts.  Bandits?!