"Do you have no regard for my virtue, Father?" Rebecca's voice was painfully low, trembling between restraint and despair. Her nails dug into the fabric of her dress until she felt the threads tighten beneath her fingers.
It was one of those rare afternoons when the sun dared to break through the clouds. The rain had ceased for once, and the manor's gardens breathed again damp, fragrant, alive. Becca had found a fleeting peace among the rows of violets and lilies, watching butterflies drift lazily above the petals. But peace was never meant to last in her father's house, atleastt for her.
The Earl had summoned her, she knew whatever it may be concerned the alliance, she was of no use to him. She entered his study with a heavy heart, the faint scent of smoke and aged paper filling the air. And now, seated across from him a man of rigid posture and colder eyes she felt that peace collapsed completely.
He had called her not to advise or console her, but to announce her fate.
She was to leave for Duskborne.
By "Council's order," he claimed. But Rebecca knew better. Nothing the Earl did was without his own design.
"It makes no difference to the matter, Rebecca," he said calmly, leaning back in his chair. "You would eventually be married. The Council only hastens what is inevitable."
"I am a young, unmarried woman, Father," Rebecca replied, her voice trembling but sharp. "To live under the same roof as a man I am not yet wed to, even in betrothal would stain what remains of my reputation! Could have atleast fought me."
"It makes no difference," the Earl said again, unbothered. "Think of it as preparation. Duskborne is a fine place, a respectable land. You'll have no cause to complain."
"Preparation?" Her tone broke, anger spilling through the cracks. "Or banishment? Tell me, which is it? For what sin am I being punished ? And how can you call a home to night creatures fine? You've never even stepped foot in that cursed land!"
The Earl's eyes flickered briefly before he answered, voice steady and cold. "Anger is useless, Rebecca. You will have to exist among them one way or another. Learning now or later is no difference. Besides," he added, a cruel edge touching his lips, "you hold no meaningful presence here."
Her heart stung at his words. She rose from her seat abruptly, her voice rising despite herself. "So you're letting me go?"
"Yes."
The single word hung heavy in the air. No hesitation. No warmth. Just certainty.
Rebecca's hands shook lightly, her emotions a rollercoaster. "If it were Lisa, would you have done the same? Would you send your precious daughter away to a land of monsters? To live among those....." She caught her breath, her voice breaking. "No, of course not. She is your daughter born of love. I..." she swallowed hard, "I was born of shame."
The Earl's gaze hardened. "Mind your tongue."
"I shall not!" she cried. "You speak of duty and honour, but where was your honour when you condemned me for simply existing? I never asked to be your burden. I never asked for your noble blood to poison my life!"
"Enough," the Earl said sharply, standing from his chair. "Your insolence has grown unbearable. You will do as you are told, or I shall see to it that you regret your defiance."
Hebecca's eyes glistening with tear, but she refused to let tears fall before him. "I regret only that I ever believed you capable of mercy."
He glared at her a look that would have silenced anyone else. "Do not test me, Rebecca. You will leave for Duskborne at dawn. The carriage will be prepared. And I suggest you find grace in obedience, for rebellion has never suited you."
She forced a bitter smile. "No, Father. Rebellion does not suite me, I'm your ever obedient unwanted child."
The Earl's hand clenched around his cane. "Go to your chambers."
"I intend to," she said, voice steady now. "I should like to see the sun one last time before you send me to live under someone else's shadow."
Rebecca turned to leave, her gown whispering across the marble floor. As she reached the doorway, she stopped and glanced back once but it was not out of affection, but to draw the vivid memory into her head.
꧂
The morning of Becca's departure was unnaturally still.
The sky hung low, painted in dull shades of gray, and the air smelled faintly of wet earth from the night's passing drizzle. Servants moved quietly through the courtyard, loading the last of her trunks into the black carriage waiting at the steps.
It was the first time Becca had ever been sent away from the manor since she was born.
She stood near the iron gate, her gloved hands clasped tightly before her. Every sound the creak of the wheels, the rustle of fabric, even the soft clink of the horses' harness seemed too loud in the silence that filled her chest. She had always dreamed, of the day she would leave the Manor, to find her freedom and peace, this was definitely not her dream, even with all the sad memories the manor bore, it was still the only place she knew as "home".
Mina was there, standing beside her. Becca suddenly remembered when she had first met Mina, she was only five and Mina then barely looked fifteen. Mina had nursed her as far as she remembered, she had oftentimes claimed, it was her repaying her Rebecca's mother for protecting her, but Becca has known that was fowl.
"You shouldn't be going alone," Mina said, her voice low and tense. "At least let me come with you. The road to Duskborne is not like any other. It's far, it's wild and that land…" She hesitated, lowering her voice. "It has a darkness to it, my lady. People say even the trees there whisper."
Becca gave a faint smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll be fine, Mina."
"You won't," Mina snapped softly. "You don't know that place."
Becca's hands tightened around her gloves. "I know enough," she said, trying to sound brave. "Enough to understand what this marriage means."
Mina looked at her for a long moment, the hardness in her gaze softening. "You sound like your father when you say that. Cold. As if this is just duty and not your life being taken from you."
