Clatter, clatter.
She stepped into the carriage bearing the Soltaire crest, looking back toward her parents, who had stepped outside merely to observe decorum.
Wide smiles stretched across their faces; they looked far happier than when they had sold their eldest daughter.
For her part, Anasta felt glad as well. Thanks to the Soltaire family, she would finally be free of that wretched house.
As for her husband? His days were already numbered.
When he eventually passed, she would become a widow and claim her freedom.
Then she would take her money, track down her elder sister—who had been married off first and was living in a miserable hell—and they would make a life together.
So Anasta felt nothing but gratitude toward her situation.
“We are departing.”
The carriage door shut, and the heavy wheels began to turn.
Anasta cast one final glance back at the count’s estate, a place colder and bleaker than midwinter.
The surrounding scenery offered no warmth either.
The streets lay slushy and foul from the melting snow.
Once condensation clouded the windowpane entirely, Anasta turned her impassive gaze ahead.
“I am the Head Maid, and I shall attend to your needs.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Before we reach the estate, I would ask one thing. Have you taken your bridal lessons seriously?”
The Head Maid’s question hung between them.
“You need not worry. I have practiced them diligently for years.”
“I take it you have fully mastered aristocratic etiquette, decorum, and theory, then.”
“Yes. House Soltaire will find no fault in me.”
Unfazed, Anasta held the Head Maid’s gaze without wavering.
“I certainly hope so.”
“What will be expected of me upon arrival?”
“First, you will greet the Master and the Madam. Afterward, you will be shown to your chambers.”
“And the young master… the man who is to be my husband? Shall I not greet him?”
“The young master is currently in a very delicate state. That will have to wait.”
“Understood.”
Anasta was not surprised.
This marriage had undoubtedly caught him off guard as well.
“The young master also has a younger brother within the ducal household.”
“I am aware.”
“He is currently away at school, though he will return shortly. Should you cross paths with him, offer only a basic greeting. Do not engage in private conversation.”
The Head Maid spoke firmly.
“As you were previously informed, the wedding will take place six months from now. Once married, you will receive a fixed percentage of the second young master’s estate. Until then, you will be granted an allowance to maintain an appearance befitting your station.”
“Very well.”
Anasta nodded.
“Lastly, you may not leave the estate without permission. Even walks through the grounds require a maid’s escort. Any external activities outside approved social circles are strictly forbidden.”
“May I send letters?”
“Only with my prior approval.”
That meant she intended to inspect them first before making a decision.
Such strict precautions stemmed from the fear that Anasta might fall for another man.
She was beautiful, an exquisite gentlewoman who had perfected every standard of propriety.
House Soltaire had no intention of letting such a prized match slip through their fingers.
Anasta nodded calmly, as though ready to accept whatever was required.
“Leaving your home today must have taken its toll. After you speak with the Madam and hear the household expectations, you may rest. Once the young master grows somewhat accustomed to your presence, we will assign your duties.”
“Understood.”
Having said her piece, the Head Maid offered nothing more.
Instead, she merely watched Anasta’s posture with trained eyes.
She clearly meant to scold the girl the moment her posture slipped, but Anasta remained perfectly still and composed.
The Head Maid could not fathom why a woman like this had been sold off to a dying man, yet she showed neither pity nor warmth.
Once pity took root, it knew no end.
Especially when this girl was not merely walking into the Soltaire household, but onto a path that could shatter her entire life.
Randily, a village on the outskirts of the capital, was renowned for its blooms.
It boasted sprawling parks, a vast lake, and a bustling market.
Everyone who lived there seemed wealthy and comfortable.
After turning off an inner road a short distance from the town center, a long path flanked by maple trees came into view.
Pristine snow clung to the dense, bare branches, as the thaw had yet to reach them.
Anasta gazed down the avenue, imagining the foliage lush and green in summer, or ablaze with color come autumn.
It would certainly be magnificent.
At the end of the lane stood the grand iron gates of House Soltaire.
The estate, centered around a lavish ornamental garden, consisted of three annexes and an imposing main building.
Subtle gray wallpaper, timeless and subdued, lined the walls beneath a deep violet roof.
