In the Wake of Vows

Morning arrives quietly in Barrowmere, dimmed by the cursed veil enveloping the estate. On her journey from the nearby town where she had spent the night, she noticed that the estate itself was the most affected by the curse. The town isn't entirely free from it, but there are small signs of natural life in the area, as faint as they may be.

Even with the balcony doors shut, Lenore feels the chilled morning air seeping into her room as she takes her first proper look at the estate. She hoped to let light into her room by pulling back the drapes, but the world in which the duke's land existed seems trapped in rotating cycles of dusk and darkness. Nothing lighter.

When she'd heard rumors about Barrowmere and its cursed duke, her mind had conjured only vague image. The idea of a curse had felt distant then—too far removed for her mind to truly grasp. Now, she's in the middle of it.

It doesn't feel frightening the way she thought a curse would, but there's a sadness here, buried deep in the land. A yearning, but she can't tell what it's for.

There's a knock at the door, and Mary steps in with her permission, another maid trailing behind her. "Good morning, my lady. Shall we help you prepare for the day?"

Mary guides her to sit at the vanity while the other maid sets a bundle on the small table in her chambers.

"What's that?" Lenore asks.

The maid, her hands now free, bows to Lenore. "I apologize for the late greeting. My name is Eva, and this is a set of paper, quills, and ink. I was ordered to bring them by Corwin."

"Eva will also be helping me attend to you moving forward." Mary begins with brushing Lenore's long hair, tangled by her nighttime restlessness. "Among a few other maids. Tending to a duchess is more demanding than a single person can handle."

"Then, I'll be in your care." Lenore takes a quick glance at Eva, who politely acknowledges her comment. She seems like the quiet type, but Lenore understands that it's often better to avoid talking around unfamiliar people.

In Rowanhart, it was better to avoid talking at all.

Mary and Eva work efficiently together, and Lenore is presentable in short order. Her schedule requires a lot of movement and handling the small details regarding the wedding, so they prioritized her comfort and mobility. Yet, when she looks in the full-length mirror, she sees the image of a nervous child staring back at her—the girl she was the last time she had to move to a new location without a choice.

She doesn't have time to dwell on those feelings. Eva leads her through the halls to the dining room, and Lenore is wondering about the supplies she was given in the morning and what she might possibly say in a letter to her family, nearly regretting that she added it to her list of requests.

"Will Alaric be at breakfast?" she asks.

"His Grace isn't fond of having breakfast in the dining room," Eva says, glancing back with an apologetic smile. "If you wish to meet with him, you'll need to visit his study today."

"I don't want to bother him if he's busy."

"Well, my lady, part of your schedule today includes meeting with him and the Imperial representative who will help you both draft and finalize the marriage contract."

Lenore steels herself, trying to plan how she'll handle Alaric and the risk that's she may have made a bad impression the night before. After all, she was constantly being scolded in Rowanhart for her lack of elegance. Her poor manners.

I can do this, she thinks. I have to do this.

-:-

The day passes in a blur. Lenore is barely able to eat a few bites of the excessive amount of food served at breakfast before she's being ushered from task to task, rushing to help with the final details of her wedding—the details that couldn't be taken care of without her presence at Barrowmere. Since the journey took longer than expected due to her sickness, they're behind schedule.

She's taken to the dressing room that's now hers—a concept she doesn't have time to process after living with a small closet to use at her uncle's estate and nothing more. It was useless for her uncle to include an old dress of Alina's as a makeshift wedding dress. Instead, she meets Madam Nelle, the best designer in Barrowmere.

Madam Nelle has Lenore's measurements done in no time, winking at her before the maids take her to her next appointment. "I'll make you the prettiest bride in Barrowmere. And I hope you'll enjoy the new wardrobe."

"New wardrobe?"

Her laugh isn't unkind, but there's a level of amusement in it that Lenore isn't used to seeing. "My lady, do you not know that every new bride of Barrowmere needs a new set of clothes befitting her station?"

Before she can reply, Lenore is taken to Alaric's study. Facing the door, she doesn't get the chance to compose herself, Eva knocking and announcing their arrival.

In moments like this, Eva is too efficient, and Lenore is through the door's threshold, directed to take a seat on a plush settee with a coffee table in front of it and another settee on the other side. Across from her sits an unfamiliar man with a brooch of the Imperial symbol pinned to his cravat. The representative, then.

Alaric moves from his desk to sit by her, but keeps his distance. He doesn't bother introducing the representative. "Levent has drafted the contract based on our discussion yesterday. Read through it and confirm you still agree."

Lenore takes the pages. Levent's handwriting is clear and elegant, making it impossible to misread his words. As Alaric said, it's the same as they discussed. In essence, she promises not to cause issues, and he promises protection along with the chance for her to write to her family. It's a rare agreement where she knows exactly what to expect, and she doesn't realize how nervous she's feeling until she signs the contract, the relief of knowing her role sinking in.

After her, Alaric signs the contract. Then, Levent stamps it with a seal and nods. "I'll take it with me back to the emperor once the ceremony has concluded."

Alaric nods, but Lenore says, "Thank you for your work. My name is Lenore, by the way."

Levent stands and bows, his forms tucked neatly under his arm. "A pleasure to meet you, my lady. As you've heard, I'm Levent. Among the Imperial representatives, I'm most often assigned to handle correspondence with Barrowmere, so we'll see each other moving forward."

With that, he leaves. While Lenore admires his professional attitude, she doesn't envy him. His job sounds like it requires a lot of traveling between Barrowmere and the capitol.

"Is this your final task of the day?" Alaric asks.

Lenore glances at Eva, who nods. "It seems so."

She looks out the window and realizes that the dusky hues of day have fallen into the full darkness of night. "Wow. I didn't know it was this late. I can't even remember half of what I did today—it all passed by so quickly."

Though she's mostly speaking to herself, Alaric responds with, "Time will pass slower after the ceremony. You won't have as many tasks to worry about on a normal day."

"When is the ceremony?" Lenore hasn't been told, and since he brought it up first, she feels comfortable asking.

"In three days." Alaric stands up and returns to his desk. "The guests will include vassal families from the area. It's a small affair. I hope you don't mind."

The last bit sounds insincere, like if she actually does mind, he's not planning to change anything. "I understand. May I take my leave, then?"

Alaric doesn't look up from the paper he's writing on. "You don't need my permission to leave."

She follows Eva back to her room, where Mary has already reorganized her belongings and arranged the writing supplies on the table. As tempting as it is to start drafting a letter, Lenore finds that she only has enough strength to flop onto her bed. The stress of the day hits her all at once, and her feet hurt from traveling from place to place in the manor.

"Would you care for a bath, my lady?" Mary asks.

"Please."