"It has been decided," Lord Marec announced flatly, tossing the scroll across the floor. It rolled and stopped at Lilian's feet. "You are to marry Duke Caelan Morvane in two days. The least you can do is make yourself look more presentable for your own wedding day."
His gaze dragged over her from head to toe, slow and utterly merciless, as though assessing something barely worth acknowledging.
Disgust wasn't even disguised.
Lilian remained rooted at the center of the room, her senses dulled by the weight of her uncle's words.
She is getting married?
Her?
Since when?
And to Duke Caelan?
Impossible!
It… it can't possibly be!
Was this another one of her uncle's cruel jest?
Several thoughts swirled in her mind at his words, her gaze fixed on the parchment at her feet like it would bite her if she touched it.
At last, she crouched and picked it up, her fingers trembling.
She lifted the scroll and unfurled it. The royal seal bled into the parchment, unmistakable and final. It was an official decree from the crown, offering her as tribute in a political union.
"At this point, we'll have no choice but to waste money on proper attire for her," Lord Marec muttered, irritation curling at his lips.
Beside him, his wife, Gloria, scoffed and waved her hand dismissively at the thought. "Why should we spend a coin on a disgraced child? It's not like anyone at the wedding is going to be paying her any sort of attention, right? Anastasia can spare her one of her old dresses for the wedding. That should suffice."
Anastasia, who lingered nearby said nothing and simply crossed her arms as she pondered on her mother's idea. Then, a slight frown crossed her face.
Meanwhile, their voices faded into the background for Lilian, who was focused on reading the parchment over and over again as if expecting the words to change.
"No," she shook her head, her fingers curling tightly around the parchment until the edges crumpled. Reality slammed into her with merciless clarity, and everyone in the room turned to her.
"No. I cannot… I will not. The Morvanes… I refuse to—!"
And then–
SLAP!
The sound cracked through the room like thunder.
Pain flared across Lilian's cheek as the force sent her crashing to the floor, her vision jolting and spinning. She hissed as the sharp sting burned where skin had met cruelly. And for a moment, there was only silence, followed by the metallic taste of shock lingering on her tongue.
When she lifted her gaze, it was not her uncle who stood over her.
It was Nathan.
Her cousin's eyes burned with fury, his jaw clenched as though her very existence offended his presence.
"How dare you refuse?!" he snarled. "You will marry the Duke whether you want to or not. It has been decided. There's nothing you can do about it."
Lilian's hand trembled as she pushed herself up, her tears clinging stubbornly to her lashes, but defiance still burned through her fears.
"I REFUSE!" She cried out, her voice cracking with rage. "I refuse to be a part of this. You're asking me to marry into the same family that destroyed my home and killed my father. I will not!"
"You will marry the Duke if you know what's good for you," Nathan threatened, stepping closer to her. "Your father was a traitor and he deserved what he got! You of all people should be grateful that the Morvanes even agreed to take in someone as worthless as you! With this union, at least your existence serves some purpose instead of rotting useless under our roof!"
"You don't need to hit her," Lord Marec apprehended his son, sounding more irritated rather than concerned. "She will be marrying the duke in two days. Do you wish them to believe we brutalize her everyday under our care? Don't damage her face any further than it already is. It is unpleasant enough as it stands."
Desperation seized Lilian whole.
She lurched forward and dropped to the floor before her uncle, clutching desperately at his leg as if he were her only lifeline. Her trembling fingers dug into the fabric of his trousers, her crimson-rimmed eyes shining with raw, frantic plea as she looked up at him.
"U-Uncle… don't do this to me, p-please," she begged. "If you don't want me here, I will leave. I-I'll go anywhere. You'll never have to see me again, I swear it. Just… Please, speak to the crown about this alliance. Cancel the wedding. It's… not right! The Morvanes are cruel… they will not spare me over there!"
"Do not taint my husband with your disgraced hands," Gloria snapped, stepping forward. She seized Lilian's arm and shoved her away with sharp force, her expression pinched with disdain. "This marriage benefits us as well, so why should we release you, hm? Besides, it's no use begging us for help, because it was we who offered you up in the first place."
The truth settled like frost in Lilian's bones. Her gaze darted between Marec and Gloria, then at Nathan and Anastasia. So… they weren't just sending her away, they were also responsible for delivering her to her father's enemies?
W-why? Did they really hate her that much?
Her gaze settled on Anastasia.
For a fleeting moment, their eyes met, and then Anastasia looked away, as though Lilian's desperation was something she could not bear witness to.
For the first time, Lilian had no idea what to make of her expression.
"No one will help you," Nathan said, snapping his fingers viciously close to her face. "Wake up, Lilian. Your life is officially over. You will be locked in your chambers during the whole preparation, so you don't have any chances of escaping. Someone please take her away from here!"
*************
Lilian often wondered just how merciless her fate had been written.
During those two days, she had been completely isolated from the rest of the world. Since the very moment she was brought to live with her uncle twelve years ago, she had never truly known freedom, yet this isolation felt terribly different.
Before, she had at least been allowed to drift through the quiet corridors, or linger somewhere in the forgotten corners of the estate. But now, even that small comfort had been stripped away.
She had been locked inside her chamber— if such a cold, airless space could even be called one. She did not receive food or water. There was only silence, occasionally broken by the faint creak of the manor or the distant laughter that reminded her she was still surrounded by life that did not include her. There was no window either. She had been moved to this suffocating space after her last failed attempt to escape from here using the window in her previous room.
Her limbs felt heavy, trembling with exhaustion. Each breath came shallow, and her eyelids refused to stay open, drooping no matter how fiercely she tried to remain conscious.
"You must… stay strong," she encouraged herself, even if all she wanted to do was sleep.
This was her life in Lord Marec's household. And to think her father always considered him dearly. She wondered how her father would react if he ever saw his brother treating her like this.
Since the fall of House Vale, Lilian had been reduced to nothing more than the disgraced daughter of Lord Aeren, a living reminder of a name no one wished to remember.
As if that humiliation wasn't enough, she was now to be married into the very house that had destroyed her own… the same hands that had torn her world apart and forced this cruel existence upon her.
She should have been crying, but even her tears had long since ceased to fall.
Perhaps they never would again. She was already drained past despair.
She laid on the cold floor, unable to continue sitting upright any longer. She did not know how much time had passed before the heavy doors creaked open, allowing pale light to spill into the dim room. Her lashes fluttered as she blinked sluggishly, her vision swimming, until the figures of two maids came into focus.
They stood over her, their faces carefully composed.
"It's time to wake up, Lady Lilian. We need to prepare you for your wedding," one of them said, her tone flat and her expression unreadable.