If it were possible, Cecilia would have paled at the mention of the stables. She hated horses. Everything about them, really. Their size, their smell... their heavy hooves that could break bones. She hated the way they stomped their feet and the sound that they made clopping across the dirt roads and cobblestone streets. Quite frankly, she was terrified of them.
But if she had to take her chances with some horses to avoid having her head roll across the prison yard, she would just have to face her fears. She chose not to mention her distaste for the stables, fearing that the soldier who seemed to be rescuing her would march her straight back to the dungeons where she belonged. Instead, she focused on the path that he was leading her on. She had known the castle quite well at one point in her life, but these halls were unfamiliar. She had never spent any amount of time visiting the dungeons before her own captivity, so there was no reason why she would know this route. She followed the soldier blindly.
When they spotted the guard, Cecilia froze. Obediently, she crept behind the soldier on bare, silent feet. However, when her escort grabbed the other man, she had to force her hand over her own mouth to stifle the gasp that escaped.
"Is he dead?" Cecilia whispered in horror as they stepped past his unconscious form and through the door. She could not keep from staring at the man's slumped body, her eyes wide.