The mansion was silent, too silent. Luna followed behind the maid who had been instructed to show her to her quarters. The woman kept her head bowed, steps careful, as though afraid of the very walls themselves.
"Here, miss," the maid murmured softly, pausing at a polished oak door. But her eyes flickered to the angry red lines marring Luna's throat. Pity crossed her face. "You're hurt… let me fetch something for the cuts."
Luna shook her head, a faint smile curving her peach lips. "No, please don't trouble yourself. They'll be gone before morning."
The maid frowned, but said nothing more. After offering a quick bow, she slipped out, leaving Luna alone.
Luna turned to the mirror. Her reflection stared back, stormy grey eyes ringed with weariness, dark hair framing her pale skin. She lifted a hand to her throat, brushed her fingers across the wounds… and they vanished, fading as though they had never been there at all.
Her chest tightened. This secret, this curse, followed her everywhere.
Restless, she left the room, her bare feet quiet against the marble floor. The mansion stretched endlessly, grand corridors, heavy doors, the cold stench of power lingering in every corner. She drifted toward one door, drawn to the faint glow spilling out from beneath it. Just as her hand reached for the handle…
A brutal force yanked her back.
Luna stumbled, crashing against the hard chest of the man who had claimed her. Damiano's grip on her arm was iron, his jaw clenched in fury.
"What do you think you're doing?" His voice was a roar in the silence, sharp enough to split her in two. "Never wander this house without permission. Ever."
Her lips parted, but no sound came. Her heart raced, her body shook, yet she did not fight. She had been beaten down too many times to resist.
Damiano's eyes narrowed. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or can't you speak at all?"
She inhaled, gathering courage to answer but before a word could leave her mouth, he shoved her hard. She hit the floor with a gasp, pain flaring through her body.
He grabbed a fistful of her dark hair, jerking her head back until her stormy eyes met his. "Listen well, little bride," he spat. "You may have fooled your family with that sweet, innocent act. But in this house, you'll speak when spoken to. You'll move when I allow it. And if you step out of line…" his grip tightened, cruel, "…you'll regret breathing."
Tears blurred her vision, burning hot as they slid down her cheeks. He released her suddenly, the force making her collapse against the floor once more. Without another word, Damiano turned and strode out, the slam of the door shaking the room.
Luna remained on the ground, trembling, silent sobs wracking her small frame. In this house, she was nothing.
And yet, in the deepest part of her soul, something stirred something that refused to remain nothing forever.