The next morning, sunlight spilled across the velvet curtains of the Lu estate, casting long golden streaks across the polished floor. Emily awoke to silence, the kind of silence that pressed against her ears, reminding her she was no longer in her father's modest home, but in a mansion that belonged to a man who had yet to acknowledge her as his wife.
The bed beside her was empty. Leonard had taken the sofa the night before, and at some point, he must have left without a sound. She sat up slowly, running a hand through her hair. The previous night replayed in her mind—the coldness in his eyes, the finality of his words: This marriage is an arrangement. Don't expect anything more.
Her heart clenched. And yet, despite everything, part of her still wished he might have stayed long enough to share a simple breakfast.
When she opened the door, a maid stood waiting in the hallway. The young woman bowed respectfully, but her eyes flicked briefly over Emily with something unreadable—curiosity, perhaps pity.
"Madam Lu," the maid said softly, "the master asked that breakfast be served in the east dining room. He has already gone to the office."
Emily hesitated at the title. Madam Lu. It sounded like an identity she had borrowed, a role she had yet to grow into. "Thank you," she murmured, forcing a polite smile.
The maid led her down the grand staircase, the click of Emily's heels echoing against the marble. The mansion was immense, decorated with oil paintings and crystal vases, each piece an unspoken reminder of the Lu family's wealth and influence. Yet for all its beauty, the house felt cold, almost hostile, as if warning her she did not belong.
The dining room table stretched endlessly, set with more dishes than a single person could eat. She sat at one end, feeling absurdly small.
As she picked at her food, her mind drifted back to her father's voice during the engagement negotiations: Emily, this is for your future. The Lu family can give you everything we cannot.
Everything, except warmth.
After breakfast, she wandered through the mansion's halls, her footsteps tentative, like those of a guest who feared overstaying her welcome. Everywhere she turned, servants paused to bow politely, but their gazes carried unspoken judgment.
She caught fragments of whispered conversations when they thought she was out of earshot:"She's pretty, but do you think she'll last here?""The young master has never shown interest in women. Why would he change now?""This marriage is for business. Everyone knows that."
Their words pierced her, but Emily kept her head high. She had grown up in a household where appearances mattered, where women were taught to smile even when their hearts bled. She would not falter now—not in front of strangers.
In the afternoon, a visitor arrived. Leonard's mother, Madam Lu, swept into the living room with the kind of grace only decades of power could shape. Dressed in an elegant silk cheongsam, her presence filled the room like a storm.
"Emily," she said, her tone polite but clipped, "I trust you are settling in."
Emily rose quickly, bowing her head. "Yes, Mother Lu. Thank you for asking."
The older woman's sharp eyes studied her carefully, as if weighing her worth. "Good. A wife of the Lu family must know her place. Leonard is a busy man. He has no time for… childish fantasies."
The implication was clear: Emily's role was to remain silent, ornamental, and obedient.
"Yes, Mother Lu," Emily said softly, though inside her chest burned.
Madam Lu's gaze lingered another moment before she nodded and dismissed herself, leaving behind the faint scent of jasmine and a trail of suffocating expectations.
By evening, Emily sat in the garden, staring at the koi pond as the last light of day reflected on the water. She felt adrift, caught between two worlds: the familiar simplicity of her old life and the cold grandeur of her new one.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Leonard had returned, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the path. He was still dressed in his work attire, his tie loosened, his expression weary yet unreadable.
For a moment, Emily considered ignoring him, but pride and instinct urged her to rise. "You're back," she said softly.
He nodded, not meeting her eyes, and walked past her toward the house. But just as he reached the door, he paused. "The servants gossip. Don't let their words bother you," he said without turning around.
Emily's breath caught. It was a small gesture, a flicker of acknowledgment, but it warmed her more than she expected.
"Thank you," she whispered, though he had already disappeared inside.
That night, Emily lay awake in the vast bed, staring at the ceiling. The house still felt strange, hostile even, but Leonard's brief words replayed in her mind. Cold as he was, perhaps there was a crack in his armor—a place where something human still lived.
She curled beneath the blankets, her resolve hardening. If this is to be my home, then I will make it mine. If Leonard refuses to see me, I will make him unable to ignore me.
For the first time since the wedding, Emily allowed herself a small smile. The road ahead would be difficult, but she was no longer simply a pawn in someone else's game. She would fight for her place in this strange home.