Akhile closed her eyes. Somewhere, far away, a different version of her lay flat on the floor, forgotten before she was even found. The house probably reeked of rotting flesh and maggots.
Here, under a blood moon, she was expected to belong to a family she had never met. To a man she had never chosen. It was easy to put 2 and 2 together.
With her legs a bit wobbly but steady this time, she said, "Tell them," she paused, surprised by the calm in her voice, "that I will see them shortly."
As the footsteps retreated, Akhile walked back to the window and looked up at the blood moon.
If this life had been given to her as a mistake, she would still claim it. If she were dreaming, that would be disappointing.
And if love waited for her here, it would not be discreet. It would not be dutiful, and it would not be free.
The Redcliff brother Nathaniel arrived without formality. No announcement or a raised voice to draw attention to him. Akhile only noticed the shift in the room and the way the servants straightened their postures, and the way the simple air seemed to tighten. This is when she saw him.
Nathaniel Redcliff stood just inside the doorway, tall and immaculately dressed in dark clothing that absorbed the light and any optimism. It triggered in Akhile hostility from her former life. He continued to stay quiet, but it was deliberate. Like he was defrosting.
His eyes found hers shortly afterwards. They were sharper than she expected. As if he were already measuring the cost of her existence with his gaze. They had an intense orange reddish colour. Akhile was certain she had no idea a person could have that eye colour.
Akhile did not look away, she stared right back at him.
She had spent one lifetime shrinking herself under men who mistook submission for virtue. She would not begin this one on her knees.
Nathaniel's gaze remained a second longer than required. He did not receive fragility and a damsel in Akhile's eyes. They were green now, by the way. Something unreadable passed through his expression before he cocked his head.
"Princess Cora," he said. His voice was a deep virtue, the sound rippled across her hearing as she winced.
Her name sounded different in his mouth. She waited.
"You've changed," he continued calmly, as if he were reporting the weather forecast.
Akhile smiled. It was not the soft, reassuring smile the memories inside her suggested Cora often wore. She had a gummy smile.
"So I'm told."
That was perfectly said.
The corner of his mouth lifted but not enough to be a smile, only enough to feel like a facial expression.
Up close, she could see how controlled he was. Every movement precise and calculated. He smelled faintly of something clean and bitter, like crushed herbs or freshly picked rosemary. This was the kind of man who never lost control because he never gave it away.
"I trust the blood moon did not disturb you," Nathaniel said.
It was a strange thing to say. What was even more strange still was the way the servants froze, as if the words themselves carried weight.
Akhile felt something stir beneath her skin. A quiet pressure near her temple, a migraine-like sensation.
"I slept through it," she replied. This was a lie.
Nathaniel's eyes darkened, just slightly.
"Good," he said. "Then we may proceed without complications."
The statement lingered between them.
Akhile straightened. "You speak as though this meeting is inevitable."
He stepped closer. Not enough to touch. Enough to be felt, breath and all.
"Our betrothal was written long before you drew your first breath," Nathaniel said softly. "I don't mistake inevitability for desire, but I respect it, I respect the timelines and like to stick to them."
His gaze dropped, briefly, to her mouth and returned. He had taken a quick snapshot of her full lips and imagined kissing them after they wed.
"And I expect you will learn to do the same," he said.
Something tight and heavy curled in her chest. It was not attraction exactly, but disgust.
This man would not beg for love, but rather for her to keep to the promise and follow the script. Akhile held his gaze, pulse steady.
"In that case," she said, "we should both hope destiny has learned to negotiate."
For the first time, Nathaniel laughed, well if you could call it that. He was not being genuine, instead he was doing his own assessment of Princess Cora, studying her, before he could trust her loyalty
"I see why my brother is fond of you," he said.
The words landed like a spark in dry grass.
Brother? So there are two of them.
Akhile did not ask which one.
She filed through Cora's memories, and there he was, Norman Redcliff. They hadn't been introduced yet, which Akhile started dreading. Another one of them, the Redcliffs. How about she deserves a break and time to decide on the new lease of life.