Chapter 1

Cruel fate

Tristan de Martel had woken up early, as he usually did. He had never required much sleep and he had got plenty of things done before breakfast. Today was the day. His bride would arrive. The thought didn't really affect him much; he had agreed to marry this girl because the alliance with Count de Beaumont was more than beneficial for his family. And as his father kept pointing out, it was time for him to take a wife and have an heir. A son. Hopefully the girl's appearance would be tolerable. Count de Beaumont's delegate had assured that she was a graceful and obedient young lady, a perfect wife. It made no difference to him if she was obedient or not, she would still learn her place soon enough.

"Tristan!" Aurora's voice called when he headed to the dining room.

He turned around and waited for her, she was approaching him across the hallway.

"Good morning, brother," she said smiling and kissed his cheek.

He smiled at her fondly. She was the only person who got to see his caring side, because she was the only one he cared about. His sweet innocent little sister. Tristan had always been overprotective of Aurora, but he didn't see anything wrong in that. She was fragile, delicate, she needed to be protected.

"Good morning," he replied.

"So, are you excited?" Aurora asked.

Tristan raised an eyebrow.

"Excited?"

Aurora seemed amused.

"Yes, brother, excited. You will meet your wife today. If I would be in your place, I would be very nervous, but also excited, I think."

He couldn't help but to smile at her innocence.

"Yes…"

Aurora tilted her head.

"Are you not at least curious to meet her?"

"Of course I am," he replied calmly. "I have been told that she will make a good wife."

Aurora was quiet for a moment before replying.

"Am I going to lose you?" she asked quietly.

"What? Of course not, why would you even think something like that?"

She looked at him shyly.

"I… I just thought… Will you have time for me anymore after you are married…?"

"I will always have time for you, sister," Tristan cut in. "That will never change."

She smiled at him warmly and hugged him. It was true that he had always spoiled his sister, she had got used to getting all his attention. Sure he has had lovers, but they hadn't really meant anything to him. He was known to be cold, cruel and ruthless; no one wanted to be on his bad side. He didn't think that getting married would really change his life much; it was simply a responsibility he needed to fulfill.

"Welcome, my lord," Lucien said and bowed respectfully. "His Grace sent me to escort you to the castle."

The Lord Damien de Beaumont glanced at him coolly; clearly he was just as arrogant as all the noblemen. He was a tall man who had dark hair and piercing grey blue eyes. Everything about him said that he was a harsh man who was used to giving orders. This lord was traveling with the biggest convoy Lucien had ever seen, there were four carriages and at least 50 soldiers escorting him. They had just arrived to Marseille and stopped near the border.

Of course Lucien understood why the convoy was so big; they were escorting the Lord Tristan's bride and her dowry. Lucien already felt sorry for the girl. From the corner of his eye he noticed a young woman who had just got out of the carriage, apparently wanting to stretch her legs. Was this her? His first thought was that she was lovely. Her silky black hair was down and her green eyes looked around curiously. Lucien cleared his throat and continued, explaining to the Lord Damien how far the castle was. He didn't have time to finish when the girl approached them, Lucien bowed at her.

"My lady."

She looked at him and smiled.

"Hello."

"Celine," Lord Damien stated tensely. "Get in the carriage."

"Brother, I was hoping to maybe take a little walk…"

"Get in the carriage," Lord Damien repeated, this time his tone of voice was threatening. "Now."

She turned around and walked back to the carriage without saying a word.

"Lead the way," Lord Damien ordered, he didn't even bother to look at Lucien.

"Yes, my lord," Lucien replied and bowed.

Lord Damien went after the girl who had just climbed back into the carriage. Lucien felt nothing but sympathy for her. Marrying Tristan was a fate he wouldn't have hoped for even his worst enemy.

Celine de Beaumont had been called many things. Stupid. Crazy. Useless. Weak. She was none of those things; at least she didn't think so. Perhaps she wasn't like most people, but she wasn't crazy. She simply saw things other people couldn't see. Her mother, Lady Jacqueline, has had the same gift or curse and she hadn't been able to handle that. Celine's father had shown no understanding to his wife, on the contrary. She could still remember her mother's cries. Her father had been determined to "beat the madness out of her".

Eventually Lady Jacqueline had taken her own life. Celine had been just a small child back then and she hadn't understood to keep her mouth shut. She had certainly learned that after being sent to the convent. The priest had wanted her to confess her sins and beg for forgives. Unfortunately she hadn't understood what she had done wrong. She hadn't understood why they hurt her. The beatings and holding her head under water had been terrible, but not nearly as terrible as "the room". The dark windowless room with nothing in it. Her own personal hell. She had no idea how many days and nights she had spent in that room. It had almost broken her. Maybe now she was going to a new hell. Or maybe not. She hoped not.

"What did I tell you," Damien hissed and grabbed her arm as soon as the carriage was moving. "Keep your mouth shut. Is that too hard to understand? Is it?"

"No, brother," she muttered. "I am sorry."

Celine was aware why Damien despised her so much. He saw their mother in her and it disgusted him. He had considered Lady Jacqueline a weak and useless woman. Their father had certainly taught him well. Celine wasn't weak, she had learned how to adapt, how to keep her true self hidden from everyone. She could handle this, just like she had handled everything else. Despite of what her brother thought, she wasn't stupid, she had listened very carefully his teachings about the court of Marseille.

Maybe she was lacking a lot of social skills after all the years she had spent in the convent, but she doubted that was her biggest problem. Maybe this wouldn't be all bad. She had learned to appreciate every small blessing she got. Not that she considered this marriage a blessing, but it had gotten her out of the convent. Of course it was possible that the place she was going would be even worse. She wasn't foolish enough to expect kindness, but she hoped that her husband wouldn't be as bad as her father. According to Damien, he unfortunately was.