Celestia's POV
The journey to the Borderlands took three days.
Three days in a cramped carriage with the proxy who never spoke and barely let me out except for necessary stops. Three days watching civilization disappear bit by bit through the tiny window—first the capital's sprawling estates, then farming villages, then scattered homesteads, then nothing but wilderness and grey rock.
Three days to realize no one was coming to rescue me.
By the third sunset, we'd entered the Borderlands proper. The landscape turned harsh and unforgiving—dead trees, rocky cliffs, constant cold wind that whistled through cracks in the carriage.
This was where the Empire sent people it wanted to forget.
Now I was one of them.
We're here, the proxy announced as the carriage finally stopped.
I looked out the window and felt my last shred of hope die.
Greystone Manor wasn't a manor at all. It was a crumbling stone fortress perched on a cliff edge, overlooking nothing but more grey rocks and dead forest. The walls were old and weathered. Half the windows were broken. The whole place looked like it was slowly being reclaimed by the wilderness around it.
This was my new home.
This was my new prison.
The carriage door opened. Cold wind rushed in, carrying the smell of decay and salt from the distant sea.
Out, the proxy ordered.
I climbed down on shaking legs. My wedding robes were filthy now, torn at the hem from the journey. My mother's tiara had been taken away somewhere during the second day. Even my shoes were falling apart.
I looked like a beggar, not a bride.
This way. The proxy grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the manor's entrance.
The massive front doors groaned open before we reached them.
And there he stood.
Lord Harren.
He was exactly as terrible as I'd feared. Tall but skeletal, like death wearing skin. His face was grey and gaunt, with sunken eyes and lips that had no color. He wore expensive clothes that hung off his wasted frame.
When he smiled, his teeth were yellow.
My bride, he said, his voice like gravel scraping stone. Welcome home.
I wanted to run. Wanted to scream. Wanted to do anything except walk toward this monster.
But the proxy's grip on my arm was iron.
She gave you trouble? Lord Harren asked.
Some. Nothing I couldn't handle. The proxy shoved me forward. Your wife, as contracted.
Lord Harren walked around me in a slow circle, examining me like livestock. Even more beautiful than the reports suggested. Well done, Your Grace. He addressed someone behind him.
My father stepped out from the shadows inside the manor.
I stopped breathing.
Father? The word came out strangled. You're here?
Of course I'm here. He looked at me with those cold, empty eyes. I had to ensure the marriage was properly consummated and legal. Can't have you claiming later it was forced.
It WAS forced!
The contract says otherwise. He pulled out the marriage document, now sealed officially. You are legally Lady Harren. The marriage will be consummated tonight, and I will witness the sheets tomorrow morning to confirm it. Then House Ashford's obligation is complete.
I was going to be sick.
You're going to make sure he... I couldn't even finish the sentence. You're my FATHER!
I'm the Duke of House Ashford, he corrected. And I'm ensuring this alliance is binding. After tonight, you'll never see me again. Consider it mercy.
Mercy? I laughed, high and broken. You don't know what that word means.
I know what survival means, he said coldly. Learn it quickly, Celestia. You'll need it here.
Lord Harren grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. His fingers were cold and dry as bone.
You'll learn to please me, he said conversationally. My first two wives took months to break properly. The third never did learn, which is why she died. But you—you're intelligent. You'll adapt quickly.
I'll die first, I spat.
Perhaps. He released my chin. But you'll suffer beautifully first.
A handful of servants appeared, all elderly, all worn down, all refusing to meet my eyes. They'd seen this before. New wives arriving. Old wives disappearing.
Show Lady Harren to our chambers, Lord Harren ordered. Give her an hour to bathe and prepare. Then bring her to me.
One hour. I had one hour before my life became a waking nightmare.
Two old women, one with a scarred face, another missing an eye, came and took my arms gently.
Come, my lady, the scarred one whispered. Best not to make him wait.
They led me through dark corridors that smelled of mold and old death. Up a winding staircase. To a large bedroom that might have been beautiful once but was now just faded and cold.
A bath was already prepared, steaming in the center of the room.
Get in, my lady, the one-eyed woman said softly. Clean yourself. It'll be easier if you're clean.
Easier? I looked at them. How is any of this easier?
The scarred woman's eyes filled with tears. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But fighting only makes it worse.
I don't care.
You will. She touched my shoulder gently. After the first time, you'll understand. Fighting makes him enjoy it more.
Bile rose in my throat. How long have you been here?
Fifteen years, she whispered. I was his first wife's maid. Watched her die in childbirth. Then the second. Then the third.
The third died falling down stairs, I said. That's what Lord Harren told me.
The women exchanged glances.
Is that what he's saying now? The one-eyed woman shook her head. She didn't fall, my lady. She jumped. From the east tower window. Three years ago.
My blood turned to ice. She killed herself?
After two years of... marriage. The scarred woman helped me out of my ruined wedding dress. She couldn't take it anymore. Some nights I think she made the right choice.
Don't say that. The one-eyed woman's voice was sharp. Don't put ideas in the girl's head.
Why not? Look at her. You think she'll survive this any better than the others?
She has to try.
I stood there naked while they argued about my chances of survival, and something cold and hard settled in my chest where my heart used to be.
I wasn't going to jump from a tower.
I wasn't going to break.
I was going to survive this. Somehow. And then I was going to make everyone who'd sent me here pay.
But first, I had to survive tonight.
How do I do it? I asked quietly. How do I survive him?
The women looked at each other again.
Go somewhere else in your mind, the scarred one said finally. When he's... when he's using you... think about something beautiful. Something he can't touch.
And pray he dies soon, the one-eyed woman added. The physicians say six months. Maybe less.
Six months.
I could survive six months.
I had to.
They bathed me gently, dressed me in a thin white nightgown that left nothing to the imagination, and braided my hair.
You're very beautiful, my lady, the scarred woman whispered. Try to remember that, underneath everything. You're still beautiful.
But I didn't feel beautiful.
I felt like a sacrifice being prepared for slaughter.
Too soon, a knock came at the door.
Time, a male voice called. Lord Harren is waiting.
The women hugged me quickly, brief, desperate embraces.
Survive, the scarred one whispered in my ear. Just survive.
They led me down the corridor to Lord Harren's chambers. The door loomed ahead like a mouth waiting to swallow me.
The servants opened it and pushed me gently inside.
Then closed it behind me.
Lord Harren sat in a chair by the fireplace, wearing a silk robe. His grey skin looked even more corpse-like in the flickering light.
Come here, wife, he said.
I didn't move.
I said, come here. His voice hardened. Must I teach you obedience on our first night together?
Every instinct screamed at me to run. But there was nowhere to go. The door was locked. The windows were too high. And even if I escaped this room, I was fifty miles from anywhere, surrounded by wilderness and wolves.
I was trapped.
Slowly, I walked toward him.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me onto his lap. His breath smelled like death.
You're trembling, he observed. Good. Fear makes you more beautiful.
I closed my eyes and thought about Aldric. About my father. About Vivienne and the Emperor and Duchess Elara and everyone who'd put me here.
I pictured their faces.
And I made a vow that I would survive this night. And every night after.
Because someday—somehow, I would make them all pay.
Lord Harren's cold hand touched my face.
Let's begin your education, Lady Harren.
The fire crackled.
Outside, wolves howled in the darkness.
And the girl who'd woken up four days ago expecting to become Empress died completely.
In her place was born someone new.
Someone harder.
Someone who would survive anything.
Someone who would have her revenge.
No matter how long it took.