Chapter 14:
The Blackwood estate was silent in a way that felt deliberate.
Elara noticed it the moment she stepped inside — not the peaceful kind of silence, but one that pressed against her ears, heavy and watchful. The marble floors reflected her image as she walked, every step echoing softly, reminding her that she was a guest in a world that was not built for her.
The doors closed behind them with a final, hollow sound.
Adrian removed his jacket and handed it to a waiting staff member without a word. His movements were precise, practiced. He belonged here in a way Elara knew she never could.
"Your new room is prepared," he said calmly. "If you need anything, inform the staff."
Just like that. No warmth. No reassurance.
"Mr. Blackwood asked us to prepare a different room."
Elara hesitated. "My new room?"
Adrian turned slightly, studying her expression as if weighing something unspoken.
"For now," he replied, "A bigger room will make you feel better "
She nodded anyway. "Of course."
A maid led her upstairs, her steps quiet and respectful. Elara followed, feeling smaller with every step. The hallway stretched endlessly, doors lining both sides like closed mouths, holding secrets she wasn't meant to hear.
When the maid finally opened the door, Elara stopped short.
The room was beautiful — too beautiful. Soft lighting, tall windows draped in sheer curtains, a bed that looked untouched and unfamiliar. It felt staged, like a hotel room prepared for someone important.
Someone else.
"Please let us know if you require anything, Mrs. Blackwood," the maid said gently before leaving.
The door closed.
Elara stood there for a long moment, unsure whether to sit or move or breathe.
She finally crossed the room and rested her hand against the window. Outside, the estate grounds stretched wide and manicured, flawless and cold. Everything here was controlled. Even the silence.
She exhaled slowly.
This was real now.
Later that evening, she wandered downstairs, drawn by the faint sound of voices. She paused near the sitting room, unseen, her heart slowing as she listened.
"…marrying her was a strategic decision," a woman's voice said — sharp, composed.
Elara's breath caught.
"You could have chosen someone more suitable," the voice continued. "Someone from our circle."
Adrian's reply was calm. "Suitability is relative."
"Do not grow careless," the woman warned. "Emotions complicate things."
"I am not emotional," Adrian said.
A brief pause.
"That," the woman replied, "is exactly what concerns me."
Elara stepped back before they could see her. Her chest felt tight, her pulse loud in her ears.
So that was it.
She wasn't a wife. She was a decision. A calculated move.
When she returned to her room, the weight of the realization settled deeply. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap, staring at nothing.
She had walked into this knowing it wasn't love.
But knowing, she realized, didn't make it easier.
Later that night, a soft knock sounded at her door.
Elara stiffened. "Yes?"
The door opened slowly. Adrian stood there, his expression unreadable.
"I heard you earlier," she said quietly before he could speak.
He didn't deny it.
"You weren't meant to," he replied.
"I know," she said. "But I did."
Silence stretched between them.
"You should understand," Adrian said finally, "this world is unforgiving. Everything has a purpose."
"And what am I?" she asked softly.
His jaw tightened. "You are protected."
"That's not an answer."
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes — hesitation, perhaps.
"You are here," he said carefully, "because I chose you."
Elara looked at him, searching his face for something honest.
"I didn't ask to be chosen," she said. "I asked to survive."
Adrian stepped back, the distance between them returning.
"Get some rest," he said quietly. "Tomorrow will be… demanding."
The door closed again.
Elara lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. The estate felt larger in the dark, its walls closing in around her.
This house had rules.
This marriage had boundaries.
And somewhere between them, Elara knew she would have to decide how much of herself she was willing to lose.