While I was taking a bath, I started reflecting on my life and everything that had happened so far. At twenty-five, I felt lost. Decisions had always been made for me, as if I wasn't capable of choosing for myself, and this time, my opinion didn't seem to matter either.
The truth was, after my mother died, I felt completely unmotivated. What was the point? Be born, study, get married, have children, die. That was my mother's life, and I suppose the life of most mothers. Why would mine be any different? What was the purpose of dreaming if circumstances rarely allowed anyone to fulfill those dreams?
My mother was a good person, and that didn't help her when she got sick. Heaven took her away, leaving her last words echoing in my head: "Forgive me, my sweet angel, I only tried to protect you from them."
For a long time, I thought she was talking about my father's family and their greed over the inheritance. But years later, it didn't seem like that was the case. I had ended up here with a cowardly, debt-ridden father who couldn't face anything with his head held high.
I hoped I hadn't inherited that from him. His black hair and eyes were already more than enough. From my mother, I inherited long lashes, full lips, and small, fragile body-frame. I don't know if the last one is a good thing, but it reminded me of her, and that made me happy.
Suddenly, tears started falling like raindrops into the tub. I felt alone. In the middle of all that luxury, all those scents, and a bath fit for a princess, I couldn't find myself. I couldn't understand how my father had left me like this—without saying goodbye, without giving me a chance to choose. This was it. Suddenly, the bath didn't feel comforting anymore.
I jumped out, full of anger and sadness. I looked for my suitcase to get dressed and picked the ugliest thing I could find. I wasn't going to let Lord Declan find me attractive. I had bought that dress specifically to be unappealing. It was perfect—faded yellow, uneven ribbons, and far more revealing than necessary. A delight for judgmental eyes. Maybe that would make him change his mind and let me go.
A sharp pang hit my stomach when I thought about the debt. Was I really going to let my family fall into ruin? My little brothers? The thought made my stomach twist.
Someone knocked on the door, interrupting my thoughts.
—Miss Sereniah, dinner is served —a voice called through the door—. May I come in?
—Come in —I said coldly.
Mrs. M walked in, and the surprise on her face was impossible to hide. She gave me a quick look from head to toe, narrowing her eyes slightly. She knew exactly what I was trying to do; after all, she was a woman too. She decided not to comment and simply gestured for me to follow her.
We walked through the hallways of the house. It was tidy, but not warm. There were empty spaces, no signs of family anywhere. Maybe Lord Declan, despite having everything, was a very lonely man. I almost felt sorry for him—for a second.
We reached the dining room. He was sitting at the end of the table, and his gaze didn't leave me for a moment. The shiver returned. I caught him examining my dress—seriously—from head to toe. I sat down, keeping my expression unreadable, my hands near my mouth, elbows resting on the table. Provoking him was my priority. You wanted a lady? Well, this is what you got.
Mrs. M left the room—probably to get the food—and I decided to break the silence.
—Well... —I whispered.
He cut me off.
—It'll take more than a dress to make me change my mind, Lady D'Arell —he said with a sly, playful smile.
—I don't know what you're talking about —I replied, chin high, eyes defiant.
—All right. I'm not one to judge other people's tastes. You can wear whatever you want. There are people here who love dancing naked under a full moon; who am I to stop them?
I blushed.
—You let people walk around naked? But this is your island—you should set some rules.
—I prefer people naked over that dress —he replied darkly, his tone cutting.
—Shameless! How disrespectful! —I slammed my hand on the table and stood up, outraged—. Are you implying that I...? Oh my God! No one has ever spoken to me like that.
He rose immediately, his face full of regret. Gently, he took hold of my arm to stop me from leaving.
—I'm sorry. Please don't go. I'm a little nervous and I don't know what I'm saying. Please, accept my apology.
I nodded silently, just looking at him for a moment. He released my arm and took a deep breath.
—Thank you —he whispered.
—Did you just say you're nervous? I don't see how someone like you could be.
—Someone like me? What do you mean?
—Well, you're a lord, the owner of an island. I imagine business is good, you've got an entire village at your service, you're handsome, eloquent, surrounded by servants—
—You find me handsome? —he interrupted, curious.
