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Aileen had spurned him…

A poor servant girl with no wealth and no prospects had turned him, Edwin Wellington the second, down. How exactly she had enraptured him in the first place was a mystery; when one is in line to succeed his father in presiding over the Duchy of Northumbria, one has no shortage of ladies waiting for him to ask for their hand. Ladies from powerful families, with servants waiting on them and tending to their every desire. Ladies that would make dutiful, obedient wives, grateful to serve him and bear heirs of pure lineage. Ladies from prestigious bloodlines, not quite as notable as his own, but worthy of his advances, unlike a certain filthy peasant girl, one oblivious to the fortune that had landed in her lap. The chance at a life of luxurious comforts, but Aileen had thrown that out. Threw out the exotic bouquet of tiger lilies and fire blossom tulips, that he picked specifically for her. Threw his heart down into the mud, then stomped on it in front of him.

Edwin watched the golden light of setting sun glint off Aileen’s hair as the guards led her through the gathering crowd. He was tempted to preserve a lock of that bewitching auburn hair for himself, but thought better to consult Father Matias on the matter. The Wellingtons had a longstanding history with the local churches; the Bishop presiding over Northumberland had once dined at his father’s table. He was disappointed but unsurprised when the priest cautioned against the dangers of doing so, and admonished him for even considering it.
“If that girl has indeed enchanted you with her unnatural charms, then we must take every precaution to ensure that no part of her remains after the execution.” Father Matias’s aging shaky hands rubbed off some invisible dust from an opulent golden cross. “Otherwise the evil spirit that controls poor Aileen may be able to posses a new victim. She used to be such a sweet child, but it’s too late for her it seems.” The priest’s words trailed off, and he proceeded to clean more invisible dust off the already polished gold.

Aileen, now bound to the stake, mouthed silent prayers to the sky, interrupted by her subdued sobbing. Her face was wet with tears now, a vain effort to manipulate his emotions one last time. She even made a show of putting brave face for a time, but the crowd did not acknowledge her conniving attempts to gain their sympathy. The quiet murmur from before had turned into jeering and mocking of her predicament and pleas. She had been forced to wear tattered rags and her hair was now disheveled, but it did nothing to diminish her beguiling charms and beauty. Blood rushed into his cheeks, Aileen had caught him staring at her and was now glaring at him with with loathing. Edwin’s well manicured hands suddenly become the most riveting object he could look at. He wondered if it was actually possible for her to send invisible daggers at him with her eyes.

The anguish and agonizing pain that had been smoldering in his chest all evening flared up. If she was going to employ witchcraft to coerce his affections for her, why did she not follow through with her deception, and end his heartache by accepting his proposal? It was a game to her, ensnaring hopeful young men with her alluring mystique, toying with them until she’s had her cruel fun, then dashing their hopes when they lost her interest.

By sunrise no trace of her would remain, and she would never torment another heart again.

Description
Aileen had spurned him…

A poor servant girl with no wealth and no prospects had turned him, Edwin Wellington the second, down. How exactly she had enraptured him in the first place was a mystery; when one is in line to succeed his father in presiding over the Duchy of Northumbria, one has no shortage of ladies waiting for him to ask for their hand. Ladies from powerful families, with servants waiting on them and tending to their every desire. Ladies that would make dutiful, obedient wives, grateful to serve him and bear heirs of pure lineage. Ladies from prestigious bloodlines, not quite as notable as his own, but worthy of his advances, unlike a certain filthy peasant girl, one oblivious to the fortune that had landed in her lap. The chance at a life of luxurious comforts, but Aileen had thrown that out. Threw out the exotic bouquet of tiger lilies and fire blossom tulips, that he picked specifically for her. Threw his heart down into the mud, then stomped on it in front of him.

Edwin watched the golden light of setting sun glint off Aileen’s hair as the guards led her through the gathering crowd. He was tempted to preserve a lock of that bewitching auburn hair for himself, but thought better to consult Father Matias on the matter. The Wellingtons had a longstanding history with the local churches; the Bishop presiding over Northumberland had once dined at his father’s table. He was disappointed but unsurprised when the priest cautioned against the dangers of doing so, and admonished him for even considering it.
“If that girl has indeed enchanted you with her unnatural charms, then we must take every precaution to ensure that no part of her remains after the execution.” Father Matias’s aging shaky hands rubbed off some invisible dust from an opulent golden cross. “Otherwise the evil spirit that controls poor Aileen may be able to posses a new victim. She used to be such a sweet child, but it’s too late for her it seems.” The priest’s words trailed off, and he proceeded to clean more invisible dust off the already polished gold.

Aileen, now bound to the stake, mouthed silent prayers to the sky, interrupted by her subdued sobbing. Her face was wet with tears now, a vain effort to manipulate his emotions one last time. She even made a show of putting brave face for a time, but the crowd did not acknowledge her conniving attempts to gain their sympathy. The quiet murmur from before had turned into jeering and mocking of her predicament and pleas. She had been forced to wear tattered rags and her hair was now disheveled, but it did nothing to diminish her beguiling charms and beauty. Blood rushed into his cheeks, Aileen had caught him staring at her and was now glaring at him with with loathing. Edwin’s well manicured hands suddenly become the most riveting object he could look at. He wondered if it was actually possible for her to send invisible daggers at him with her eyes.

The anguish and agonizing pain that had been smoldering in his chest all evening flared up. If she was going to employ witchcraft to coerce his affections for her, why did she not follow through with her deception, and end his heartache by accepting his proposal? It was a game to her, ensnaring hopeful young men with her alluring mystique, toying with them until she’s had her cruel fun, then dashing their hopes when they lost her interest.

By sunrise no trace of her would remain, and she would never torment another heart again.