The sun was shining on the gazebo, but still, the chills kept running through my body. I wrapped myself a little tighter in the white shawl, hoping no one would notice how shaky I was. Luckily for me, everyone seemed far more concerned with finishing decorating the white pillars surrounding us and the different trays of food on the table, which saved me from mockery.
It will be quick , I assured myself, just a conversation between Papa and the High Lord, nothing more.
Lady Lerina, my father's wife, commanded the servants with unparalleled attention and authority. Nothing could be unexpected. Everything had to be impeccable for the arrival of the High Lord.
By some twist of fate, her gaze landed on me, as I was leaning against the top of the staircase railing, not bothering to interfere in any way. She frowned, displeased.
"What are you still doing here, Ophelia?" I lowered my gaze to my hands, which still clutched the soft cloth. "Can't you see that Enyla and I are trying to organize things for the High Lord's visit?"
"It's not like you're going to let me forget about it..." I muttered.
She squinted her turquoise eyes. "What was that?"
"I said my father asked for the hydrangeas to be in evidence," I replied, facing her again, "They are the symbol of our family, after all."
Lerina's face was slightly upset, showing her irritation at hearing my words. Her eyebrows drew together so tightly that I wondered if they could merge together and fly off like a dove. It would be a blessing from the Mother herself if that happened.
She approached me, face slightly reddened and nostrils flared with anger. "The Olaris family is not your family. You are nothing but a bastard, you have no right to a surname." Whispered the woman so that only the two of us could hear.
And yet it is the one I carry , I restrained myself before I could voice my thoughts out loud.
I didn't need any more trouble today.
"Of course, my lady. Forgive me for my thoughtless choice of words."
"Remember that you are only here because my husband is a man who honors his responsibilities," She continued, fingers going up to the golden brooch in the neckline of her tulle dress; a habit she had to avoid assaulting me. That is, at least when we weren't alone. "If it were up to me, you'd have died next to your whore of a mother."
I just blinked. There was no more pain in hearing those words, they had been used so many times against me that I felt indifferent to them. Besides, it wasn't as if I could really grieve for my mother; I didn't know her, didn't know her name, nothing — she had only served the purpose of bringing me into the world, nothing more.
No emotional ties connected us.
"Yes, madam. Do I have permission to withdraw now that I have informed you of what has been asked of me?" For the love of the Cauldron, say yes, please say yes.
Lerina looked at me from head to toe once more but gestured to dismiss me, giving the request little importance, and I sighed in relief, bowing slightly before leaving her presence.
I quickly headed for the path that led to the barn, my body already much more relaxed than before. I could hide there until the end of the High Lord's visit; he didn't even know me, so missing me would be impossible. Lerina would certainly love my absence and would make some reason up to keep me as far away from the Lord as possible; Papa, on the other hand, would no doubt scold me after his visitor's departure.
Still, staying in the barn was a safer option. I didn't want to have to be in the same space as all of them together — the perfect family that only reminded me how out of place I was. How unwanted I was. But in particular, I didn't want to have to see her again so soon.
My father's perfect daughter, Lerina's pride and joy, one of the revered priestesses of Prythian — Ianthe .
I was almost following the trail that diverged from the main road when a hand grabbed my wrist, sharp nails sinking into my flesh. I closed my eyes and swallowed the cry of pain. Not now, not now, not when I'm so close .
"Where do you think you're going?" Inquired the voice of my father's youngest daughter.
"I'm going to the barn, Enyla," I answered calmly, "Now will you let me go?"
"And simply allow you to escape from joining us?" She giggled in amusement. She dug her nails even deeper around me and I felt the exact moment when the skin broke. "No way. You're coming with me."
I turned to face her, slightly trembling. Her roundish face, slightly older than mine, carried an expression of cruel pleasure, greenish eyes gleaming with malice. A snake lurking beneath a lady's skin. Enyla knew the reason for my desire to escape from there, for my trembling, for my fear; and she delighted in it.
"No, please..." I begged, my voice no more than a desperate whisper.
"Aw, what is it, Ophelia? Are you going to cry?" She looked at me with false pity, something she was very good at. "I wonder if Ianthe will be happy to hear that you were purposely avoiding her."
"Your mother doesn't want me there, I'm just trying to keep up appearances of how everything used to be for the High Lord..." I stammered, eyes wide and lips dry.
Enyla rolled her eyes. "You know very well that mother cannot go against my father's orders," She emphasized the title of possession, but I didn't care. I couldn't care; I was just the family's bastard. "and besides, how do you expect us to arrange a marriage for you if we don't have the High Lord's help?"
"You mean to sell me!" I replied sheepishly, my nervousness already fading to indignation.
