A/N:Agh, sorry this took so long. Writers block, getting COVID irl issues and trying to figure out where to take this next made this take longer than usual to come out. I was debating about making this a tad darker themed; still am honestly. No not the R word. Just dark, bleak I suppose. Might make a branching spin off with those ideas. Also, I had most of it written then had to replace/rearrange some things.
So—you might see another chapter soon! Maybe; I might want to try writing the next few in advance so I have a more concrete idea. I usually just go chapter by chapter.
It's a bit sloppy I think, tense changes and such, but I wanted to get it out there so at least people know I'm working on it. Hence WIP: I might go rewrite older chapters after this is all done so it feels more cohesive. But not until it's done I think. Bah, I'm rambling again.
TW for maybe verbal abuse because it's a Rowland chapter. So maybe general abuse that's not physical? Or implied physical abuse might be better? Sorry
Emeline found that the days she spent at her fiancé's estate were nothing short of a nightmare. The man was insistent on her being with him, despite the pains her ankle would bring to her even with the crutches. She was more of a trophy than a guest really, a thing he would bring around to amuse himself.
Of course, the man was sly enough to hide his behavior; saying things like he wanted to show her around the estate and its grounds where she would be spending most of her married life. Her parents saw this as a gesture of goodwill, ignorant or unwilling to see things as they really were.
Thankfully over the coming days, her ankle began to slowly heal. A single saving grace. Though the process was hampered by her fiancé. The man's pace was nothing short of brutal to her hampered state.
It was on one of these days, just a small time after dawn in which she found herself awakened by a rapport at her door. She wearily opened her eyes, still tired from not getting much sleep from the night before. She knew who it was; only one person would wake her at such an hour. Which was why she took her time getting up, a small victory on her part, though part of her knew it would only make things a tad worse.
The knocking at her door only increased in volume, to which she had to sternly call out before he decided to do anything drastic like barge inside.
"Hold a moment, would you? I am getting ready!"
"Hurry then. I wish to take you around the estate today."
She sighed, looking down at her sprained ankle. Sure, it was getting better, the redness and puffiness slowly abating. But it would hardly be called healed. And a long walk probably wouldn't help matters much. But she couldn't exactly say no; he'd just find some other way to spend time alone with her. Or throw a fit that he wasn't getting his way and force her to anyway. So she did her best to get dressed in something comfortable and easy to move in while using the crutches.
It took her a few moments to get to the door, at which he kept insistently knocking. The man was in the process of getting ready to knock again when she finally opened it, his hand raised close to her face to tap at it. He made a good show of looking concerned, though she knew it was all an act. Maybe he did care for her a little but, part of her highly doubted it based on his previous behavior.
"Good, you're finally ready! Now, I have things I wish to show you today. Come; we can't dawdle or we'll miss it." He put an unwanted arm around her shoulder, making her shiver in disgust at the contact, leering at her all the while. It made her want to cry and scream, lash out against him. But she could not, both to preserve the lie for her parents of their love for each other and because that behavior was unfitting to someone who was to become the wife of a noble. She had to keep up appearances here lest she cause trouble for herself.
She nods quietly, unable to do much on her own in her current condition and situation. With an odd smirk, her fiancé leads her away from the halls of their rooms and towards the main floor of the manor. Servants carefully get out of their way, lest they incur their master's wrath, which Emeline had the "pleasure" of witnessing on more than one occasion during her stay. They were berated, yelled at, and sometimes even struck depending on their master's mood and the nature of the offense in question.
Considering the man had hit her before, the person he supposedly "loved", it did not surprise her that he would do the same to what he considered lowly servants.
She could only endure it, walking with him around the grounds of the estate. His pace was tough, at times the man nearly dragging her along with him. It tired her out quickly, and they would often have to stop for breaks. Much to her fiancé's displeasure. At least then she can take a good look at the place, what she is able to see anyway. It makes her heart break, as the estate is a nice place, with plush gardens where she envisioned herself reading with a cup of tea, and rooms upon rooms one could be lost in. She might have found it enchanting even, were it not for the circumstances she found herself in at present.
Unfortunately it is owned by her detestable suitor. The man ruins the experience for her wholeheartedly. After a while of walking, the pair of them come upon an ornate carriage. It's not too different from the one used to ferry her here, though less large and more decorated than the previous one.
"Come now; I still have to show you many of the other things I own!"
