Chapter 1 #2
The east wing’s corridors were grand and silent, lined with towering portraits of Thornfield ancestors, their cold eyes seeming to follow my every move.
I knelt on the icy marble floor, scrubbing until it gleamed, my hands red and wrinkled from the soapy water.
My knuckles bled from the constant scraping, but I didn’t dare stop.
A familiar set of footsteps broke the silence, and my heart sank. Miss Viossi.
“Well, look at you, making a mess,” she drawled, yawning as if she’d just rolled out of bed. Clearly, she hadn’t yet heard about the royal decree. The servants wouldn’t dare tell her.
She feigned surprise. “You’re doing such a terrible job, my shoes are getting dirty.”
I kept my head down. “I’m sorry, Miss Viossi. I’ll clean it again.”
“You’d better,” she sneered. “But first—”
With a swift kick, she knocked over my bucket, sending soapy water spilling across the floor and soaking my dress.
“Oops, how clumsy of me,” she said, her tone mockingly sweet. “Guess you’ll have to start over.”
I clenched my jaw, fighting to keep my trembling hands steady. As a slave, I was nothing but a toy to Miss Viossi.
Silently, I stood to fetch fresh water and a new rag.
“Don’t forget my room,” she called after me. “I saw fingerprints on the windows last night. Looks like you need a lesson in how to be a proper slave.”
I nodded without a word, burying my anger and humiliation deep inside. It’s what I always did—nobody in this manor seemed to care about whether I had the right to stand up for myself.
But today, a spark of curiosity flickered within me. If Miss Viossi knew she was to be wed to a monster, would she still have the energy to torment me?
As I resumed scrubbing the east wing corridor, a sudden commotion from the study shattered the quiet. Angry voices spilled out, sharp and heated.
“I absolutely will not marry that monster!” Viossi’s voice was shrill with rage. “You can’t agree to this! He’s killed four wives! Four!”
“Lower your voice, Viossi,” Lady Thornfield warned, her tone stern. “This is a royal command, not a request. Refusal is treason.”
“But he’s a horrible beast, mother!” Viossi’s voice broke, tinged with tears. “They say he looks like a monster, with a temper so foul even his servants fear him! I’d rather die than marry him!”
“Enough!” Lord Thornfield’s voice boomed like thunder. “Those are rumors, not facts! The wedding is in three days, and whether you like it or not, you will be his bride. As your father, I will gain access to the royal court—a great honor for our family and your duty.”
A tense silence followed, broken only by Lady Thornfield’s soothing tone. “My dear, we’ll find a way to protect you… There may be a solution…”
My heart raced. I knew I was overhearing something monumental, but I didn’t dare linger.
The study door flew open, and I nearly toppled over in my haste to look busy. Viossi stormed out, her face pale, her eyes red and swollen. When she saw me, something complex flickered in her gaze—fear, perhaps—before it hardened into pure hatred.
“Hey! You!” she spat. “You were eavesdropping!”
I shook my head frantically. “No, Miss Viossi, I was just cleaning—”
A sharp slap cut me off, her nails raking across my cheek, leaving stinging trails of blood.
“Lying filth!” she hissed, her eyes wild. “I should have Father throw you in the dungeon! Or better yet, send you to that monster—let him rip you apart!”
I didn’t dare argue, keeping my head bowed as her fury washed over me.
She grabbed my hair, yanking hard before shoving me to the floor and storming off.
I sat there, dizzy with fear and pain. Viossi had never been this unhinged before.
It could only mean one thing—she was terrified of her impending marriage.
I forced myself to stand, ignoring the blood trickling down my cheek, and resumed my work. But deep inside, a gnawing unease took root, as if some terrible fate was already weaving itself around me.
By nightfall, I’d finished most of my tasks, though the stables and Viossi’s windows remained undone. I knew tomorrow would bring harsher punishments, but my body was at its limit.
My stomach growled as I trudged through the manor—no one would have set aside food for me.
“Lilia?”
Martha’s voice stopped me as I passed the kitchen. She gasped at the sight of my scratched face. “Who did this? Miss Viossi?”
I nodded, unwilling to say more. She gently touched the wounds, her eyes flashing with anger and sorrow.
“That’s too much,” she muttered, pulling a clean cloth from her apron and dabbing my face with water. “These needs tending.”
“It’s fine, Martha,” I said, trying to reassure her. “I’m used to it.”
“You shouldn’t have to be,” she said, her voice trembling with quiet fury. She pulled me to a corner of the kitchen, retrieving a small bottle from a hidden shelf. “Herbal salve—good for wounds.” She applied it gently to my face.
“Thank you, Martha,” I whispered, my throat tight with gratitude.
“Lilia,” she said, her tone turning grave, “a strange old woman came today, taken straight to Lord Thornfield’s study. The servants say she’s a sorceress.”
A chill ran through me. “A sorceress? Why is she here?”
“I don’t know,” Martha said, shaking her head. “But I have a bad feeling. Be extra careful tonight, understand? If they call you to the study, stay sharp.”