She shrugged.
"It's the same thing. You should be happy that father is still being considerate enough to choose a low-class nobleman over someone from the rabble like you deserve," As she spat the words, I swallowed, aware that she was partly right. Marriages for bastards were always terrible; the opportunity I had was unique. It was one in a million. "now stop whining and come with me, you will serve us this morning instead of the regular servants."
Ah, so there was the reason for my requested presence.
As if leading a dog by the collar, my stepsister gave me a firm yank, taking me with her back down the path I had just wandered down for nothing. I sighed, tightening the white shawl a little tighter. Everything was going to be okay, everything needed to be okay.
The sun was burning over my head, almost as strong as a campfire. Strange, considering that only a few moments ago it didn't seem to help my cold body at all. The shawl was certainly no longer necessary.
The sight of the gazebo made me feel nauseous, and a bad feeling settled in my chest. But it was understandable for me to feel that way; if Ianthe was involved, my agony was guaranteed.
To my surprise, Enyla threw me towards the stairs and I stumbled, managing to catch hold of the wooden banister at the last moment, avoiding a nasty fall. I threw her a deadly glare, but said nothing. I had to keep quiet. Trying to confront her would only make things worse for me — and give her one more reason to join Ianthe in punishing me.
"Don't you dare look at me like that," She warned, approaching me once more. "or I'll rip your eyes out."
Before I could react, the sound of footsteps echoed in our direction. No, not footsteps, trots.
I swallowed dryly and raised my gaze in the direction of the sound, hands sweating cold and trembling again. They were here. Coming up to the white gazebo were two beautiful hay-coloured horses, each with its mane braided differently as if to help distinguish them from each other, and, on top of them, their riders.
Not three, as I assumed, but two. No female silhouette accompanied them.
I frowned in confusion.
Where could Ianthe be? Had something happened to her? I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the thought as I left Enyla at the base of the stairs.
What happened or didn't happen to my sister was not my problem.
Still, as I stepped onto the marble floor and was greeted by my stepmother's dreadful expression, I couldn't help but look back to the way the High Lord was coming with my father. Great Mother, the damned High Lord of this entire court was riding on the Olaris family estate as if it was normal. He looked comfortable like he was on the grounds of his own backyard.
To be fair, the entire Spring Court could indeed be considered part of his backyard.
"What are you still doing here, you useless girl?" Lerina asked me in desperation.
"Father ordered me to serve you this morning, my lady."
Lerina looked as if she was about to explode at that very moment or the usual: simply injure me. However, as soon as her eyes landed on the figures coming towards us, she just clenched her jaw and huffed loudly in frustration.
"Don't mess this up, Ophelia." It wasn't an instruction. It was a threat.
"I won't, madam."
She hurried down the marble steps, trying hard to maintain a gentle, pleasant expression for the High Lord despite the hatred bubbling up inside her.
I walked to the trays filled with food and vases with various types of flowers, stopping beside them with my head bowed and hands behind my body as I had been taught in childhood. I was a bastard. There was no other role for me in that place but to serve.
As soon as the pranks ceased and the conversations started coming, my heart raced in my chest.
My life would be decided that morning.
My life was in the hands of a man I had never seen before.
Without his help, I could never find a socially acceptable marriage, that was true, but I didn't trust him. And how could I? He was likely to be a madman, for Cauldron's sake! It was he who had caused the curse on himself and his court after rejecting Amarantha in the worst way possible, wasn't it?
Sure, the curse had been broken by the human who loved him and now Prythian was at peace, but that had only occurred in the last few moments. What would have happened to the people of these lands if this human had not risked herself?
I definitely did not feel at ease knowing that this man would decide my future with my father.
What if he didn't want to marry me to a low-class nobleman? What if he decided to arrange a marriage for me with an old man whose only property was a small sheep who was also already on the verge of death? Or with an aggressive guard who tried to harm me every time he came home from work?
A shiver ran through my body. Hopefully, the Mother would have mercy on me!
As soon as everyone had taken their seats, I took the tray with the teapot of tea and its accompaniments — biscuits and cakes, each more colorful and delicious than the last, by the way — in my hands and approached the group that continued to chat happily. As I poured the chamomile and mint tea for each one in the deepest silence, I noticed that they were talking about the High Lord's wedding and how close it was.
"How is your fiancée adjusting to her fae life?" My father asked, his slightly harsh but serene voice echoing through the room.
The High Lord sighed.
"She's fine, still needs to get used to the strength and agility of her new body a little bit more though..." Said the male, chuckling slightly afterward. "And I hope it happens quickly or there will be no more glass and porcelain items in my home!"
