Chapter 6
When Ursuline finally dropped me off at the estate, I’d been tempted to beg them to stay.
Odd, seeing as they were a total stranger, but their formidableness filled me with the first bit of comfort I could latch onto.
However, once I entered the Triton Estate and the butler escorted me to my room, I felt like I’d been sent to another posh prison. The Triton Estate might have different décor than the Durand Estate, but it was cold and forbidding in a way I struggled to settle into.
I lay down on the plush bed in my new room, all ocean blues with sea glass décor.
At least this felt a little more comfortable than the room I’d left behind.
To be honest, I was surprised they’d put me in a separate wing from Arielle, since we were betrothed.
Although, from the understanding I’d gotten from her, she also viewed this as a transaction, not anything… real.
A knock sounded at the door, and I sat up.
Arielle stood in the doorway, a smile on her lips.
Her long, coppery orange hair traveled to her waist, twined back in a braid today, and she wore a winsome yellow dress that cinched at the waist to flow out in a larger skirt.
She was stunning, with wide, curious eyes and delicate features, but my body didn’t respond in the slightest.
“When did you arrive?” she asked.
“An hour ago,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. I attempted to paste on a smile, but it wobbled.
“Don’t look so tortured,” she teased. “I’m well aware of what this is—a marriage we’ve both been pushed into. I’m not under any delusions I’m your one. We played the parts, did our duties, and now we can enjoy our lives and our own pursuits.”
That should comfort me—that Arielle wasn’t trying to force a romance on me, but instead the words knifed at my heart a little more. That I’d never have the love I’d longed for. That I’d only get trysts in the dark while we put up a facade.
“You’re as free as you want to be while you’re here, apart from the appearances we’ll need to make at balls. What do you like to do, besides getting spat out by the ocean?” Arielle asked, coming over to plop down on the mattress beside me.
“Do I have to stay here?” I asked. “In the estate?”
Arielle’s laugh was light, tinkling. “You’re not a prisoner.
” She gave me a light push, and I fought the urge to lean into the contact—any contact—after being touch starved my whole life.
“You might need to let us know where you go so you’ve got guards with you, but of course you can go where you like. ”
The idea of heading to Jason’s with guards felt ridiculous, but maybe they’d allow me to go in by myself and wait outside. The first fluttering of hope burst in my chest. That even though I’d been sold to a rich family, I might not be as trapped as I’d imagined.
“What do you like to do?” I asked, even though I never answered her question.
“Dance,” she said with a wink. “Papa wanted me married off as fast as possible because he was tired of finding me at the clubs in Peregrine City. He said I partied too much. Thought it gave our family a bad name.”
“If you want to dance, that’s great,” I offered, appreciating her openness. “I’ll forewarn you, though, I’ve got no coordination.”
“Our parents will probably require us to take lessons before the wedding,” she said. “Something formal. Definitely not anything slutty.” Another laugh spilled out of her. “This is weird, right?”
A laugh burst out of me, and some of the pressure that had been weighing me down lightened. “So damn weird. I spent so long with my father hounding me to take on the family business after him, and now that those responsibilities aren’t mine anymore, I have no idea what my future looks like.”
“This is about freedom.” Arielle passed me a glance. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not feeling any sparks, no offense. But I also didn’t enter into this expecting some romantic whirlwind.”
“You don’t hold back, do you?” I said, more knots loosening. “I’m not offended, though I can admit I never wanted an arranged marriage.”
“Then why did you propose?” she asked, curiosity dancing in her eyes.
“My father is excellent at coercion,” I responded. “He’s always had methods of getting what he wanted.”
“Mine’s…complicated,” Arielle said, the light dimming from her expression for the first time. “But he’s loyal to our family.”
Loyalty to our families was what got us into this in the first place, but I swallowed the words back. She already knew. “Would you mind showing me around the estate? It feels odd to poke around on my own.”
Arielle rolled her eyes. “You realize you’re living here, right? You’re free to go anywhere you like—just respect people’s privacy. Don’t rummage around in bedrooms.” She tugged at the opalescent blue pendant hanging down by her breasts.
“Let’s start with the kitchen,” I said, even though I ate recently. “I’ve seen the entrance and dining hall, but this place is massive. It’ll take a while to explore.”
“Sorry you had to deal with Ursuline bringing you over,” Arielle said. “They’re so serious and pissy all the time.”
My brow wrinkled. They hadn’t come across like that in the slightest. If anything, they’d been sharp, attentive, and kind.
I’d felt comfortable in their presence in a way that was rare, and I liked that they’d taken me to their monster hangout rather than some stuffy human place.
“They made the transition more bearable.”
“Are you a saint or something?” Arielle said with a laugh.
Their comment prickled under my skin, even though I had no reason for allegiance.
Maybe more because I didn’t have reason to condemn them when they’d done nothing wrong.
“Anyway,” she said, pushing up from her seat on the bed.
“Let’s go to the kitchen first. I’ll show you the best places in the house. ”
She traipsed forward, all lightness, with an upbeat nature I envied. I wasn’t mired in misery, but I waded more through a palette of emotions, splashing different ones on the page every waking hour. To be that carefree wasn’t in my nature.
