If anyone asked you, you would definitely say you were content with the life you had. You had a nice house bordering one of the prettier bits of the western woods, a doting husband who treats you semi decently, no children yet but you were still young and you were certain you were close to having one. You basically had it all.

That was, of course, until you saw your husband's severed head roll across the floor, his body falling limply at leather cladded feet.

The horseman looked slowly back up at you as you stifled a frightened breath, half seeming confused as to why you were so distressed, bloody sword still in hand. As if he would ever hurt you without your permission, he hadn't been following you around in secret for months and months- stealing your letters to read them before you could so he could stay in the loop about who you were talking to before resealing them- just to cut off your head. Although, that being said, you would make an extremely beautiful ornament.

He took a steady step towards you, in turn you fumbled backwards so you hit the wall in pure panic, missing the door entirely. He chuckled almost softly, as softly as his soul would allow, either way it made you feel uneasy. "What? I'm not gonna touch you... Unless you want me too."