By evening the next day, Mildred and the other women had busied themselves preparing me for the festival.
They pinned a veil of deep ocean blue carefully over the braids woven through my hair, concealing the uneven strands hidden beneath from where the healer had cut around my stitches. The dark fabric made the rest of my hair appear even darker as it cascaded down my back in soft waves.
Beautiful.
Far too beautiful for someone planning to seek the arms of another.
Then came the cosmetics.
One of the younger servant girls brushed fine shimmering powder lightly along the corners of my eyes so they would shine beneath the soft glow of the firelight, while another tinted my cheeks with crushed berry pigment until warmth bloomed naturally across my skin.
I barely recognized myself by the end of it.
"You remind me very much of Lord Gwrgenau's former betrothed," Mildred remarked casually while adjusting the final pins in my hair.
Something inside me tightened instantly.
"He was betrothed?" I asked carefully, despite already knowing the answer.
Mildred nodded.
"A noblewoman from the western tribes," she explained while smoothing the folds of my gown. "Very beautiful. Dark hair like yours. Pale skin." She paused thoughtfully. "Though her eyes were green. Like olives."
My chest tightened faintly for reasons I refused to examine too closely.
The gown they had chosen matched the veil perfectly, its rich blue wool softened with delicate embroidery near the hems. A long shawl draped elegantly over my arms, secured at my waist by a rose-gold belt adorned with small metal roses carved carefully by hand.
"What happened?" I asked quietly, studying my reflection beneath the polished bronze mirror.
Mildred adjusted the folds of my shawl one final time before answering.
"Lord Gwrgenau discovered that her family had pledged support to the Romans," she said matter-of-factly, stepping back afterward to admire her work with visible pride. "There now. Beautiful. I truly have outdone myself."
"Yes," Gen's voice interrupted from the doorway. "You have, Mildred."
Immediately, every woman in the room bowed their heads respectfully.
Mildred included.
Instinctively, I moved to do the same, but Gen crossed the room before I could lower myself fully, extending a hand toward me instead.
"None of that."
I straightened slowly.
Tonight, he looked less like a noble lord and more like something carved out of old Britannian legends. Dark leather layered over wool, fitted trousers tucked into heavy boots, a deep blue cloak fastened at one shoulder with a golden brooch almost identical to the rose-gold belt around my waist.
The realization settled heavily inside me.
There were deliberate similarities between our clothing. I finally understood what tonight truly was for.
Gen had not invited me to a festival merely out of kindness.
No, he intended to present me beside him.
As his.
"Thank you, Mildred," he said without taking his eyes off me. "But I can manage it from here."
Mildred nodded immediately, though not before unsuccessfully hiding a knowing smile as she ushered the servant girls from the chamber. One by one, they slipped quietly through the doorway until only the two of us remained.
The door stayed partially open behind them.
Still, the air shifted almost immediately once we were alone.
Gen stepped closer.
Too close now.
There was something in those deep blue eyes that made my pulse falter slightly, like he had already decided something dangerous long before entering this room.
He looked like he wanted to kiss me again.
So before he could, I spoke first.
"I would like to know what happened."
His brows lifted faintly.
"To what?"
"To your betrothed," I clarified softly. "Did she pass away?"
For a moment, silence settled between us.
Then slowly, the corner of his mouth curved upward.
"No," he answered calmly.
His fingers lifted, brushing lightly against the edge of my veil.
"She survived."
Something cold flickered beneath his expression then.
"But when I discovered her family intended to betray my people by marrying her off to the Romans instead," he continued quietly, "I killed every man involved myself, before she finally killed herself."
My breath caught.
The confession had came so casually calm, like he was discussing weather rather than slaughter.
"I am sorry," I said, standing there beneath the dim candlelight while his fingers lingered against my veil. "I should not have asked."
"If I did not know better," he murmured softly, his fingers drifting beneath my chin to tilt my face upward slightly, "I might believe you were her sister."
His eyes darkened as they searched mine.
I gently pulled my chin away from his touch.
"Unlikely," I replied quietly.
One side of his mouth curved upward faintly at that.
Then, as though the conversation hadn't just turned unsettling, he offered me his hand.
Reluctantly, I placed mine in it.
"I should hope not," he said casually as he guided me toward the doorway. "Considering I made certain to wipe out every remaining member of her family."
The words settled coldly down my spine.
And yet, his grip around my hand remained impossibly gentle.
Gen kept hold of my hand as he guided me from his bedroom, down the long stone corridors of the manor and toward the grand staircase. Servants stepped aside the moment they saw us coming, lowering their heads respectfully as their lord passed.
Outside, dusk had begun settling across the estate.
Torches burned along the courtyard walls, their flames dancing against the darkening sky while stable boys hurried back and forth preparing horses for the evening.
A carriage was already waiting at the foot of the step. Not the enclosed kind I remembered from films, but a finely crafted cart draped in wool and furs, built for comfort despite the rough roads.
One of the guards opened the door immediately.
Gen helped me inside before climbing in after me.
The moment the horses began moving, the estate slowly disappeared behind us.
For awhile, neither of us spoke. I simply watched the countryside roll past instead, fields and scattered cottages bathed in the last traces of sunlight. How these were all fields centuries later, with nothing but empty fields behind stoned gates lining up the road leading to the estate.
Gen was the first to break the silence.
"Tonight, I shall introduce you properly."
I turned slightly toward him. "To whom?"
"The village elders, the merchants. The neighboring families. The Roman soldiers watching. Everyone." His gaze remained fixed on the road ahead.
"I shall make it known that you are under my protection."
The words sounded simple enough, but I couldn't help but detect something else laying beneath them. Something a man of his station was used to having. Authority.
A warning to anyone who might think otherwise.
So I remained silent.
And perhaps he sensed my discomfort because his eyes shifted toward me briefly before returning back to the road.
"From there," he continued calmly, "we shall see who recognizes you."
My stomach tightened, suddenly thinking of Marcus.
"What do you mean?"
"If you truly belong to anyone nearby, someone will know your face."
His fingers tapped once against his knee.
"If you were taken from another tribe, perhaps they shall claim you."
Another tap.
"If you are the daughter of some noble family somewhere, word will eventually reach them."
I swallowed.
"And if nobody claims me?"
For the first time since that evening, his expression hardened.
His warmth disappeared, leaving only the calculating lord underneath.
"Then the gods have already given me my answer."
The carriage wheels rattled over stone.
I frowned. "What answer?"
Finally, after a long pause, he turned his gaze toward me.
"Think about it, Helena." His voice was calm, almost thoughtful.
"I prayed at my altar that morning." His eyes lingered on mine. "And before the day was over, I found a strange woman lying unconscious beside it."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"How else am I meant to interpret that?"
My stomach tightened.
"You think the gods sent me?"
"I believe," he said carefully, "that if no one recognizes you, if no family comes searching, if no husband nor tribe claims you..." He leaned back slightly. "Then perhaps you were simply meant to be found."
The words should have sounded comforting. But instead, they made me uneasy.
"Meant for what?"
His gaze swept over me slowly.
"For me to claim as mine."
Heat rushed to my face.
The certainty in his voice was far more unsettling than suspicion would have been.
Gen wasn't just attracted to me. He seemed to believe that my existence was no accident at all, as though the gods themselves had placed me in his path. As though I had been meant for him from the very beginning.
A cold realization settled over me.
If I did not find Marcus soon and escape while I still could, I would remain here forever.
Trapped beneath Gen's protection.