The light that filtered into the chambers was soft and warm. Not the pale silver sun in Highmere, but here it was golden.
A knock, then after I grunted a come in, the door opened.
"Good morning, my lady," came a young voice, clear and bright.
I stirred, barely lifting my head from the pillow. The bed was still unfamiliar, it's weight swallowing me whole. I sat up sheets entangled on my waist like vines.
A girl about my age stepped in, curtsying quickly. She had a kind face, her uniform neatly pressed and an apron that bore the crest of the Storms'.
"I'm Lara, your personal maid," she introduced herself helping me stand up.
"I'm here to help with anything you need."
Lara crossed to the window, drawing the curtains wide. "You're expected at breakfast with the storm family, Lady storm hates tardiness."
I tensed. The storm family. My in—laws, my stranger husband. I would have to face him, face all of them, after what happened last night.
Lara moved with quiet efficiency. Helping me freshening up and setting out a gown. Her hands were skilled and gentle.
She fastened the last button and stepped back to assess her work.
"You look lovely," she said.
The gown was lighter than the ones we wore back at Highmere. But the climate here was very warm compared to the mountains.
"I love the pink," I said looking at the mirror.
"We should head out," Lara said, walking to open the door.
I was not ready to face any of them. I could see their faces scowling.
But with a nod I followed her out the door and to the dining hall.
The dining hall was long, narrow and heavy with quiet grandeur. Dark beams stretched across the ceiling like skeletal arms, and high arched windows flooded the room with too much light. I felt exposed the moment I entered.
They were already seated.
At the head of the table was Lord Elric Storm— very much not ill— lifted his cup and sipped from it with the ease of a very healthy man.
I blinked, then quickly lowered my gaze.
"Ah, there she is, my daughter in- law," Lord Elric said too brightly, his voice filled with mirth that felt practiced.
I curtsied stiffly, my eyes never meeting his.
"I hope your health is recovering my Lord," I said coolly, moving to the seat Lara pulled out for me.
A chuckle rumbled from his chest, "Never felt better in my life."
My seat was across from him—my husband. He didn't look at me not even once. He cut into his meat like it had insulted him personally. His jaw worked with quiet fury.
To his right sat his mother, Lady Valerie Storm. Her expression was cold but open. She gave me a nod before signalling for a servant to serve me breakfast.
"I didn't know what you like, so I had them prepare what you enjoyed eating when you were little," she said sipping her juice.
"It was my idea," a lady seated next to her chirped in. A kind, warm and loving soul one could not forget. Darrell's youngest sister, Lady Coral Storm.
"You look well," she added. "Highmere treated you better like I prayed for. You hated mountains."
I smiled faintly, she was still kind as I remembered, "It grew on me and the people there were warm enough to chase that cold."
She laughed gently, "Can't wait to tell you all that you missed."
A sharp clatter interrupted us.
Lady Cerelith, the elder sister, had dropped her knife. Or perhaps let it fall. Her blue eyes fixed on me— sharp, unreadable.
The last time I'd seen her, she was eleven and bloodied, pulled from the woods screaming. And I had stood next to my brother who was holding a bloody knife. The Three of us knew what had happened but one lied.
She said nothing. She just picked up her fork and continued eating.
The silence was a blade.
Lord Elric filled it, "So, how is married life treating you both? Peaceful I hope."
Still, he didn't speak. Not a word. He took a long sip of water, his eyes fixed on the buns Infront of him.
I swallowed, " It's all new but.... It's settling, my Lord. But I'm hopeful."
Lord Elric smiled behind his cup, but his eyes missed nothing. "Hopeful. That's a fine use of the word. The foundation of any union."
Coral glanced between us her smile dimming.
Cerelith finally spoke, her voice cold.
"Forgive my brother. He's never been fond of.....strangers at the table."
I felt the sting in that word. I was but a stranger to them.
"Then I'll try not to be one for long." I said, the smile on my lips brittle, balancing the tremble in my chest.
"Do forgive her," her mother said turning to me with a smile. "The last time I saw you were five. I'm proud of the fine lady you've become. How are your people back in Highmere?"
"All well and healthy," I answered poking the steak.
"I heard about your sister," she said.
I smiled while forcing my tears back. "She will forever remain in our hearts."
Lord Elric set down his cup and leaned back, "well. What better time than now for a tour of the estate? Darrell, why don't you show your wife around?"
A knife paused mid–cut in his hand. He didn't look up. A minute passed, and then:
"If I must," he muttered, his voice low and flat.
He stood, pushing back his chair. I blinked glancing around the table. No one spoke. Lady Storm sipped her tea. Cerelith was openly smirking.
Darell didn't wait for me. He turned and walked out of the hall. I scrambled to my feet nearly knocking a cup over.
His strides were long and clipped. I had to lift up my skirts to keep pace.