Trespassing on Wakefield grounds

Evellyn continues into the forest, leaving the cabin and the hapless women to recede into the scenery. She keeps walking down the path for a considerable while, yet all she sees is tree after tree, and thick foliage in all directions. Even though she can still follow the road, its gentle twists and turns are beginning to leave her disoriented regarding what direction she’s ultimately heading. Her thoughts race with the urgency of finding some sign of civilization, or someone who can point her the right direction.

Her attention is drawn away from her thoughts by the sound of an animal nearby… The whinny of a horse! It came from somewhere beyond the treeline, off the road, so Evellyn begins making her way into the forest. Her eyes widen when after a short walk she spots a majestic horse tethered to a tree. A glimmer of hope ignites within her, and Evellyn approaches the horse with cautious optimism.

Yet as soon as she clears the bushes and comes near, suddenly a figure reveals themselves from nearby, with a hunting bow trained on Evellyn. Evellyn raises her hands in surprise. The figure seems as surprised as Evellyn at first, before an expression of recognition flashes across their face and turns to a mocking smile. The woman wears fine riding clothes of trimmed red leather, and has a well-kept noble bearing. Evellyn knows her well, to her displeasure. It is Lady Charlene Wakefield, one of her most ardent rivals at the duchess’ court. This stuck-up wench has always envied her high standing with the duchess, and has tried to disparage and chip away at her position for many years… and now here is Evellyn, at the other end of a hunting bow aimed at her.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Evellyn, the glorious champion! And so shabbily dressed too? Trespassing on my private estate, attempting to pilfer my horse, are we?"

Evellyn sputters a protest with evident disdain: ”Wh- I wanted nothing of the sort, Charlene! I was just looking for directions! Just point me to the city.”

The malicious glint in her rival's eyes betrays a sinister intent. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," Charlene tuts condescendingly. "How low of you to try to deny your banditry. Crimes such as these demand recompense. And since you’re on my land I have the authority to have you work off your transgressions, my dear Evellyn. Either that or jail."

Charlene cocks her head and thoughtfully looks Evellyn up and down for a moment: ”Strip.”