*Špread Ŷour Ŵings*

[. εғғч .]

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "I could take a challenge." She sighed, glancing at the man that was yanked out of his cell. "I choose him, and no one else."

[Scottish Girl]

The guards looked confused, but nodded softly,"ahoy heard her," he said with a sigh and handed her a sheaf of papers,"Sign these, once you have signed them you are legally his owner," he said, rather reluctantly. Andrew was looking at her curiously, the guard still had a tight grip on Andrew, and Andrew didn't bother to struggle.

[. εғғч .]

Isabelle snatched the pile of papers away from them and pulled a feathered pen out of her pocket before leaning up against the wall, holding the paper against it. After she was finished scribbling her name on several lines, she gave the sheets back to them.

[Scottish Girl]

One of the guards checked them over before sighing softly,"Congratulations, you own one of the most expensive slaves I have ever sold, but I will not be sad to see the back of him," he said and the guard holding Andrew tied his hands behind his back before pushin him up the stairs.

[. εғғч .]

Isabelle nodded. "I can take it from here." She muttered before grabbing Andrew's arm carefully, and led him up the stairs. Behind the two, her father glared in anger at his daughter.

[Scottish Girl]

The guards watched them leave,"How long do you reckon she will last?" one asked the other. The other guard laughed,"Less then a week," he said and they went back to work. Andrew flinched slightly as she took hold of his arm, and he blinked as hey came up into the light.

[. εғғч .]

Isabelle felt his flick as their skin had touched each others. "Don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt you." She whispered in his ear soothingly, directing him to the carriage.

[Scottish Girl]

Andrew swallowed, not fully believing her, but he didn't struggle. He bit his lip and gor into the carriage, biting his lip nervously and looking out the window, trying not to look at Isabelle as he did it. He strake d against the ropes holding his hands, but with a small sigh he gave up.

[. εғғч .]

"Father, get me a knife." Isabelle commanded fiercely.
The king huffed and grabbed a knife from his boot, handing it to his daughter.
Isabelle smiled gratefully and let her gaze fall on Andrew. "Give me your hands."

[Scottish Girl]

Andrew looked at her, then nervously stretched out his hands so she could cut the ropes binding his hands. He groaned softly as they came loose, and he rubbed his wrists, feeling blood flow back into his hands. He sat back with a sigh of releif, keeping his gaze fixed on the window as they passed trees, lakes and other houses.