He says excitedly, which confuses her. What is supposed to be exciting about his showing off? Maybe it is for him, a way to display his prominence and power, but she couldn't care less. Of course, she cannot say so, lest she incurs his wrath while stuck in a confined space with him for who knows how long—so she once again keeps silent as she nods.
A servant, maybe the driver, helps her up and onto the carriage, Rowland already having gone inside. She does her best to sit away from him, though his hands eventually find her own. She tries not to pry them off, though his hard grip on her hand and wrists would make that difficult. She just looks out the window of the carriage, watching as the blurry scenery goes by.
He calls out to her as they pass certain things, the woman only nodding half heartedly in response. Even as he takes her to see the lands he also owns outside of the estate, places he would oft go to hunt or take walks, she finds she can not enjoy their beauty either. The man taints everything he comes into contact with, from the placid lakes and hills, to the calls of birds and wildlife.
He only sees other things as a way to benefit himself. He could not see their beauty and what they actually were worth. He only knew them as things to be owned and used, not cherished. Much like he does with her, she supposes. Part of her wonders what will become of her once she is married to him. Will she be used, then tossed away for him to find someone else more exploitable? Once she has given him what he wants? Whether that was her beauty or ability to bear him heirs.
Her parents cannot see that; they only care about the land and titles they'll possibly gain access to by her marrying into the family. They had never seen anything of the like either, the two of them had talked often about what they would do if they were nobility.
Which is why she had hated the whole arrangement in the first place! She would have rather become old and be dubbed a crone than forced to marry such a person as he was. Her parents wouldn't have that however, concerned with how their village saw them for some unfathomable reason. Once they had gotten the first invitation of courtship from Rowland almost a year ago, their whole demeanor began to slowly change.
It's not like they were displaced nobles or merchants; they were simple folk and always had been. If the former had been the case, part of her could have at least understood them wanting to 'get back into' that lifestyle. But as it was, their flights of fancy made little sense to her.
She wanted her peaceful life back, where she could just draw, read and write sometimes. Maybe try to cook or even sew a little; though such things are a touch difficult for her. Technically, marrying Rowland would give her some of those things. But she highly doubted she would be able to keep up with her artwork, or reading anything aside from how to be a proper and prim noble lady. Which didn't appeal to her in the slightest.
So here she was, stuck in a place she didn't want to be, with someone she absolutely detested. Half of the nights after a lavish dinner, she would go to her room and ready herself for bed. She could barely sleep, tears falling from her eyes as she contemplated her fate. When she was not able to retreat to her room, usually because of some activity her fiancé or parents had planned, she suffered in silence. Thankfully the time spent with them at night was brief, though the topics discussed made her both worried and curious at the same time.
One such night on one of the very long couple of weeks she stayed here, she had tired of her fiancé's suffocating company, yet was forced to follow him into the room where he often had guests. It was a lavish space—much like the rest of the estate—with a fireplace and sitting chairs decorated in styles that were far too expensive for most folk. She did her best to appear cheerful, a small smile on her face as she sat down on one of the spots. It was plush and soft, much better than the wooden seats they had at home, yet it was uncomfortable for her.
She tried to look at him but found it was difficult to do so. His very countenance made her upset, thinking of the few times they had already interacted today. He had been short with her, as per usual, and barely respected her need for space. Touching and holding her arms and body like she was cattle, not a human being, saying it was a thing couples would do. She had tried her best not to scoff in his face, knowing that what he said was simply an excuse. He just liked putting his hands on her, for whatever reason she couldn't exactly fathom.
After a few moments in which she endured the oppressive silence, the door opened once again. Her parents appeared, also going to sit down opposite her and on the side of her fiancé. Fitting, she supposed. Were they to play another game then? She didn't mind those, even if her suitor had a penchant for sullying his temper when it looked like he was losing. The strategy involved made her lose her thoughts on the present for a while, only focusing on the rules of the game and how best to win it.
When no board or pieces were placed before them, she supposed this was not to be the case. What then, was she called here for? A sinking feeling began to coil in her gut, and not just from the awkwardness of the previous silence before. Her parents only smiled at her, which made her even more uneasy.
"How has this place been treating you? We've noticed you've been going out for a few days now. Your mother and I are finding everything quite agreeable. Sir Rowland has been an excellent host!" It was her father who said this, his tone hinting at something she couldn't quite place. She looked at the older man as she said this, not wanting to have to stare at her fiancé any longer. Besides, it was polite to look in the direction of the person you were conversing with.