The whole table laughed, amused at the situation that the future Lady of the Spring Court was in. My stomach churned. That was the payment given to the one who had saved us, no, who had saved them from Amarantha? Who had saved them from prison, flogging, torture and exile, as was the case with my family?
And how wasn't her fiancé ashamed to mock the only person who had been brave enough to stand up to Hybern's tyrant and live (partially) to tell her story?
The woman had been born and died human, and now that she was back as a faerie she had to conform to her abilities in the blink of an eye? How cruel they were.
Ignoring the lingering subject, I made my way over to Enyla, pouring the same amount of tea as usual for her. As I approached the High Lord and his eyes landed on my face, but I didn't look at him, instead I kept my eyes fixed on his white cup as to not spill the tea at the wooden table.
And then, as if understanding the man's confusion as to why there was only one servant that morning, my father spoke up: "Oh, yes, Tamlin, this is Ophelia, my youngest daughter. I apologize for not introducing you to her yet, but with so many things to catch up on and..."
"Youngest?" He turned to my father, his posture quiet, curious. "I thought Enyla was your youngest."
The silence that followed was deafening. I didn't even have to look at my half-sister or stepmother to know their expressions were dripping with coldness; they hated being reminded of the betrayal of the Olaris family patriarch — Lerina for obvious reasons and Enyla for having her attention diverted from her with my birth (even if for tiny seconds).
Finally, my father cleared his throat.
"It was a thoughtless adventure when I was drunk a certain night," He explained. "I ended up getting involved with a Vallahan prostitute and... Well, here's Ophelia."
"You're telling me you had a bastard?" Tamlin laughed. "That's quite surprising, uncle."
"Ophelia, dear," Lerina called, trying to shift the focus to something other than that fateful night. "have some manners! Introduce yourself to the High Lord!"
For the first time, I looked at the male beside me. He was delicately handsome, as one might expect of a Spring Court male; with silky blond hair and eyes as green as the grass in summer. His face was familiar but different; a petal amidst a flower. In a way, he reminded me of Ianthe — which was no surprise at all.
If he was studying me as I was doing to him, he didn't let it show, just kept his expression blank as he continued to stare at me.
I bowed subtly and briefly, head down in respect. "It is a pleasure and an honour to meet you, my lord." And I returned to my initial task of serving him with tea.
"I suppose that's the daughter you want to marry..." He took one of the dumplings from the silver platter, green eyes focused on the man beside him.
Papa took a deep breath as if relieved not to have to go into the subject himself.
"Ianthe told you, then?"
Tamlin shook his head, turning the cherry dumpling from side to side.
"Ianthe commented on it two moons ago, yes..." Looking at me from head to toe as if assessing a map, he narrowed his eyes but said nothing. I bit the inside of my cheek in uneasiness. Finally, he took a bite of the dumplings and nodded. "Well, I suppose it's not impossible to arrange a reasonable marriage, there are many nobles who would want a bond with a family of importance like yours."
"But she is not family..." Murmured Enyla, immediately widened her eyes due to a probable pinch from her mother. "I-I mean, do you already have a suitor in mind?"
My heart stopped beating.
"Actually, there is someone I can recommend her to. He is a distant relative of my Emissary, the poor fellow has been searching for a female since before you left..."
A knot has formed in my throat.
"A relative of Lucien?"
"Yes, one of his mother's cousins to be exact." My hands trembled as I poured the tea into my father's cup. A suitor. I had a suitor. They had barely touched on the subject and practically everything was already set. "He's not so good with the courtship, but he's a good male and he was an important warrior of the Autumn Court during the War..."
I put the teapot on the silver tray, breathing deeply and quietly to calm myself and not show how distressed I was, my white shawl dripping down to my elbows in the process.
"And you believe he will accept?" My father nearly rose from his chair in such excitement. "That he will be able to marry her?"
"He probably will; he is the kind of male who is quick to fulfill his goals. I can send him a letter as soon as I get to Rosehall."
"Do you think it will take long to receive a reply?"
The High Lord shook his head.
"Rest assured, uncle, this problem will be resolved as soon as possible."
I gripped the platter tightly, the sharp edges bruising my palms as I struggled to keep an impassive face.
Problem.
I was a problem .
Hearing it from the mouth of someone other than my half-sisters and Lerina was harsh, to say the least, but hearing it from the High Lord of these lands that were still unknown to me was even worse. My chest tightened painfully. I was a problem my father was itching to get rid of once and for all, and his will was about to come true.
Inhaling deeply, I headed to the wooden vases adorned with flowers and trays filled with delicacies, eyes closed to avoid crying desperately.
I wished Mother could intervene on my behalf and somehow prevent this wedding from taking place. Unfortunately, however, I knew that no one would save me.
It was the end.