Blood Moon

Prologue
The persistent, escalating commotion in the courtyard finally roused Aslyn from sleep. Alarm should have jolted her awake, should have galvanized her into instant action. At any other time, her mind would instantly have responded to the sounds that could mean nothing but danger. Instead, a heaviness pervaded her senses, as if she'd drank too much wine or mead.
Her sluggish mind connected with that thought, meandering along it until she recalled the celebration the night before. Her father had announced her betrothal to Wilhem of Leitsey Marr.
She had been reasonably satisfied with her father's choice of husband. He was an older man, nearing thirty, but not so old that she felt repelled by his age, and he had attained some note as a warrior. He was not hard on the eyes, either, for which she was grateful.
Twenty six did seem a little old to a fifteen year old girl, particularly since she'd hoped to make a match nearer her own age, but she was certain she had not imbibed more than she should have, either from excessive delight, or anxiety.
The direction of her thoughts finally roused her sufficiently that she pushed herself upright and looked around. The tower room was dark still, barely lighter than it had been when she'd doused the candles and climbed into her bed the night before. The sun could not have risen.
Why then did it seem the entire keep was aroused and moving about as if they were well into the new day's activities?
As she was striving to puzzle through it, she realized she was covered in a chilled, sticky wetness. She looked down at herself then and a new wave of confusion swept over her.
She was nude. What had happened to her gown? More importantly, what was the substance she was coated with?
Her hands, her entire body was splotched with the sticky residue. She held out her hands, peering at them in the dim light. Slowly, her eyes focused. Slowly the dark patches attained a rusty hue.
Blood.