My wedding is tomorrow.
They sent me ahead for the necessary pre-wedding arrangements. That included getting fitted for the dress I'd wear while being handed over like a parcel.
I sat stiffly on a velvet couch as the designer came in, took my measurements in silence, and left just as quickly.
It was quiet now. Too quiet.
I hadn't eaten. I didn't even realize how hollow my stomach felt until the door creaked open and a maid entered. She said nothing__just walked in with a tray, bowed, and left like a ghost.
Weird.
I approached the table and lifted the silver dome.
A lemon tart.
Still warm. My favorite.
I stared at it for a moment, lips parted. Then I took a bite_just a small one.
Sweet, tangy, perfect.
I was starving. I devoured the rest.
Draven watched from the hallway.
He didn't know why he stayed to watch her eat_but he did. Maybe it was the way she paused before tasting it. Maybe it was because she actually smiled.
"Send her wine. Or juice," he told the maid.
She returned moments later, and this time I found two glasses_one with dark wine, the other with golden juice.
I didn't drink. So I picked the juice and returned to my seat, trying not to overthink it.
When I glanced at the door, I thought I saw a shadow disappear. Like someone hiding
---
Dinner was at seven.
I stood outside the dining room, hands clenched. The doors were enormous_dark oak carved with thorny iron vines.
One door creaked open. No one touched it.
Inside, a mahogany table stretched across the room, glittering with silver and crystal. Shadows danced on stone walls lit by flickering candlelight.
At the head of the table sat Draven.
Dressed in black, unmoving. He didn't even glance at me, just motioned to the seat beside him.
Not across from him_beside him.
I sat stiffly. Every nerve on edge.
The silence dragged.
I could hear the heavy tick of the antique clock above the fireplace. The faint clink of glass. The servants moved like wraiths_soundless.
I cleared my throat.
"So... You're Draven."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "What were you expecting?"
"An old bald man with brown teeth," I said before I could stop myself.
He chuckled. "Is that what you'd prefer?"
"I'd prefer not to be sold into marriage like a basket of eggs." I didn't know when it came out.
"You weren't sold. I made an offer. Your uncle accepted." He said simply.
"Same thing. No one asked what I wanted." I was frustrated about how honest he sounded.
He leaned in slightly, tone casual. "But you didn't run."
I met his gaze squarely, heartbeat unsteady. "I don't run from cages. I watch for the lock to rust."
His smile widened, slow and sharp. "Careful, cara mia. I find sharp things very interesting."
That accent_cara mia.
Does he even know what it meant?
He shouldn't say such things casually.
Dinner arrived on silver trays. Venison in red wine sauce. Herb-roasted potatoes. Saffron and steam. It smelled like luxury. Like something I didn't belong to.
Draven poured my wine himself. The color_deep crimson, almost black.
"I don't drink," I said.
"Then don't," he replied.
Silence again
"I'm not trying to make you into something you're not." He broke the silence.
That surprised me.
I looked up. His stormy eyes_grey laced with gold_were already on me.
Not cruel. Just... watching.
" Then Why me?" I asked quietly. "It could've been anyone."
"I didn't want anyone. I wanted you."
My heart skipped. His voice didn't change, but I could feel the truth in it.
"But you don't even know me."
"Don't I?"
He leaned back, set down his glass.
"You heal animals behind your house. You make your own ointments. When you were eight, you tried to save a hawk and ended up with a scar. You wear your grief like a veil. Your anger like armor. And you always sleep with your window open."
I froze.
"How the hell do you know that?"
"I do my research," he said softly. "Especially on things I intend to keep."
I went cold. "So I'm a thing now?"
His expression shifted. "No. You're a flame. And flames aren't meant to be caged. Just... watched."
He spoke like someone who had seen empires fall_and didn't mourn any of them.
"I'm not afraid of you," I whispered.
"I know," he said, leaning in. "And that makes it interesting."
We ate in silence
---
Later at night.
I couldn't sleep.
Of course I couldn't.
Tomorrow, I'd be someone's bride. A title bought and sealed in wax.
I wandered around.
The hallway was too polished. Too quiet. My bare feet made no sound, but the walls felt like they were listening.
Lightning flashed faintly outside.
I found the library by accident.
The door creaked open_not loudly, but just enough to feel like it meant something.
Inside, the room glowed with firelight. Books towered to the high ceiling, some so old they looked like they might turn to dust if I touched them.
The silence here wasn't heavy. It was... waiting.
I traced my fingers along the spines_some with strange symbols. Others in languages I couldn't read. Some of the marks glowed faintly under the candlelight. Like secrets.
Then_
I heard the sound of someone coming, I turned, only to find.....
Draven.
He stood in the doorway. Shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up, a black ink tattoo winding down his forearm. His eyes held mine_steady, unreadable.
"Can't sleep?" His voice was rough silk.
"Why do you care?" I folded my arms.
"This is my private space."
"Then I'll leave." I turned to go. I didn't want to leave. I just didn't want him to know I wanted to stay.
"Aurelia."
My name again. Like it belonged to him. Like he'd always known it.
I froze.
"What?" I asked, not quite turning.
"You don't have to leave."
He didn't mean the library. I could feel it in his voice.
I turned back slowly. "What?"
"You don't have to like me," he said. "But you'll be safe here."
"Safe like a prisoner? Or like a guest?"
His jaw tensed. He didn't answer. Just stepped forward.
I backed up until my spine met the wall.
He didn't touch me. But the space between us pulsed. Hot. Close. Dangerous.
"I chose you," he said.
My heart fluttered and I hated it.