—Don't test me... —I said firmly, my gaze piercing through him.
—All right, all right. I'll behave.
—Then, back to the point, why are you nervous?
—The truth is... I wanted to wait a few days to tell you this, but—
Mrs. M interrupted him with two more servants carrying dinner trays. Everything smelled delicious. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until that moment. Dinner was quiet but exquisite. The servants waited for us to finish before clearing everything away. Finally, they left us alone.
He fixed his intimidating gaze on me again. He inhaled deeply before speaking.
—All right, what questions do you have? I'll answer whatever you want.
Questions? I had too many. Why me? What do you know about me? Why did you agree to this? Why aren't you already married? Why do you want a child? How long have you been negotiating with my father? Why agree to a kidnapping? What's wrong with you?
All of it raced through my mind at once. I didn't know where to start. I was overwhelmed. But what came out of my mouth was:
—After everything I did today, do you still want to marry me?
—I gave my word that I would —he replied quickly, without hesitation. But something in his tone told me he had more to say. Still, the words came out cold, emotionless.
It hurt more than I wanted to admit. Maybe it was pride. A man was marrying me not out of love, but out of duty. My life, from the outside, must have looked pathetic. What was the point of being smart, beautiful or kind—if everything came down to a damn transaction? A contract.
I lowered my gaze, sinking into my thoughts.
He watched my expression carefully, then finally spoke again.
—Any other questions? —he asked softly.
—Why did you agree to this?
—There are things you wouldn't understand. At least not yet. But to put it simply, I'm a lord who needs a legitimate heir. I enjoy my solitude and live on an island. Women of your class usually prefer the court or the city, and you... after fleeing from the altar twice, let's just say your market value isn't very high. But your family name is. Your father needed a way out of his debts and I had the money. I suppose it's simple.
Something in me whispered that he was trying to sound distant, detached. That he wasn't telling me everything. But I decided to keep the conversation going.
—So to you, I'm just a transaction? —I shot back.
—If that's how you want to see it —he answered, turning his gaze away.
I growled under my breath.
He ran a hand through his long, copper hair in frustration.
—Look, you and I both know that arranged marriages aren't uncommon here. You'll live comfortably. Once you give me that heir, I'll leave you alone. You'll be free to live however you pleased—even visit the city as often as you like. All we have to do is stay married. That's it.
—Something tells me you don't believe in love —I said. It was obvious his words were hiding more than they revealed. Everything pointed to the fact that he needed me... but didn't want me close.
—How many couples do you know who truly love each other? —he asked.
Only one. And it wasn't my parents, I thought.
—That doesn't mean it doesn't exist —I replied.
—Love is a child's game. It fades in a few months. It's human nature, and everyone here is condemned to live with it —he said it like someone stepping outside of a dream.
I don't know how, but his words struck me as sad. A part of me felt bad for him. I tried to push the feeling away and stayed silent.
The atmosphere grew heavy, the air thick between us. We sat in silence, both lost in our own thoughts, until he finally broke it.
—Well, I think this is a good place to start —he said, changing the subject—. Would you like to see the garden? It's beautiful.
—Why not? —I answered. If I had to stay here for a few days before deciding how to escape, I might as well get to know the place.
—This island is a little different from what you're used to. There are some... —he paused— ...exotic things. Don't be afraid. Just try to stay calm if you see something strange.
—What do you mean? —my curiosity spiked in seconds.
—Let's see if the island wants to be seen tonight.
What?
We walked into the garden, the moonlight illuminating every corner. I found myself admiring the flowers, breathing in the scent of the sea. For the first time since I arrived, I felt a brief sense of peace. Maybe this wouldn't be so terrible after all.
Then, Declan stopped abruptly. I felt a small vibration under my feet. The wind picked up.
—We should go back —he said.
—What's happening?
His eyes were fixed on the far end of the garden, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't see anything. I asked again. No answer. The third time, he simply said "Let's go" and took my hand without thinking. The wind shifted direction violently.
What?
When we reached the entrance of the house, I pulled my hand away sharply. What was that?
He clenched his jaw.
—Aren't you going to tell me anything?
—We'll talk tomorrow —he barely whispered. And just like that, he was gone.