Chapter 22

"How boring", his words seemed to be much heavier than what they seemed. And I could not, for the life of me, understand why.

The only rational thought in my head was that he was hoping to get something on me to play around with. Something that may be innocent but would eventually lead to my demise.

We fell into a silence for the few minutes as fields came into view. Dozens of workers, just like last time, worked while the sun was rising. It was a scene from any noble or rich household, but this home belonged to Angela.

An ease slipped through me at the thought of her safety. She doesn't have to worry about anything now. Not food, clothing, shelter or protection.

The image of her smiling in a field of corn with little blonde angels flashed in my mind. It suited her. I guess he must've thought so too.

I found myself turning to the one responsible for all of those things. His face seemed to have softened at the sight of the fields and I realised it was true.

He loved Angela as a sister.

But just as I confirmed that, I found myself wondering where his hate for me stemmed from and when I recalled the scene I had always found myself regretting I flinched.

Those tear stained red eyes that stared at me in shock. The anguish stricken face that slowly exposed the pain that I had inflicted in it.

My hand that I recall pushing the boy away from me as if he were on fire. As if it was painful to touch him.

He wanted to be consoled. He couldn't sleep at all during the night and kept calling for me under his fathers watchful eyes. Under his fathers threats towards myself and my sister.

And so that night when the boy longed dearly for his mother and summoned me to comfort him. I was stiff. Hoping he'd understand what he was putting me through. But he didn't.

He couldn't understand my conservative attitude and reached for me.

I don't think I was even thinking properly when I pushed him away.

It was that moment.

That moment started the hate.

It wasn't immediate. It was gradual.

The more I rejected him.

The more he told me I would regret it.

Suddenly, I wondered if I hadn't every rejected him or more like, if I hadn't ever had a need to reject him then, maybe he'd also see me as he sees Angela.

"D-Did you love me too?" I didn't realise I had uttered those words until the duke gave me a wide eyed look.

His stunned face stared at me in an almost comedic manner.

I gasped when I realised I had said that, but before I could apologise or think to explain myself the carriage came to a halt and the door was quickly knocked on.

"We've arrived at the farm sir", a servant spoke, his voice crisp enough to distract me from my blunder.

I wasn't the only one who wanted to be distracted however.

"Open the doors", the duke announced. It was as if he couldn't stand staying in the carriage any longer. I couldn't blame him.

When the fresh breeze broke the stifling air between us I took a deep breath. My face finally cooled down as I followed the master to the front door of my sisters house.

It was opened by a friendly old woman, who directed us to a bedroom where my dress and the dukes suit were hanged up in. They were made to match.

The room itself was definitely something that would belong to a lower class noble or even a rich merchant. I felt a swell of pride at the thought of it being Angela's.

The dukes pale yellow suit and my dress. It was almost as if we were a married couple directed to a room we would stay at together.

It was wrong.

I was sure Angela wouldn't have allowed this and was almost positive that the duke had something to do with it. Angela knew I was uncomfortable with this arrangement and despite being an idiot, she had the decency to avoid things like this.

Either way, I wasn't entirely sure what this meant.

I knew the wedding began much later but Angela wanted us dressed immediately since there would be celebrations during the morning and afternoon. In truth, I hadn't the faintest clue on how wedding worked.

"Master-"

"It's Cain". He cut me off in frustration.

"Sorry… Cain, let me help you with your suit", i wasn't sure he could dress himself.

"You do realise we aren't master and servant today?" He raised a brow at me and a strange look was on his face. One that looked like he was playing around with a child.

"Yes, but I don't mind helping you", I wasn't sure what he was getting at.

"I see. An unmarried woman has asked to help me get dressed. An unmarried woman just asked me if she could undress me. I wonder what that means?", he almost sang the words as he unbuttoned his shirt. And a little too loudly might I add.

My face burned in humiliation, but I was adamant.

"But, master you don't really- I'm not exactly"- I fumbled long enough to peak his interest.

"Not exactly what?"

"Well. I'm a slave. It doesn't matter if I'm unmarried because I'll never get married anyway", I heard so many things to say, but these were the least risky ones.

"I see. But wasn't Angela once a slave too?", he was unbuckling his pants so I found myself turning away.

"Yes, but that's different".

"How is that different?" He really did sound so indifferent.

But what could I say? Because you actually like her? Because she got on ur good side? Whereas I'll probably never manage my way there…

I found myself silent as he changed. My mind trying to break down his words.

How is that different?

How. is. that. different?

"Isabelle. Give me a hand with my buttons", at his words I made my to him and began buttoning up his shirt without a thought. It was when I was half way up when I noticed something was different.

The master usually looked up or was busy giving orders when I was doing this, but today, today he stared right down at me. My breath became shaky and as I made my way up I realised things I didn't typically notice about him.

He was tall. Much taller than me.

And his chest was rather wide, I'd even say it was wider than Justin's.

And… he's warm. His body was warm even though it seemed like it would be cold.

When I found myself looking up at him as I reached for the last button I noticed the lack of distance between us. He stared down at me with no regard for it and his haunting gaze that seemed to look right through made me feel a horrible, aching guilt.

I had a part in turning him stone cold… and I never once acknowledged it. I hated him for it at one point too.

I was the real monster.

"I-", I did the last button, "I'm so sorry".