She handed me a small bundle of food. “Your dinner. I knew they’d let you go hungry, so I saved this. No matter what they say or do, hold on to who you are. You’re stronger than they think.”
I took the bundle, and she pulled me into a warm embrace.
“My little wolf,” she whispered in my ear. “Be brave.”
I slipped out to the back door, eating my meal under the moonlight—a piece of bread, a bit of cheese, and a few slices of fruit. For a slave like me, it was a feast.
As I prepared to sneak back to the attic, Ella appeared.
“Lilia, the masters want to see you. Go to the study. Now.”
I stared at her, my heart racing, Martha’s warning echoing in my mind. “Did I do something wrong?”
She shook her head, and for the first time, her eyes held a trace of pity. “I don’t know. But don’t keep them waiting.”
Fear gripped me. A summons from the masters usually meant punishment. Maybe they knew I’d overheard their argument, or maybe it was about the unfinished tasks. Whatever it was, as a slave, I had no choice but to face it.
In the study, Lord and Lady Thornfield stood with a stranger—an old woman I’d never seen before. Viossi leaned against the window, her eyes red and puffy. My wolf growled softly inside me, uneasy.
“Close the door,” Lord Thornfield ordered, his voice cold and final. I obeyed, my hands trembling. He fixed his gaze on me. “Girl, do you know why you’re here?”
I shook my head, struggling to stay steady.
“We’ve found a new… purpose for you,” he said, each word deliberates. “One that will change your life.”
Lady Thornfield stepped forward, her smile falsely kind, her eyes as cold as ever. “Lilia, you understand how important loyalty is to our family, don’t you?”
“Yes, my lady,” I whispered, fear coursing through me like ice.
“Good,” she said with a nod. “Because starting today, you’ll prove your loyalty in a very special way.”
Lord Thornfield cleared his throat, cutting to the point. “The royal family demands our daughter marry Prince Perock. But Viossi’s health prevents her from fulfilling this duty.”
I glanced at Viossi, confused—she looked perfectly healthy. She avoided my gaze, staring at the floor.
“So,” Lord Thornfield continued, “you will take her place. You will marry the prince as Viossi.”
Time stopped. My ears rang, and panic flooded me, blurring my vision and shallowing my breath.
“No,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “No, that’s impossible…”
“Silence, you wretch!” Viossi screamed, her eyes a mix of fear and relief. “You should be honored! You’ll be the prince’s bride!”
But my mind reeled with the horrifying rumors—the monster who devoured his brides’ hearts, the four vanished wives, the screams echoing in his castle…
“It can’t work,” I stammered, panic rising. “The prince will know I’m not Viossi. We look nothing alike, and—”
“That’s why we’ve brought Madam Greta,” Lady Thornfield interrupted, gesturing to the old woman. “She’s the kingdom’s finest transformation sorceress. She’ll ensure no one can tell the difference.”
Greta stepped forward, her eyes gleaming unnaturally. “The spell will alter your appearance to match Viossi’s perfectly. Even those closest to her won’t suspect a thing.”
I stumbled back, shock and terror intertwining, my heart hammering wildly.
Lord Thornfield smiled, his attempt at kindness twisting into something sinister. “You’ll have wealth and status beyond your wildest dreams, even if only for a time. It’s far better than a slave’s fate.”
Bile rose in my throat. They’d made their decision—my voice meant nothing.
Greta approached, her bony fingers reaching for me. “But we can’t risk you running or revealing the truth, so I’ll add a little safeguard.”
Before I could react, her fingers pressed against my chest, right over my heart. A sharp, icy pain shot through me, stealing my breath and locking my scream in my throat. The dark magic seeped into my blood, coiling around my heart.
“It’s done,” Greta said, stepping back with a satisfied nod. “If she tries to flee or betray us, her heart will shatter.”
I collapsed to my knees, the alien magic pulsing within me, my wolf howling in agony. Cold sweat drenched my forehead as I curled in pain.
“Now,” Lady Thornfield said calmly, “let’s begin the transformation.”
Greta produced a crystal vial filled with purple liquid. “This contains Viossi’s essence,” she explained. “Mixed with your blood, it will mimic her every feature.”
She sliced my palm with a small knife, letting my blood drip into the vial. The liquid bubbled, turning a deep crimson.
“Drink it,” Greta commanded, thrusting the vial toward me. “Every drop.”
My hands shook, but I refused to take it—my last act of defiance.
Viossi snarled, snatching the vial. She grabbed my hair, yanking hard—tearing out a few strands—and pinched my face, forcing my mouth open.
“Drink!” she hissed, pouring the liquid down my throat.
At first, I tasted only a strange metallic tang. Then a searing heat erupted, spreading like molten fire through my veins. My bones twisted, my skin stretched and reshaped. My hair shortened and darkened, my face molded by invisible hands into Viossi’s.
I wanted to scream, but my voice was trapped. Through the unbearable pain, I saw Viossi’s triumphant smile and the relieved expressions of Lord and Lady Thornfield.
Then the world spun, and darkness swallowed me whole.