"Good job, Lilian."
Gloria murmured after pulling Lilian aside into a quiet corner. Her husband, Marec, remained occupied with Caelan's relatives, laughing stiffly as though nothing was amiss.
"The wedding was a success," she continued in a low voice, her gaze now fixed on Lilian's face. "But it will not be considered complete until you fulfil your final duty once you arrive at your husband's home. You must ensure that the marriage is properly consummated. That is the only way it will be deemed valid. If you fail in that aspect, you will be sent back here in disgrace – and we cannot have that. Are you listening to me?"
Her fingers tightened around Lilian's arm, giving it a slight shake when the girl's unfocused gaze drifted.
"You must do what is required of you," Gloria pressed on. "You are his wife now. Do not anger him, and do not shame this family the same way your father did. Do you understand?"
Lilian managed a nod.
"Aunt… Can I… can I at least have someone to eat before leaving? I've done everything you asked of me. Please…"
Her knees felt unsteady. Before Gloria could respond at all, a woman from Caelan's side of the family approached them, her presence cutting through the tense atmosphere.
Her haughty gaze drifted between Lilian and her Aunt, as though weighing something distasteful.
"What are you still doing here?" she asked coolly, a faint frown creasing her brow. "We are to depart soon. Have her say her goodbyes quickly. We do not have all night - there is a long journey ahead."
Gloria immediately inclined her head politely. "She'll be with you shortly, Lady Constance. I was only offering her some final advice. She is like a daughter to me after all."
"Does it look like I care?" Lady Constance arched a perfectly shaped brow, her voice laced with open disdain as her gaze shifted to Lilian. "Even the maids in the Morvane household are far more appealing than the woman you have given us. If anything, you should be grateful the duke chose to proceed with this wedding."
The words echoed faintly in Lilian's ears, but they barely registered.
Her only coherent thought was the aching emptiness twisting inside her stomach. She just wanted something – anything to eat. They had been starving her for two whole days to weaken her. Now that she had done what they wanted from her, she was still not being attended to as promised.
Instead, she remained rooted in place, trapped between them, unable to retreat from their pointed exchange.
Could they not finish this later?
"Have her prepared," Lady Constance added, finally turning away. "We leave in ten minutes."
And with that, she swept off without another glance.
"Who does she think she is?" Gloria hissed the moment the noble woman disappeared from view, her face flushing with indignation.
One again, Lilian's own distress had been completely dismissed, forgotten as though it did not exist at all.
"Take her upstairs," Gloria snapped at the maids she had summoned. "Change her outfit immediately. She must not embarrass us further when she steps into the carriage. But leave her mask on."
The servants obeyed at once, gently but firmly steering Lilian toward the stairs– and not a single soul thought to offer her food. She was merely surviving on the water she drank earlier.
The pain in her stomach further intensified.
The moment she was changed into something more fitting in her dressing room, a gentle knock drew her attention. The door opened to reveal her cousin, Anastasia, standing stiffly with a small tray in her hands. A few scraps of food and a lone glass of water were balanced upon it.
She set it down on the table with a soft clatter. "You can have this before you leave," she said flatly. "Mother said to eat quickly too. Your new family will be leaving in four minutes."
And with that, she turned and left.
The silence in the room felt heavier after her departure. Lilian looked down at the pitiful offering on the tray. It was hardly a proper meal, but it was something.
Knowing not to test her Aunt's word, she ate quickly, with each bite doing little to ease the hollow ache inside her. Still, it was enough to prepare her body for what came next. Reaching into the drawer of her nightstand, she retrieved a small medicine pouch containing her pills. She slipped two into her mouth and washed them down with the remaining water.
Soon after, she made her way downstairs.
Outside, her 'new family' had already gathered, engaged in conversations with her uncle as if this moment were nothing more than a casual exchange. Why was it so easy for Marec to be in the same space as those that raided his brother and destroyed his home?
She could not understand even from his point of view.
The sight brewed something she could not put a name to. Nathan had somehow caught her glaring in their direction, and she averted her gaze. She was more afraid of Nathan than she was of her uncle.
Once everyone was ready, Lilian did not stop to say her goodbyes. She simply stepped forward after Lady Constance and climbed silently into the carriage. As it lurched into motion, Gloria's earlier words echoed relentlessly in her head, reminders of duties she had no wish to consider, much less perform.
Her husband could not even bring himself to look at her. How then, she wondered faintly, was she expected to fulfill a role that already felt distant and impossible? It would be much better if her husband does not expect anything from her at all.
The journey to the Northern Marches began, and for the first time, in what felt like an eternity of confinement, fresh air brushed against her skin through the slightly opened window.
Lilian watched as the estate drifted farther and farther away, the familiar walls shrinking into the distance.
A dull certainty settled in her chest.
Her life was only going to worsen from here.
Lilian's finger rose instinctively to her cheek, brushing over the mask that still concealed half her face, and hiding the unsightly scar. Strangely, she found she did not want to remove it.
"Sit properly. You are not in a village cart."
Lady Constance's voice sliced through the heavy silence, and Lilian realized she had almost forgotten she wasn't alone.
Not almost, she actually forgot.
The woman sat facing her in the carriage seat, and Lilian knew better than to lift her gaze.
"Tell me, how did someone so frail survive this long to be sold off as a bride?" Her tone was cool, faintly disappointed, as though inspecting a faulty good. "Women who look like you rarely carry heirs. Perhaps we'll be surprised."
She exhaled softly, as though she couldn't bear sitting with a peasant. "To bring a Vale into the Morvane household…" she continued, her lips thinning. "And you carry your father's eyes. I'm certain you already understand what that means, don't you? We do not welcome traitors into our home. If you believe we intend to treat you as a duchess because you are married to the duke, you are gravely mistaken."
But Lilian did not respond.
She had not expected kindness – or anything at all. The words barely touched her. She felt no shock, no sting. Only a familiar numbness settled deeper in her bones. This was not a new life. It was just a relocation of her cage… from one punishment to another.
But… perhaps this was her chance. The only chance she might possibly get to uncover how her father has been roped to such a cruel deed. Being isolated in her uncle's estate shattered any hope of ever seeking justice for her father, but now that she was finally beyond the walls, she would not squander this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
"Good heavens, don't tell me you've gone mute now," Lady Constance's voice brought her back to the present.
Lilian immediately shook her head.
"No, no, I can speak just fine."
"Then why do you wear a mask?" she demanded, eyeing the dark, intricate mask that concealed one side of her face. Her expression twisted faintly. "Take it off. The sight of it is making me uncomfortable."
Lilian hesitated, her fingers curling slightly at her side.