Ella nervously stared at her mother. The confrontation between the two made her feel as if she were waiting for a volcano to erupt.
Even though Ella was young, she could understand what was currently happening, but she had no power to speak since she felt she had no place to do so.
All Ella could do was tighten her grip on her mother's hand.
Eleanor spoke again after a few seconds, while Richard stayed silent.
"You want us to return to your manor because you need a wife replacement, Richard?" Eleanor spoke calmly, but her voice trembled.
Richard rolled his eyes. He didn't flinch as he said, "Yes."
The word hung in the air, heavier than a stone.
"You think marriage is just a matter of replacement?" Eleanor's voice broke slightly. "Your wife… does her memory mean so little to you?"
Richard's jaw tightened. "Don't speak of things you don't understand," he said coolly. "Her death left a void that needs to be filled in. The household needs stability, and you're the most suitable candidate since you're the only one left alive. You stand beside me, and you will be useful."
Eleanor's face paled. "Useful…" she whispered.
Richard stepped closer, his height casting a shadow over Eleanor.
Instinctively, Eleanor immediately pulled Ella behind her, protecting her if Richard would do something to them.
"Tell me, Eleanor. Aren't you supposed to be happy? All your competitors died and left me. The spot is yours to take, and you don't want it now?" Richard stated in a mock tone, raising his eyebrow.
Eleanor's breath caught.
For a moment, Ella thought her mother would slap Richard, but Eleanor only straightened, trembling yet composed.
"Mama?" Ella called out softly. She could feel her mother's fingers trembling around her hand, but she didn't let go.
Eleanor inhaled deeply. "If that is truly what you believe," Eleanor finally said, her voice soft but firm, "then I pity you, Richard."
Richard's lip twitched into something between a sneer and a smile. "Save your pity. I don't need it. I only need a wife."
Richard turned slightly toward the waiting priest, who stood near the garden archway. Servants hovered in the background, uncertain whether to look or to run away.
"Let's not delay," Richard commanded coldly. "Begin the ceremony."
Eleanor's eyes widened in belief. "Now? You cannot be serious—"
"I am," Richard interrupted, his tone leaving no room for refusal. "You'll wed me as you are. There's no need for gowns or veils. The less pretense, the better."
Ella's heart pounded as she looked at her mother's simple grey dress, creased from travels, smudged faintly with dust. It wasn't a dress meant for vows or beginnings, but for endings.
And yet, as the priest nervously opened his book and began reciting the solemn words, no one dared to speak.
Eleanor looked at Ella as she unheld her hand from her. "Go to your sisters, Ella. We'll be fine," she whispered, giving a slight smile.
Ella opened her mouth to speak, but seeing how Richard gazed at her. She felt fear down to her bones as she sauntered to where her sisters stood unbothered by what had just happened.
'I want to go back home,' Ella thought as she clutched her small hands together. Tears brimmed in her eyes while looking down.
Eleanor felt heartbroken. She knew Ella understood their current situation, and she felt guilty, as she had told her daughter, before arriving, that they would have a good life in nobility.
"Do you, Eleanor," the priest's voice quivered slightly, "take this man to be your lawful husband, to cherish and obey—"
Eleanor's throat tightened. She took a slow, shaky breath. "…I do."
Richard didn't hesitate when his turn came. His reply was sharp, quick, as if this were merely another transaction. "I do."
The priest gave a short, uneasy blessing, his hands trembling slightly as he finished. "Then by the grace of the heavens and the laws of this land, I pronounced you husband and wife."
The words echoed faintly across the garden— cold, hollow, and final.
Richard turned to face Eleanor, but he didn't smile. He didn't even reach for her hand. Instead, he gave a curt nod, as though he wasn't looking at his wife. "It's done," he said quietly, turning away.
Eleanor's breath hitched, her fingers still trembling at her side as he watched Richard and his two daughters leave the garden.
Several servants and the priest followed outside, leaving Ella standing, her eyes fixed on her mother.
Eleanor stood frozen. Her gaze was empty—vacant, as though something within her heart quietly shattered.
"Mama…" Ella's voice was small, hesitant.
Eleanor's lips parted to speak, but no words came. Instead, she let out a sharp, broken laugh—too brittle to be mistaken for joy, too hollow to be sane. Her hands went to her hair, pulling the pins loose, the once-neat hair falling apart as strands tangled around her fingers, and her knees gave out, completely kneeling to the cold floor.
"Useful… replacement," Eleanor whispered, her voice cracked and raw. "He said he only needs a wife…"
"Mama…" Ella took a step forward. She sensed fear toward her mother for the first time and felt as if she was looking at a whole different person.
"I thought he wanted me… he will finally love me… but… but… I'm just a replacement!!!" Eleanor screamed all her heart out.
Ella flinched hard, stepping back as tears streamed down her face. Flashbacks appeared in Ella's mind of her mother being excited to return to the manor, just for her to become like that.
"All my competitors died, and I'm the lucky one." Eleanor gave a strangled laugh, then clutched her chest as tears spilled freely down her cheeks. "Lucky… that's what I am, Ella. Isn't that what he said?"
"Mama, please…" Ella's little voice was pleading, but Eleanor didn't seem to hear her as she was spiraling deeper into despair.
"I thought it would be different this time… that he changed," Eleanor's voice shook violently. "But it's the same cage."
The once graceful woman who had spoken of hope and love now looked broken beyond repair.
"Mama… stop crying, please," Ella ran toward her mother, hugging her tightly. "We can go home, right? We'll leave—"
Eleanor pulled back, her eyes wild and distant. "Home?" She echoed faintly, then gave another dry, eerie laugh. "There's no home now, my darling."