Chapter 3: The Battlefield of Marriage

Chapter 3: The Battlefield of Marriage

The towering gates of Valemont Manor loomed before them, their iron bars wrought into intricate patterns that seemed to writhe in the moonlight, casting long, skeletal shadows across the cobblestone path. Seraphina's breath hitched in her throat as the carriage rolled to a halt, the silence within its confines a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside her.

This was to be her new home, her gilded cage. A place of dark stone walls and manicured gardens, where secrets whispered on the wind and danger lurked in every shadow. A place where she would be bound to a man she barely knew, a man whose touch sent shivers down her spine and whose eyes held a depth she could not fathom.

Adrian Valemont. Her husband. Her enemy. Her captor.

He stepped out of the carriage first, his tall frame casting an imposing shadow against the moonlit path. He turned, extending a hand towards her, an invitation veiled in command.

Seraphina hesitated. His touch was a dangerous thing, a spark that ignited a fire within her she could not control. Yet, she could not deny the way her pulse quickened at the sight of his outstretched hand, the subtle flex of muscles beneath the fine fabric of his coat.

With a defiant tilt of her chin, she stepped out of the carriage without accepting his aid, her movements a silent declaration of her refusal to be his possession. A flicker of amusement crossed Adrian's face, a silent acknowledgment of her defiance, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned towards the grand doors of the manor, his voice a low, steady current in the night air.

"Welcome to Valemont, My Lady."

Seraphina followed, her back straight, her head held high. She would not cower before him, not before these walls, not before the secrets that clung to this place like cobwebs. If she was to be caged, she would do so with the dignity of a woman who had once ruled her own world.

The entrance hall was a symphony of grandeur and shadows, the polished marble floors reflecting the dim glow of the chandeliers overhead, their crystals casting fractured rainbows against the dark stone walls. A line of servants stood at attention, their eyes carefully averted, their presence a silent reminder of the power that resided within these walls.

A woman stepped forward, her bearing elegant yet understated. She was older, her dark hair streaked with silver, her eyes sharp and intelligent. "Lady Evernight," she greeted, her voice smooth but firm, "I am Lady Eleanor, the housekeeper. If you require anything, do not hesitate to ask."

Seraphina nodded, though she doubted there was much kindness behind the offer. She was an outsider here, an unwelcome guest forced upon their master. A prisoner in a gilded cage.

Eleanor turned to Adrian, her gaze respectful. "The Duchess's chambers have been prepared, Your Grace."

Adrian gave a curt nod before turning back to Seraphina, his voice laced with a cool dismissal. "You must be tired after your journey. Rest well tonight."

Seraphina's lips twisted into a bitter smile. He was already treating her as an inconvenience, a burden to be borne rather than a wife to be cherished.

"And you, Your Grace?" she challenged, her voice echoing through the silent hall. "Will you not attend to your marital duties?"

A hush fell over the room. Even the servants, trained to be invisible, seemed to stiffen at her words, their eyes darting nervously between her and their master.

Adrian's gaze hardened, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before disappearing behind a mask of cold amusement. "Eager, are you?" he drawled, his voice laced with a sardonic edge.

Seraphina took a deliberate step towards him, her chin held high, her eyes blazing with a defiance that surprised even herself. "Not in the slightest," she retorted, her voice laced with a challenge. "But I would not want my husband to neglect his responsibilities on our wedding night."

Adrian's lips parted slightly, as if taken aback by her boldness. Then, to her surprise, a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Rest assured, wife," he murmured, his voice a dangerous caress, "I am not in the habit of forcing what is not freely given."

The words sent a strange shiver down her spine, a mix of relief and a curious sense of disappointment. She had expected him to be forceful, demanding, but there was something in his restraint that unsettled her more than any aggression could have.

With a final glance that held a promise of battles to come, Adrian turned and strode away, disappearing into the shadows of the manor, leaving Seraphina standing alone in the dimly lit hall.

Lady Eleanor gestured towards the grand staircase, her voice regaining its professional smoothness. "This way, My Lady."

Seraphina hesitated for only a moment, her gaze lingering on the path Adrian had taken, before turning to follow the housekeeper. As she ascended the stairs, her fingers tightened around the folds of her gown, her mind a whirlwind of defiance and uncertainty.

She would play the role of the dutiful wife for now, a pawn in his game of power and secrets. But make no mistake—she had no intention of simply surviving this marriage. She would unravel the truth behind her father's downfall, she would expose the secrets that clung to these walls, and she would claim her freedom, even if it meant destroying the man who held her captive.