Greystone Manor
Isolde's POV
The sun beat down on my bare arms as I knelt in the fields, the scent of dirt and wild grass thick in the air. This patch of earth was all we had left, our name barely worth a whisper among the higher nobles.
"Mistress Isolde," Maren's voice broke through the quiet, trembling like a leaf in a storm. "Your parents want you inside. Now."
My heart clenched. That tone meant no good. I rose slowly, dusting the dirt from my skirts.
The manor was small and worn, shadows pooling in the corners of the dim living room where Father and Mother waited. Their faces were tight, pale, like they had swallowed something bitter.
Father's voice was cold, hard as stone. "Isolde, the Duke of Blackthorn will take you as his wife."
I blinked, disbelief biting sharp. "The duke? He's crippled and twice my age. Why me?"
Mother's eyes flashed with desperate hope. "He's the key to our survival. His name will pull us from the mud. We can't afford to refuse."
I swallowed hard, anger rising like fire. "But you have another daughter. Why not let her marry him instead?"
Father's face darkened. "You're the eldest. This is your burden."
I shook my head, voice trembling but fierce. "I'm not a piece to be traded for scraps. I won't be your sacrifice."
Father's eyes narrowed. Then his hand shot out, a sharp slap across my cheek.
*twack*
The sting burned deeper than I expected, but it silenced me.
Mother looked away, silent.
Father's voice dropped, cold and final. "This is not a discussion. You will obey."
The walls of our crumbling home closed in around me, suffocating and relentless. I was their hope and their prisoner.
I stormed out of their presence, my footsteps heavy and fast as I fled to my room.
Before I could slam the door, a soft voice called behind me.
"Isolde…"
Mother's footsteps faltered, then followed me inside.
I didn't look up, biting my lip to keep the tears from spilling.
She sat beside me on the edge of the bed, voice breaking. "I know you hate this. I hate it too."
My breath caught. The silence between us was thick, heavy with things left unsaid.
"We're drowning," she whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes. "If we refuse, we lose everything. Our land, our name… our home."
I clenched my fists, fury and helplessness warred inside me. "So I'm the sacrifice? The one you send to die in a cold castle with a man I don't even know?"
Mother's hand trembled as it reached out to me.
I hesitated, then slowly leaned into her.
She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close.
In that fragile embrace, the weight of the world didn't disappear, but for a moment, I wasn't alone.
******
The next morning came too fast. I didn't sleep, just lay there, listening to the creaks of the old house settling, the soft chirp of morning birds, the hollow silence where my own future used to be.
By midday, a carriage arrived.
Black and silver. Polished but not ornate. No family crest on the door. Just a quiet, solemn coach that looked more like a hearse than a bridal procession.
Maren helped me into my dress. Ivory lace, yellowing at the edges. It had been my mother's once. She stitched it herself back then, before the debts, before the begging letters and desperate whispers behind closed doors.
Now it was mine.
"It's only a wedding," Maren said softly, smoothing the back. "Not a funeral."
But her hands trembled, and we both knew that was a lie.
********
We rode for hours through dense woodland and winding hills, my fists clenched in my lap, refusing to cry. I didn't ask questions. Didn't speak. Not to the driver. Not to the guard who followed on horseback.
By dusk, the forest thinned.
Then I saw it.
******
The carriage rolled to a slow stop, wheels crunching over the gravel drive that curved up to Ravenshade Manor. Stone towers rose against the grey sky, ivy clinging to the walls like old secrets. The air smelled of smoke and wet leaves. I tried not to shiver.
I clutched the edge of my seat, spine aching from the journey. My hands itched to tremble, but I wouldn't let them.
When the footman opened the door, she was already waiting.
Not the Duke.
A woman stood at the top of the manor steps, framed by the archway and ivy-covered stone. Tall. Severe. Dressed in mourning black, though no veil touched her brow. She held herself like a woman who had outlived love, and found no further use for it since.
Lady Marguerite Ravenshade.
I knew her face from the portrait sent with the engagement contract.
She looked exactly the same in person. Except colder.
Her eyes swept over me like a ledger being tallied.
Not cruel. Just unimpressed.
"So," she said, voice dry as old paper. "You've arrived."
I stepped down from the carriage, lifting my skirts carefully. "Lady Isolde Greystone," I offered, curtsying with practiced grace.
She did not return the gesture. Did not offer her name.
"You're late," she said.
I blinked. "I came as fast as the roads allowed."
"Excuses belong to people who intend to be heard," she replied crisply. "And you won't need to speak much in this house."
The silence that followed bit colder than the wind.
"You'll forgive the lack of welcome party," she added, already turning toward the door. "My nephew finds formalities tiresome. And I find them pointless."
I tried not to glance past her, but I did, just once.
The doorway loomed, dark and open. No sign of the Duke.
"There will be no ceremony," she continued briskly. "The marriage contract was finalized this morning."
I stiffened. "No vows?"
Her mouth twitched. Not a smile. Something drier. "Do you think standing before a priest changes anything?"
I swallowed hard. "Of course not."
She turned on her heel. "Come. The steward will take your things. You'll be housed in the east wing, near the solarium. That should keep you occupied."
"I…yes. That will do."
She didn't answer. Didn't glance back.
Just walked into the manor like I was meant to follow without question.
And I did.
Past the stone threshold. Into the dimly lit hall.
Where nothing waited to welcome me,
Not a husband,
Not a smile,
Not even warmth.
Just the echo of my footsteps behind hers.
Because I was no longer a daughter of Greystone.
I was the Duke's bride.
Whether I wanted to be or not.