I love you, Damon.

I send out the silent thought, my hands clasped together on my lap. I keep my gaze directed towards the floor, refusing to meet Lady Elizabeth or Roses' gazes. Emmanuel, Richard (Emmanuel's brother) and Master Phillip are in the coach in front of us, to my relief. I could not go through this journey with Emmanuel's beady gaze fixed on me, I could not bear having to pretend to be happy.

The carriage bounces over a pothole and I jolt. Lady Elizabeth glances at me disapprovingly and feeling embarrassment washing over me, I regain my posture.

My thoughts return to Damon.

How could he not come to say goodbye? I had ached to see him one last time before I went. I had stood in the doorway and looked back at my mother's house, running my eyes over each of the windows, hoping for one last glimpse of him. He never showed up - not even his shadow was visible. My heart sinking, I was prodded into the coach and forced to take my seat. I had willed the tears away until all was left was a burning in both my head and my heart. Even my brain feeds on Damon's presence.

"Eloise."

Lady Elizabeth's nasal voice breaks into my thoughts like a plate shattering against the cold ground, shards flying everywhere.

My hand snaps up, "Yes, Lady Elizabeth?"

"It is no longer Lady Elizabeth, Eloise. You now must refer to me as Mother-in-law."

"Yes, Mother-in-law." I reply, obediently, wishing that Damon's mother was still alive and that it was her sitting before me, not the mother of a beast.

"This journey will be long. Do you want to stop for anything before we approach the countryside?"

"No, thank you." I say, my stomach giving a pang in protest.

"No, thank you, what?" Lady Elizabeth raises an eyebrow.

"No, thank you, Mother-in-law." I say in a monotone, lowering my head again.

Lady Elizabeth huffs in triumph and turns away, a small smirk raising on her pinched mouth. I glance at Rose, who has already fallen asleep, her chin touching her chest uncomfortably. Then I turn my gaze back to the window and stare at the passing greenery, everything blurring until I feel my head fall backwards softly...

A sharp pinch on my thigh makes me jump, hitting my head on the top of the coach in the process. I rub the sore spot as Lady Elizabeth glowers.

"Do not embarrass me, Eloise. We are home. Get out of the coach." She snaps.

Aching to be away from her scrutinising gaze, I scrabble out of the coach and the driver lets me down to the ground. Emmanuel walks over to me, snatching my hand up and placing it in the crook of his arm. I fight the urge to snarl at him and let him lead me up the walkway to what I can only describe as a monstrosity of brick and glass.

The house is largely dominated by towers, jutting out of multiple corners. Their pointed roofs raise accusing fingers to the sky, attempting to defy the entity that allowed them to exist. Ivy crawls up the towers, trying to warn them of the terrible mistake they're about to make. Daisies in the ground point back towards the coach, as though trying to drive me away, reminding me of how this is the worst decision my mother has ever made for me. The grass rebels against it's taller friends in a bid to lure me into the family home, a home that will no longer house childhood memories but my cries of desperation and screams for help.

Before I know it, the doors are being opened into a parlour with a large marble staircase in the back, widening as the steps go up. Emmanuel drags me to the seating area arranged in the shape of a square with small ornament tables marking the corners. Workers bustle in, carrying trunks and lugging them up the stairs. I watch them go, my eyes focusing on their muscles bunching up in the midpoint of their shoulder blades. Trunk after trunk passes us.

A man walks past, his brown hair shielding his eyes. His stance reminds me of Damon and my heart lurches into my mouth. I clutch my hands tightly, my knuckles going white. Then his head raises and I meet a pair of grey, defeated eyes. My heart drops back to it's nonexistent haven and my shoulders droop. A finger trails across the back of my shoulders and I shudder.

Emmanuel chuckles.

"Stop it." I say, shrugging his hand away.

"What?" He says. "You're my wife. I have every right to touch you."

"No, you do not." I reply, standing up and walking over to the doors, peeking out. Master Phillip waves at me and proceeds to stride over.

"How was the journey?"

"I don't know." I laugh. "I was asleep for most of it. I woke up literally five minutes ago."

Master Phillip chuckles to himself. "I'm glad to hear it. How is my son acting?"

I roll my eyes. "Not very nice."

Master Phillip smiles sadly, "I am sorry for the behaviour of my family. If only they could think the way I do and see things the way I do..."

I nod silently, choosing to look at the ground and choke back tears once more. You'd think that the well had dried up by now, but it's like my well of tears just keeps on going endlessly. There's a comforting hand on my shoulder and my tear-filled eyes meet Master Phillip's.

He whispers softly, "If there is anything I promise, it is that I will reunite you with your love. I love my son, but he needs to be happy with someone who can be happy with him. He is not a bad person; you just both bring out the worst in each other."

I nod once more, my throat too clogged to let any words out.

"Be brave." Master Phillip says before walking away.