Becca turned her face away. "Perhaps that's the sole purpose of my existence for Father."
Mina's breath caught, but she said nothing. She only reached out and fixed a loose strand of Becca's hair, her fingers trembling slightly. "If you won't let me come," she said finally, "then promise me something that you'll write. Even if it's just one letter, so I know you're alive."
"I'll write," Becca said quietly. "When I arrive."
Mina gave a small nod, though her eyes glistened. "And if they treat you poorly, if that Lord ever raises a hand against you—"
"Mina," Becca interrupted, forcing a calm she didn't feel. "Please. Don't say more."
At the top of the stairs, the Earl appeared. His coat was dark, his expression coldly composed. He didn't look at his daughter as a father might, only as a man fulfilling an arrangement.
"Is everything ready?" he asked.
"Yes, my lord," a servant answered.
"Good," said the Earl. Then, to Becca: "You should be on your way. The Lord of Duskborne values punctuality."
Becca's stomach twisted, but she bowed her head. "Yes, Father."
Mina's voice broke the silence one last time. "Milady," she said, catching Becca's hand. "You don't have to..."
But Becca gently freed her hand and smiled faintly, sadly. "Goodbye, Mina. Thank you… for everything."
Mina swallowed hard, her throat trembling. "Goodbye, my lady. May the daylight follow you, even there."
Becca stepped into the carriage. The door shut behind her with a hollow thud.
Through the small window, she watched Mina grow smaller, her figure blurring in the mist that had begun to rise from the ground. The manor loomed behind her, its gray stone walls tall and unfeeling like it was relieved to see her go.
As the carriage rolled away, Becca rested her head against the window. Her chest ached, but she didn't cry. She only whispered under her breath to the wind, to herself, to the fate she could not escape.
"So this is how a life begins to end, with obedience." She couldn't help but wish she was more resilient and rebellious.
✿♡⃝✰
The journey took two days and a night.
The further the carriage went, the more the world around her seemed to pale. The sunlight dimmed by slow degrees, as though even the day hesitated to cross into Duskborne. Shadows gathered early here, crawling across the fields like living things.
Becca sat quietly by the window, her chin resting against her gloved hand. Sleep had long abandoned her. Her thoughts wandered instead to Mina's teary face at the gate, to her father's cold dismissal, and most of all, to him.
Damion NightBane.
Even thinking the name made her chest tighten. She suddenly recalled his words that night, he had whispered it into her ears like it was a secret. "It doesn't hurt, to have something one ought not to have." The words made no meaning to her, but they carried a rather strange weight.
Now, she was being sent to him, not as a guest, not as a friend, but as the future Lady of Duskborne.
A shiver coursed through her despite the thick cloak around her shoulders.
The coachman's voice called through the mist. "Milady, w we've crossed the border."
Becca drew the curtain aside. The land beyond was unlike anything she'd ever seen , an endless stretch of pale mist and skeletal trees. The air itself seemed alive, whispering softly through the branches. She caught sight of a raven perched on a crooked signpost, its feathers glistening black as ink. It tilted its head as if watching her pass.
The road wound upward, and by dusk, the first lights of Duskborne appeared dim and golden through the fog.
When the manor finally came into view, her breath caught.
It rose from the hills like a shadow carved into stone, its walls veined with ivy and time. The windows flickered faintly, each one a dull ember in the fog. The place was beautiful in a way that hurt to look at too still, too old, too knowing.
The carriage halted before towering gates of black iron. They opened slowly .
When Becca stepped out, the air was sharp and cold against her skin. The silence here was not empty, it listened.
A tall man approached, dressed in dark attire, his hair streaked with silver though his face was young. He bowed with mechanical grace. "Lady Rebecca," he said, his voice low and even. "Welcome to Duskborne. I am Aldric, the butler, I trust your journey wasn't too hectic."
Becca gave a polite smile. "It wasn't too hectic."
"That's a relief, The Lord has anticipated your arrival, your Chambers had been prepared."
Becca said nothing, She followed Aldric through the open doors into a hall vast enough to swallow her whole.
Inside, the air was cool and smelled faintly of smoke and roses. Candles burned in tall holders, their flames trembling like small, frightened things. Paintings of former lords lined the walls their eyes pale, their faces too lifelike for comfort.
She felt them watch her as she passed.
Aldric's voice broke the silence. "His Lordship sends his regards and asks that you rest from your travels. Supper will be prepared shortly."
Her room was at the end of a long corridor, the door carved with vines and thorns. Aldric bowed before leaving her there, his footsteps fading until only silence remained.
Becca stood alone in the chamber, her hands clasped before her. The room was beautiful with deep blue velvet curtains, a bed carved from dark wood, a single candle burning on the table. Its light flickered softly, it's light illuminated the room.
She exhaled slowly and walked toward the window. Beyond it stretched the vast forest of Duskborne, black and endless, the mist drifting like restless souls between the trees. But it was calm almost peaceful.
A few minutes later a knock came.
"I guess, it's not very much different here." She murmured under her breath.