"I-it's fine…Sir Rowland has been showing me around the last few days. The grounds and estate are lovely. I hope…that we can stay for a while longer yet." She knew she had to lie, her true answer being one that would get her into much trouble. Truly she wanted nothing to do with this place or this man. The sooner they left here, the better. But something told her that wouldn't be the case. So she pretended to straighten out her skirts, hands working on something in an attempt to calm herself. Lest she lose her temper and speak out what she was really thinking.
"That is wonderful to hear, truly." Her fiancé spoke up next, a horrible smile on his chiseled face. She involuntarily perked up at his words, fear spreading through her for a moment. Why did she not like where this seemed to be going?
"We are all in agreement, it seems. It would be unfortunate if you disliked being here, seeing as this is where you are going to be living from now on." The man continues, the manner of how he said such a statement making her blood run cold. The surprise must have been evident on her face, because her father chimed in once more.
"You and the good Sir here have been engaged for months. He has courted you for a whole year now. We agreed to this arrangement, and having now seen what lifestyle he can provide you with, I believe it is about time for the actual marriage ceremony to take place. Do not tell me you were unaware of this."
"I see…And I was not to be informed about this until now? I would have preferred a little more forewa—" She was cut off from her complaint, her father sighing as his expression became more stern.
"Do not start again with this. The decision is final."
With this, any other rebuttal she had was moot. Her fiancé's smile seemed to have grown at her father's words, the man deciding now to speak up.
"You may leave us now. We have much else to discuss and the night grows late. You had best head off to bed, my dear."
He commanded, his tone sickeningly sweet as he uttered those last words. She suppressed the urge to wince, nodding as politely as she could while getting down off the chair and giving a slight bow.
As she left the room, she could hear them continuing to speak about things like dates and preparations they would need. This only worried her more. She quietly walked down the corridor, not wanting to be discovered snooping, seeing that they had no more need of her at the moment. Which was a touch odd to her, as it was her engagement they were discussing! Retreating to her room, she closed the door before walking to her bed and sitting upon it. This too, was plush and covered in sheets that were far too silken and soft for her comfort. She tried to adjust herself a few times but eventually gave up, sighing as she pondered the events of the last hour or so.
She had her own suspicions and ideas, but could not be too sure. The talk they had this night was certainly making her more nervous than usual. Her parents didn't often ask such things, and having Rowland there whilst doing so was even more odd. Maybe it was to keep up appearances that they cared about who she was engaged to and if she was happy? An act, if ever she knew one.
Rowland and her had been engaged for quite a while now, at least near a year—certainly more time than most couples she knew of. She wondered if it was partly due to the distance between them that it took so long, meetings between them having to be planned much ahead of time for them to get to know each other. She couldn't just marry a man she had never met, after all. At least her parents had been considerate of that much. Tonight had been more or less about finalizing the marriage agreement. The thought made her ill.
It would only be a matter of time before they had everything set and ready to go. She put her hand to her mouth, letting out a quiet noise of frustration. If only there was something she could do; anything at all to delay this!
Her protests would be no good; it's not like her parents or Rowland had listened to her before when she did. Tonight was a prime example of that. They had not bothered heeding her words, ignoring her pleas. Indeed, she would have to be more proactive if she wanted to delay whatever was to come. But how? It's not like she could sabotage the situation.
Not by herself, at least. She knows the servants won't help her, despite their rough treatment by their employer. They are really the only possible allies around that she can turn to. Her new friend is miles away, and he has no idea where she could be. Sure, she had written him a letter, but that was only to assuage any possible fears he may have had. Not to ask for help; though she has a feeling he might try anyway. Which makes her feel a bit guilty for writing it in the first place; she never wanted to get him involved in this! From what little she knows of her altruistic friend, he's probably trying to find some way to figure out where she is even now.
She sighs, rubbing her eyes with her hands. If he is looking for a way to help her, there really isn't anything she can do about it. Besides, she has her own problems to deal with for now. Which seem to be piling up rapidly. She can only hope to come up with a plan later, maybe after scoping out the area more. She's not sure what she can do, with her limited skills, but knows that something is better than doing nothing.
She gets up from the bed, her mind tired and ready to retire from the day. Yet it is also racing, pounding with thoughts and ideas of what may come. She does her best to ignore them, busying herself with trying to find a suitable outfit to wear for bed. Most of these aside from the few she has brought from home, are too stuffy than she would like. She worries about ruining them, choosing an old one that more suits her tastes. Her fiancé might not like that, but it's not like he'll come bother her at this time of night. She does her best to settle down under the covers, though her racing mind makes her toss and turn for quite a while before sleep takes her.
