"I am to be punished..."

She led him gently into the Manor, her hand guiding his, and he followed her, silently. He trusted her, but not enough to keep from asking the foremost question on his mind.

"Why does he hunt you?"

Her voice was quiet for many minutes, and then she replied.

"Because he wants to make me his. He has a strange, perverse sense of love, and he wants me. He wants me to belong to him."

He was silent for a few moments, but his need to know overtook caution.

"Why does he hunt me?"

"Because you love me. Because you were willing to protect me."

He frowned.

"I am your friend, no more, no less."

She said nothing as she led him up the stairs, towards the roof, their hands curled around one another like lovers.

"It matters not to him. You are the enemy, because you offered me a home, music, a family."

He made her stop, held her face in his hands on the stairwell.

"So," he said quietly, "I am to punished for loving you."

She broke away, resumed her climb to the roof.

When she did speak, her voice was dark and flat, like lead.

"Yes," she said dully, "you are to be punished for loving me."

And he watched the sun gleam off the veined block of marble as the stepped onto the balcony.