Ophelia stared at the open door. She was not well-travelled, but she knew for certain they were not anywhere near the Hastings land.
Cecilia grew impatient with Ophelia's stubbornness. "Guard! If she doesn't move by the count of three, drag her out. She's already damaged, so her appearance won't matter."
Ophelia stood up before the guard could reach her and stepped out of the carriage to find a chain awaiting her.
"The chains are so you don't have any thoughts about running away," said Cecilia.
Cecilia eagerly awaited the sight of Ophelia in chains. Though they stood on the Valthorns' land, Ophelia carried the Hastings name so that no one could intervene.
Ophelia quietly awaited the chains to be placed on her hands or feet. She knew resisting would only bring more pain, so for now, she would comply.
To Ophelia's horror, a shackle was brought forward and placed around her neck and tightly locked. A guard yanked on the chain to display that Ophelia would not get away.
Cecilia's laughter was heard inside the carriage. It was a mixture of pleasure and amusement.
"We must make haste," Cecilia said, leaning back onto her seat.
Now that the eyesore was gone, Cecilia could somewhat enjoy the long ride back to the castle.
Cecilia fanned herself, still annoyed by the circumstances. "They looked down upon us to request that we travel to their land. Never again."
In Cecilia's eyes, the Valthorns should have travelled to the Hastings castle. It was only due to Joel claiming to be ill that it did not happen.
"Move forward!"
Weight settled in Ophelia's chest when a guard ordered the entourage to push forward.
Ophelia didn't know where the other end of the chain was attached, but she started to move before she could be dragged forward. She had little idea of how far she needed to go, but Ophelia was certain a long, torturous journey awaited her.
Ophelia pushed herself to keep up with the carriage where Cecilia so comfortably sat. She was exhausted and starving. None of the wedding feast had touched her hands, nor was she fed in the morning, in fear that she would not fit her dress, as though she was not already small.
Many more hours into the journey, Ophelia's vision started to become blurry.
Not only was she in desperate need of water and food, but the sun scorched her skin with every step she took. The shoes she wore were old, and since they had once belonged to her stepsisters, they were tight, making each step even more unbearable.
Still, Ophelia carried on. Ever hopeful that there would come a time when she could rest.
'Don't stop,' Ophelia repeated in her head.
Without looking inside the carriage, Ophelia guessed that Cecilia was waiting for her to fall behind, only to see her be dragged by the guards.
It was night when the entourage finally stopped, but the chain was still around Ophelia's neck.
Whilst a tent was put up for Cecilia and many of the guards, Ophelia found her place by a tree, watching as everyone around her enjoyed a warm supper which was not offered to her.
Ophelia's lips were dry.
If not for food, she would be delighted with a drop of water, but knew not to expect it.
Ophelia turned her attention to her feet. Her right hand trembled as she reached forward to remove her shoe. It was dark, but Ophelia was able to make out that her feet were bleeding.
Ophelia slipped off her shoes to get some relief. She closed her eyes, deciding to get rest since there was no telling how soon she would be troubled by Lady Cecilia or when her next rest would come.
Ophelia slept through the night without supper and in the morning was placed to walk beside the carriage again.
Cecilia found the sight of Ophelia walking like a slave to be rather amusing. If possible, she would take Ophelia to the forbidden markets and sell her there, but the king would have her head for ruining the truce.
"It looks like she is about to faint. I will not have her keep us back. Give her some of the water meant for the horses," Cecilia said, followed by laughter.
Ophelia kept her head down.
It was insulting, she knew, but any bit of water was better than nothing.
Ophelia accepted the water from a guard. It was refreshing, no matter where it came from and for a moment, gave her more strength to keep walking.
It was after four days of walking and Cecilia throwing scraps when she felt like being generous, that Ophelia finally arrived at the Hastings castle.
Ophelia wanted nothing more than to rest and be left alone.
As a guard came forward to open the carriage door for Cecilia, the chain shackle was removed from Ophelia's neck. A weight finally lifted off her shoulders, but Ophelia still felt like she could faint at any moment.
Ophelia was tired and starving, but there was no one here to take mercy on her. With Dante gone to see the king, Ophelia was at Cecilia's mercy.
Cecilia eyed Ophelia from head to toe. She was surprised that Ophelia had made the long journey without begging for food, water, or to be able to rest.
Ophelia was a fighter.
The corners of Cecilia's lips rose with malice behind them. She anticipated a young woman who would cry at every corner, but it would be better to break someone who wanted to appear strong.
Cecilia led the way inside.
Ophelia was nudged forward by the guards' weapons.
Ophelia lifted her head slightly to take in the sight of what would be her new home. The castle was grand. Far grander than what the Valthorns lived in.
'Is this why he didn't want to come here?' Ophelia wondered, thinking of Joel's hesitation to come to the Hastings' castle.
"Lady Cecilia, you've returned in good health."
Ophelia lowered her gaze to a young woman standing by the front door, dressed in fine attire. There was no doubt this was a lady from a wealthy family.
Perhaps she was another Hastings.
Cecilia looked over her shoulder at Ophelia for a moment before spreading her arms as she approached Victoria to embrace her in a hug.
"I am happy to be home. I hope you've kept the castle in good order while we have been away," said Cecilia.
"I have."
"We've brought someone back with us, but pay no attention to her. You will remain as the lady of the castle just as my son wanted," Cecilia said, making Victoria's position known.
Ophelia now realised who stood before her. 'She's his mistress,' she thought.