Countless windows stretched along the facade, and the servants moving about were far too numerous to tally on one’s fingers.
It truly was worthy of the Soltaire name.
Anasta pondered this as the carriage rolled smoothly past the main gates, still continuing its approach.
“This is House Soltaire, boasting more than a century of history.”
“The gardens are lovely.”
“Leaving the estate is forbidden, but you are free to stroll the grounds. Accompanied by a maid, of course.”
At last, she heard a piece of good news.
“We have arrived.”
The carriage came to a halt, and the Head Maid announced their arrival in a flat tone.
Careful not to crease her dress, Anasta rose from her seat and stepped out with practiced grace.
There, five maids, the butler, and two knights were waiting to receive her.
Anasta followed them until they reached a pair of grand doors on the second floor.
“Madam, Lady Anasta has arrived.”
“Send her in.”
Anasta recognized the voice from several days before.
When the doors parted, a youthful-looking noblewoman dressed in cool tones sat sipping tea.
“Welcome.”
She offered her greeting without sparing so much as a glance.
“Greetings, Madam.”
“Yes. Was your journey tiring?”
“It was quite pleasant, thanks to your consideration.”
“Sit.”
Anasta took a seat across from the Duchess, holding her breath.
Proper etiquette typically dictated offering a guest tea, but the Duchess merely continued drinking her own.
Unsure of the proper protocol for such a slight, Anasta remained silent.
“You listened carefully to what the Head Maid had to say, I trust? From the moment you step foot here, you cannot leave without permission.”
“Understood.”
“Have you seen Ryan’s portrait?”
“Yes. He was remarkably handsome.”
“You should consider yourself exceedingly fortunate to marry a young master of such vast wealth and striking looks. You are truly blessed.”
“I am well aware.”
“Though he is not my son, Ryan is… quite handsome. A painting hardly does his looks justice. But let us leave it at that.”
Evidently disinclined to linger on praise for Ryan’s appearance, she abruptly shifted the subject.
“I hope matters proceed smoothly. I would have you married to Ryan within six months.”
Anasta understood all too well that these words carried no affection or regard.
The Duchess simply wanted the affair settled without delay.
“I hope for the same, Madam.”
“Though it may seem rather premature, do you intend to bear his child?”
Anasta’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected question.
“I cannot say just yet.”
Her reply was measured.
“I cannot speak for Ryan’s wishes, but it would be best to ensure contraception. What purpose is there in having a child with a man whose days are numbered? What if the illness is passed down to that child?”
· · ·
“You are aware this malady runs in the blood, are you not? I have no desire to see such suffering continue into the next generation. Nor would you, surely. Anastia.”
‘My name is Anasta…’
Yet she offered no correction, merely nodding.
She, too, had no wish to pass such an illness on to a child.
“Should you, for whatever reason, share a night with Ryan, let me know. I shall prepare a contraceptive.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“Very well. That is all I have to say. You may take your leave.”
It was an exceedingly brief exchange. Rising without a hint of resentment, Anasta offered a polite curtsy.
“This way, if you please.”
The moment she stepped outside, the Head Maid who had ridden with her in the carriage took the lead.
Their destination was the annex situated behind the main mansion.
Of the three annexes, this one stood farthest back; though smaller than the main estate, it was vastly larger than the count’s manor where Anasta had lived.
Four stories high, it had its own private garden furnished with chairs and a tea table.
“This is where you will be staying. Everything you require, including a dining room, is provided here.”
Which meant she had no reason to visit the main house.
“Your chamber is directly adjacent to Lord Ryan’s. I shall show you up.”
Crash!
Just as Anasta followed the Head Maid into the building,
the sound of a shattering third-floor window rang out, and shards of glass came raining down below.
“Aaargh! My lord!”
Anasta jerked her head up toward the window where the noise had erupted.
There, the striking man she had seen in the portrait glared down at her with fierce, piercing eyes.
He was perched precarious on the windowsill.
‘So this is him…’
Anasta locked Ryan’s image firmly in her gaze.
Though his frame appeared frail and wasted, the light burning in his eyes was that of a ferocious beast.
END
