From within the fortress, a man purposefully stepped out, dressed in what at first glance looked like a butler's uniform - though far more refined and dignified than any servant's attire should be.
He approached Lady Constance who had gotten down from her carriage and inclined his head slightly in a courteous greeting. "You are back, Lady Constance. How was your journey from the southern borders?"
Lady Constance gave the old man a condescending look. "And why do you care about any of that, Cedric?"
"I do not understand you, My Lady," he replied evenly, his expression unreadable. "But the Duke has given me explicit orders to attend to his bride upon her arrival."
Lilian's eyes widened imperceptibly at the words.
Lady Constance frowned, suspicion knitting her brows. "And when did he make such orders?"
"Before he left to deal with the beasts attempting to breach the southern routes," Cedric replied smoothly. "I am merely following instructions, My Lady. I must see the new Lady to her chamber."
Confusion flickered across both women's faces. At the wedding, the Duke had sparsely spared her a glance and walked away without even lifting her veil. So why, now, would he command someone to attend to her personally?
Was there an even greater punishment awaiting her than this?
"Alright," Lady Constance agreed after a minute's hesitation. "But only because the Duke ordered it. You may take her with you. But don't forget, Cedric, she is not one of us. She is a Vale, and we do not entertain traitors."
'But you let the Duke marry one.' Lilian thought bitterly, though she dared not speak it aloud.
The old man's eyes flickered with acknowledgement, but he remained silent. He turned his attention to Lilian. She would have bowed if her legs weren't killing her, so instead she simply inclined her head.
The man she guessed was Cidrec was tall and straight-backed, his silver-white hair neatly combed and styled. His pale blue eyes held a calm, measured light, and Lilian could see that he had once been handsome in his prime.
"Follow me," he said.
Without another word, he began walking, and Lilian limped after him.
He walked ahead in a steady space, sensing her struggle. Lilian simply followed, hugging herself as they passed through the vast interior of the fortress. The place was much colder than she expected it to be, her gaze shifting from the vast, yet silent towering place of stone walls, iron sconces, to the faint echoes that seemed to swallow sound whole.
After a few minutes, Cedric slowed his steps ever so slightly, enough for her to catch up without struggling.
"You must be tired," he said without looking back. "The journey from the southern borders is long… and from your condition, I can tell the journey has been unkind in many ways."
Lilian blinked.
"I'm alright," she whispered.
Although Cedric said nothing, it was obvious he did not believe her. Truthfully, she didn't believe herself either.
As they moved deeper into the fortress, he gestured subtly at their surroundings. "You should know a few things, my lady. The Northwind fortress has its own ways of functioning. The servants rise before dawn, or at the very moment it breaks. We have soldiers patrolling at every hour. And the Duke keeps the entire upper floor secured. No one enters without his direct permission. Keep that in mind… especially if you intend to wander."
Lilian lowered her gaze. "I understand…"
"The people here are loyal," Cedric continued. "Not to titles or the crowns, but to the Duke himself. They follow his rules, not society's. Whatever bitter history lies between you and the Morvanes, for your own safety, it would be wise to earn their favor rather than oppose them. Doing otherwise will only bring you suffering, and the Duke is not exempt from that. In time, perhaps you two will come to understand each other."
Lilian felt her brows crease. His words unsettled her more than they guided her.
Understand him?
She had no intention of doing so.
After what felt like an endless climb up the spiraling stairs, they finally reached a grand set of double doors. The woods were dark and polished, carved with the crest of the Northern wind, an armored wolf surrounded by storm winds.
The door swung open, and Cedric halted. "These are your chambers, my lady."
Lilian limped forward, her breath catching when she saw the room beyond.
"Mine?" She whispered, stunned.
He couldn't be serious.
"The Duke's chamber," Cedric clarified, matter-of-fact. "But since you are married to him, it is by his orders that you stay here. In his room and wait."
Her heart thundered against her ribs. The vast chamber seemed to stretch endlessly, as though it might swallow her whole the moment she crossed the threshold.
What… was happening?
After Lady Constance's cruelty in the carriage, Lilian had expected a cold prison cell before anything resembling comfort.
But… she doesn't want to stay in the same space as the Duke.
"He returns in the early mornings," Cedric said quietly. "Please, get some rest, and I'll send some maids to attend to you. I'm the Steward around here and I oversee this wing. The Duke trusts me to look after what is his. If you need anything at all, send for me directly."
With those words, he stepped back and left her standing at the doorway. She stood alone, staring into the room she was expected to share with the man she feared the most.
She didn't like this.
There must be a catch to all these unanswered generosity. If she was going to end up in some prison she'd prefer they put her in there now so she can get used to it on time. Not even her previous room in her uncle's home was this grand. The place felt too comfortable for her liking.
Could she even ask for a different room?
*****************
Just as Cedric had promised, a few maids arrived shortly after.
She was taken to a separate chamber where, to her surprise, they tended to her with practiced gentleness. They cleaned her wounds, bathing her in warm, soothing water that lulled her into half-sleep more than once. Even when they removed her mask and saw her face, none of them even reacted or whispered amongst themselves. Their reactions felt almost alien to Lilian. They way they harmlessly treated her unsettled her more than any cruelty could have, and a lingering restlessness crept beneath her skin.
Once she was washed, they dressed her in a simple but soft nightgown. She was brought to the Duke's chamber after that, and they departed, leaving her alone inside the giant chamber.
Lilian stared at the massive bed strewn with rose petals, the fragrant decorations clearly arranged in expectation of something she refused to entertain. She shook her head sharply.
She wanted to gather the roses and toss them out the window.
Refusing even to touch the Duke's bed, she crossed the room, curled up on one of the chaise lounges, and hugged a spare pillow to her chest. Perhaps the nightgown they put on for her was meant to encourage compliance, but she would not allow the Duke to lay his hands on her. Not willingly. Not ever.
Living under the roof of those who destroyed her life meant there were only dangers surrounding her. Her gaze drifted to the knife resting beside a half-cut apple, and she snatched it.
Crude or not, a weapon was a weapon. She would use it on anyone who attempts to murder her tonight.
After staying awake for some time, exhaustion took over. She didn't know when she fell asleep, or how many hours had passed… only that a sudden presence looming near jolted her awake.
Her instincts took over, and she shot upright, raising the knife to the person's neck without hesitation.
The figure stopped moving.
Lilian opened her eyes, and froze.
Hovering above her was easily the most arresting, and impossibly captivating pair of amber eyes she had ever seen, and it watched her with unmistakable amusement.
"You're a light sleeper, it seems," the man murmured, his lips curving faintly. He didn't sound the least bit concerned that she had a knife pressed to his throat. "Holding a blade to your husband's neck. I guess I judged you too soon. You're not nearly as timid as you pretend to be."