We strode down the staircase on the opposite side of the hallway, this one leading to what looked like an entertaining area, with flatscreens mounted, couches scattered about, and a grand fireplace on the far wall.
The entire wall along the back was glass, two doors carved in the middle.
It showcased a breathtaking view of Hawk Bay, which lay directly behind the Triton Estate.
“How often do you swim in there?” I asked. Even after my last experience with the ocean, the itch to swim hadn’t been knocked out of me. And in the bay, it’d be far safer than facing the riptides in the sea.
“Daily,” Arielle said without turning around. “Why else do you think we chose this property?”
“Does your whole family like to swim?” I asked.
“You could say that,” she said, a hint of a tease in her voice, like some secret danced beneath the surface. “The kitchen is right through here.”
She strolled through the archway into an open kitchen, also with an oceanic motif, the breezy, beachside feel present through the entire house.
White latticed windows spread out across the back of the kitchen, displaying more of the stunning view.
The bay sparkled, beckoning me to take a dip.
The tan furniture arranged by the windows complemented the pale sand-colored flooring and the cream walls.
The blue accents were purposeful, symbols I recognized as belonging to the settlements in New Atlantis.
The blue tiles shimmered along the back of the burners and framed the kitchen counters. The multiple ovens and extensive ranges made it clear some of the cooking was done here, even though I had the feeling they also had a private kitchen as well. Most places like this did.
“You never answered my question, you know,” she called over to me from where she stood by the window. “If you don’t have hobbies, you’re going to go insane here. Unless you want to give dancing another try and hit the clubs with me.”
“Do you have anywhere I can paint?” I’d bought some basic supplies this week, since I was no longer in my parents’ estate where they’d forbidden it. If I could do that…maybe I’d survive this after all.
“We’ve got studio space,” she said. “It’s by the music room. Our parents always encouraged pursuits in the arts, but none of us had much talent or interest.”
My mouth dropped. “Studio space?”
Arielle wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, a whole messload of brushes, paints, whatever artists use. Is that your thing? My father will be thrilled. He purchases a lot of art.”
“Do you mind showing me over there?” I asked, the itch to create prickling along my fingertips.
The glitter of the bay under the late afternoon sun caught my attention, the sight sparking inspiration like nothing else.
Water had always lured me in, a constant font of creativity flowing when I was near it.
If I could take a canvas down by the bay to paint, I’d be able to tap into that.
“If you want to,” Arielle said. “I think painting’s boring as hell. It’s the sort of stuff I was forced to do as a kid, and since the second I didn’t have to anymore, I haven’t picked up a paintbrush again.”
“If it’s not your passion, I understand that,” I said. “Doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate the end result.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Like galleries? Gag.”
I shook my head, even though I didn’t take her dislike personally. She’d stated from the outset we weren’t compatible. “Or just a painting that strikes you. Art can hit people in so many different ways.”
“Maybe if I got drunk enough,” she commented, leading out of the kitchen. She led me through a few different hallways, turns I memorized as I’d be heading to this area the most.
When Arielle stopped outside the open studio door, I strode past her.
The space smelled like paint and turpentine, and I savored the inhale, a hint of familiarity I’d craved.
Unlike Jason’s cozy studio space, this aimed for cool yet functional, and the white walls, the extra lighting on the ceiling, the countless drawers lining the side wall, all suggested this was designed for an artist.
“If you need to romance the canvas or whatever you plan on doing, go ahead,” Arielle said. “I’m going out for dinner and drinks tonight with my friend Sandra.”
My chest twisted at that. Not like I’d expected an invitation, but part of me had hoped Arielle and I would at least find solace in companionship through this. But she seemed to have her own agenda that she didn’t plan to stop just because she was engaged.
“Yeah, I think I’ll work on something in here,” I said, rooting through some of the cabinets.
I tugged out a fresh blank canvas, the sort of pure white that begged for splashes of color.
Already the swirls of water in the glittering bay flashed in my mind.
I found a palette, as well as acrylics and paintbrushes, neatly organized.
“Enjoy,” Arielle called to me, heading for the door.
Her easy dismissal stung a little, but I didn’t fault her.
She had her own life here, and I’d disrupted it, all because our parents deemed our marriage beneficial.
I hadn’t heard what my father got out of the deal, but guaranteed he’d sell out a lot more than me to get a piece of the orichalcum trade Triton possessed.
As her footsteps faded, I set up a canvas on the easel and smeared some paint on the palette, the practice second nature. The motions soothed me, the measured preparation that came before setting color to the canvas.
I dipped the paintbrush into the dark blue, stepped up to the canvas, and placed the first stroke.
Comfort filtered through me like the first sip of hot tea on a winter morning.
The colors burst in my mind, my body taking over as I painted.
The blacks, the darker blues emerged, the splash of red from the ember of fury rising inside me amid the deep sadness.
That I’d been pawned off, that my parents had never truly loved me, that the care I’d been searching for my entire life wouldn’t be found here.
The strokes transformed into oceanic sprays, into wild waves and angry horizons.
Into a truth and wildness boiling inside me that could only be unleashed here.
I surrendered to the feelings rushing through me, pouring onto the page, to the reprieve from the loneliness.
Even if it was temporary.