I woke up to the harsh sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains of the guest room. My entire body ached. I was still wrapped in the heavy red bridal dress, which now felt more like a shroud than a symbol of celebration. I had cried myself to sleep on the cold, hard floor, lacking even the energy to climb into the unfamiliar, sterile bed.
Dragging myself up, I caught my reflection in the massive vanity mirror. Smeared makeup. Red, swollen eyes. Messy hair. I looked like the ghost of a bride.
With trembling hands, I managed to find a simple, faded cotton suit in the small suitcase my family had sent with me—the same family that had practically sold me to the devil to save their own crumbling empire.
Stepping out of the room, the sheer scale of Rudra's mansion hit me. It was breathtakingly beautiful, yet absolutely terrifying. High vaulted ceilings, imported marble floors that echoed with every step, and an air of suffocating, lonely silence.
"You are late."
The sharp voice cut through the silence like a whip. I flinched and turned to see an older woman standing at the bottom of the grand staircase. She was dressed in a crisp, spotless saree, her face set in lines of permanent disapproval.
"I... I'm sorry," I stammered, descending the stairs carefully. "I don't know my way around yet."
"I am Mrs. Verma, the head housekeeper," she said coldly, not offering even a trace of a welcoming smile. "In this house, breakfast is served precisely at eight in the morning. Sir has already left for the office. But he left very strict instructions regarding you."
My heart hammered painfully against my ribs. "Instructions?"
"Yes." Mrs. Verma looked me up and down, her eyes full of undisguised contempt. It was clear she knew exactly why I was brought here. "You are not to enter the West Wing—that is Sir's private sanctuary. You are not to use the main dining hall. Your meals will be sent to the small conservatory at the back. And most importantly, you are forbidden from leaving the mansion gates without Sir's explicit permission."
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "So, I am a prisoner."
Mrs. Verma didn't flinch. "You are whatever Sir says you are. Now, go to the conservatory. And do not make a habit of wandering around. Sir hates it when useless things get in his way."
As she walked away, leaving me standing alone on the cold stairs, the terrifying reality of my situation finally sank in. Rudra hadn't just married me to punish my father. He had brought me here to slowly break my spirit, day by day, in this beautiful, golden cage.
But as I clenched my fists, a tiny spark of defiance flickered in my chest. He might have caged me, but I wouldn't let him destroy me so easily.