The air was cooler here, infused with the strong, earthy scent of damp foliage. In any other circumstance, Meribella would have relished the serene beauty around her, allowing it to calm her mind. But she was full of questions. A particular thought nagged at her, driven by the oddities she noticed upon their arrival. She was aware that Raze would likely not provide clear answers.
She tried anyway, "Why wasn't the carriage waiting near your mansion when we arrived?" The thought that the carriage might be rented rather than belonging to Lord Azkariel crossed her mind. In many villages, there were carriages that provided shuttle service. It transported passengers to specific locations if they did not have a carriage of their own.
Given Lord Raze Azkariel's status, it seemed odd for him to rely on such a humble form of transportation. But then again, he could teleport from one place to another, so what was the need for a carriage anyway? This contradiction only fueled Meribella's curiosity. The more she sought answers, the more she felt as if she were being sucked into quicksand.
"Does your leg hurt from walking a little bit, princess?" Raze, a tall and imposing figure with piercing eyes and a sharp jawline, responded with sarcasm that didn't sit well with her. Since they had met he only mocked her, underestimated her capabilities. And she hated him for it.
'Could the lords of Ravencrest actually be... poor?' she wondered silently.
"I don't even see your mansion nearby. How much farther do we have to go?" She was testing him, challenging his patience with questions as much as seeking answers. "Lord Azkariel, a-are you poor?" It was irrelevant whether he was indeed poor. Meribella simply wanted to provoke him to spill some beans. Maybe then she might figure out why she was abducted and what the lords wanted to do with her.
Raze continued walking. He responded without missing a step. "What does 'poor' mean to you, Meribella Faye?"
Here we go; the notorious wisdom was on the verge of spilling from him. Meribella rolled her eyes and gave up on finding any answer from him. This time, she chose not to respond to him. Now, she will give him the cold shoulder. She wanted him to experience what it feels like when you don't receive your answers. That idea brought a secret smile to her face.
The more they walked in silence, the more Meribella's joyful moments began to shatter. Raze didn't ask her anything or look at her, which only heightened her annoyance at his apparent indifference.
'Did he just ask her that question to silence me so he could walk in peace?' She pondered.
She glanced at Raze from the corner of her eye. She searched for any sign of interest or irritation and found nothing but quietness on his face and in his walk.
When Raze suddenly halted, Meribella stopped as well.
"We are home!" He announced with no hint of warmth or smile in his voice or face. Meribella's eyes flickered to him for a brief moment, perplexed. When a person refers to a place as home, one would expect a feeling of relaxation or satisfaction to accompany those words. So, why did Raze lack any emotion—no comfort or belonging on his face or voice?
Removing her gaze from Raze, Meribella looked at the mansion with a disbelieving stare. It had no boundaries or gates, no guards standing at the entrance as a security measure, and no grand garden pathway leading up to the house. Instead, two massive trees flanked either side of the structure. Their branches stretch protectively over the property.
The mansion itself was a two-storey bigger house made of high-quality wood, with large windows that brought in the light. Colourful flowers adorned the windowsills, softening the home's overall appearance with natural beauty.
"Is this your home, Lord Azkariel?" she managed to ask, turning her attention to Raze in a state of bafflement. Even Brindlewood, the wealthiest landowner where her father worked, had a grand mansion complete with gates, security, and sturdy concrete walls. The sight before her was a stark contrast to her expectations of a lord's residence. Perhaps not all lords enjoyed the same level of wealth, she mused.
That makes sense: no one ever entered Ravencrest, and there was no trade with neighbouring lands. So, probably, they are not as rich as other lords, Meribella tried to reason.
Meribella wasn't judging Azkariel based on his home; she found the situation unusual, and it caught her off guard. This was not what she had expected, and it stirred up her curiosity about his life.
"Yes, it is," Raze confirmed, his tone neutral. "Do you find it to your liking?" Raze turned to look at Meribella, "Even if you did not like it, I am sure you will in time." That statement irritated Meribella. She understood the underlying meaning.
"I do not like it, and it's different," she asserted, her tone dripping with disdain as she tried to be disrespectful to him. "This is not what I expected from a lord's residence."
"Expectations lead to disappointments," Raze replied coolly, unfazed by her attempt to unsettle him.
Her frown deepened, her arms crossing defiantly over her chest. "I don't think I could ever consider this place home," she declared, turning her gaze away to emphasize her displeasure.
"Whether you accept it or not, this is where you will stay," Raze stated firmly, his expression hardening.
"You brought me here against my will, and now you expect me to settle in such a small house?" Meribella's voice rose with anger. "I was about to live in a royal palace if you hadn't kidnapped me. My parents would have regained their lost status and lived a happy life. You ruined it all, Lord Azkariel," she accused, her words sharp as knives.
Her anger wasn't just about the house or her lost future; it was about the entire upheaval of her life, which Raze seemed to dismiss with irritating indifference. "Y-you said I would have a higher status than other noblewomen. You lied to me," she gestured dismissively at the house, then jabbed a finger towards him.
She didn't like looking down at Lord Azkariel. This was not who she was, but deep down she wanted higher status in society where people bow to her and fear to speak against her or her family. She had seen her family suffer the humiliation of their lost status. It ached her heart.
From a very young age, Meribella was determined to regain the respect of her family and marrying Edwyn was the most successful way to do it. Just when she felt she was on the brink of achieving her dreams and becoming Edwyn's wife, Lord Azkariel came like a storm and took everything away from her.
"You promised answers once we reached home. Now tell me why you kidnapped me? I want to know the real reason."
Raze locked eyes with Meribella, "We're still standing outside, little witch," he said calmly. "Should we go inside?" His casual use of 'little witch' only heightened her irritation, and she felt a flicker of anxiety—what if he trapped her once they were behind closed doors? Not that she did not feel trapped now, but what if something worse awaited her behind the door?
The thought made Meribella freeze, her feet refusing to move forward. She almost knew nothing about him or his plans. Her eyes darted around the silent grounds.
'Where are the other lords if there's supposed to be a wedding?' she wondered. 'Shouldn't there be celebrations, decorations, or at least some sign that they plan to welcome a bride?' But there was nothing—just this house, blending into the natural surroundings. Not that she wanted to be the Ravencrest bride.
'Why me?' echoed in her head.
Raze glanced back at her and noticed her tight frown, her fingers anxiously fidgeting. Without a word, he stepped back to her side, his presence large and unsettling.
"Are you hoping to be treated like a newlywed, Meribella?" Raze questioned her genuinely. However, Meribella was oblivious to his words and was lost in her thoughts.
He gently took hold of her wrist, pulling her out of her downward spiral of questions. Then, he quietly led her into his home, leaving her worries trailing in the silence of the entryway.
When the door opened, Raze and Meribella met two pairs of eyes sitting on the sofa, holding a book in his hand. She cast one last glance behind her at the peaceful path, wishing she could walk back the way she came. But Raze was already pulling her onward, and her life she could feel it—was about to take another unexpected turn.
As soon as Meribella and Raze crossed the threshold, the man sitting on the couch looked up, his expression shifting from boredom to pure astonishment. His eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the surreal scene before him: Raze, the formidable figure known for his ruthless demeanour, was holding the hand of a woman dressed in stunning torn bridal attire.
The fabric of the gown glimmered, but it was Raze's cloak that enveloped her shoulders, an unexpected symbol of protection from someone so feared. It was none other than Meribella Faye—his heart raced, and the gravity of the moment hit him like a thunderbolt. The shocking sight left him momentarily speechless, struggling to comprehend how this unlikely pairing could exist before him.
"What?"