"However, his brother, Gabriel Fleming, is a decent man. We've discussed it and, to protect your reputation, you'll be marrying Mr. Gabriel Fleming instead."
My smile vanished, my face falling. "What?!"
Before I could protest, Ashley pressed on, "Amy, in a family, we fight for what we want. If we can't win, we'll just add a few concubines for him. Men are easy to handle; you just have to treat them like children."
That was Ashley's philosophy for dealing with life.
I was led into the main hall, where a man stood at the center, strikingly handsome with sharp features that could cut glass.
His eyes were fierce, but there was something captivating about his face that made it hard to look away.
His wedding attire didn't quite fit right, and there were odd stains on his shirt, speckled with red.
As I approached, I noticed no one was watching us. I gently tugged on his sleeve, using my fan to obscure my face, and stood on my tiptoes to lean closer.
"Are you doing this willingly?" I whispered, my heart racing.
Gabriel didn't respond.
Undeterred, I nudged him with my elbow.
"What are my chances of escaping this marriage?"
I rephrased my question, determined to find a way to give him his freedom.
For a moment, I was almost moved to tears by my own thoughtfulness.
Suddenly, Gabriel grasped my arm, almost hoisting me into the carriage. "Do you know I'm in charge of the dungeons? If you try to run, you'll wish you hadn't."
His tone was serious, and I felt a chill run down my spine.
I quickly clamped my mouth shut; I was still young, and I certainly didn't want to meet my end just yet.
I was led into the grand Fleming Manor. The whole process was exhausting—by the time I finally collapsed onto the bed, I felt utterly drained.
With the maid sent away, the room fell into a serene silence.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small pouch, the contents lovingly prepared for me by Megan.
Inside, I found a few of my favorite pastries. As I took a bite of the delicate cake, tears welled up in my eyes.
"Mom promised there'd be some tasty treats on my wedding day," I muttered to myself. "Did the Fleming family seriously think they could starve me?"
It felt almost cruel—like a twisted joke.
After finally managing to swallow a few dry pastries that nearly choked me, I got up and made my way to the table.
The flickering candlelight cast shadows around the room when, suddenly, the door creaked open.