I attempt to compose myself and turn to Emmanuel, who is busy conversing with Rose. His eyes are warm and he laughs, almost seeming... happy. Something I have not seen in his demeanour before. Is it true? Do I bring out the worst in him? If I do, I do not blame him.

Emmanuel's eyes meet mine and his guard shoots back up. He mutters something to Rose and walks away, taking the steps two at a time. Rose looks at me and blinks reassuringly.

After being changed into a silk dress robe, I am informed of a welcoming ball that will be held in the evening. In preparation for it, I am groomed to within an inch of my life. My hair is scraped back and flowers are pinned into it, my face is scrubbed and cheeks rubbed to produce colour in them, my lips are topped with a red colour and my nails are clipped. A pendant is secured around my neck and gloves smother my hands. A corset is tightened around my torso to the point that I feel as though I cannot breathe and a peach gown with a decorative neckline is pulled roughly over my head. My toes are soaked, clipped and then slipped into too-tight heels that I numerously fall over in, much to the dismay to the uptight maids who have the job of helping me to my feet once again.

When the time of the ball approaches, the sun is setting, reminding me of my last time with Damon. I take a deep breath, hoping that he's thinking of me, too. Not being able to say goodbye to him makes staying here more temporary than it already is. Maybe that is what Damon had hoped for. I smile wistfully at the thought of him back home, probably helping my mother with trickles of guests come to congratulate my mother, or taking care of Chastity in the stables, comforting her now that I'm gone.

I have never been away from both of them for this long.

It feels strange, empty.

There is a knock on the door and I go over to it, opening it slowly. In the doorway, stands a girl around my age, dressed in a maid's attire. Her cheeks are painted red and she has pretty, elfin features.

"Yes?" I smile politely.

"Excuse me for intruding." She bows her head. "I am Annalette, Mrs Colleton. I am Miss Rose's maid."

I am just about to correct her, but then I remember. I am Mrs Colleton now.

"Please, call me Eloise." I interject. "To what may I have this honour, Annalette?"

Annalette blushes again before replying, "Well, Master Emmanuel wishes to see you and he instructed me to come see if you were ready."

"Tell him I am ready." I reply, clenching my fists with anxiety.

Annalette nods and curtseys before turning to leave. I shut the door gently and wander over to the window, looking out upon the orchard. I see the occasional man meandering around with basketfuls of fruit, most probably obtained from the various trees and bushes surrounding the orchard. I let out a gust of breath, fogging the window up in the process. Using my finger, I cut a 'D' into the mist, fencing it in, protecting it with a love heart. The door bursts open and I abruptly wipe it away, whirling around to see Emmanuel gazing at me intently.

I swallow, feeling my cheeks burn up.

Emmanuel walks closer to me, then stops five paces away from me. "How could you hide away on our wedding night?"

I do not reply, I just watch him calmly, my fists curling up despite my mind instructing them not to. I guess this has become an involuntary reflex to his presence; the curling of my fists, that is.

"How could you shun the rite of passage like that?!" He rants. "You are one of the most lowliest women I have ever met!! You had no right to do that to me!"

I can't bear this any longer. Despite all of my instincts screaming at me not to, I yell back, "And you had no right to do this to me! I guess we're both even."

Emmanuel's eyes widen and then narrow successively. "You will make this up to me. If it is the last thing you do, you will make your absence up to me tonight."

Fear shocks through me and I shake my head. "No. I will not let you touch me."

An eyebrow is raised and without warning, a vase smashes into the wall beside my head. My heart leaps in fright and my toes curl in my too-tight heels, but I do not move. I do not do anything, even when a shard pelts itself against my arm, grazing the supple skin. I stare at Emmanuel, acting as though nothing has happened. He stares back at me, waiting for me to react - but I will not let him have the pleasure of my reaction. I brush ceramic dust from my shoulder and continue to watch him, pausing only to moisten my mouth with a swipe of my tongue.

Emmanuel quivers with rage and he storms up to me, grabbing my forearms and shaking me. "Listen to me, you peasant. You imbecile! You will love me! He's gone. Damon is gone forever. He is no longer here! You are mine now."

I watch him with empty eyes. Any anger that he could draw from me has already leaked out on the journey here. There is nothing left.

"Talk to me!" Emmanuel demands.

"Your father is a nice man." I reply, gently pushing his arms back down to his side.

Emmanuel's features slacken; he did not expect me to say this, if anything at all. He growls threateningly and then reverts to another tactic with a sneer.

His fingers trail along the inside of my collar, travelling down and proceeding to with my neckline. As he reaches my chest, my heart thuds in protest and my hand shoots up, grabbing his.

"Stop."

Emmanuel's eyes twinkle and he uses his free hand to pull my fingers from the hand he used to touch me. "Why? You are my wife now. I have full right to touch you."

"The time to assert your right has come and gone." I say smugly. "You did not try hard enough, Emmanuel."

He narrows his eyes at me.

Red lights flash. Wrong move from my side. I try to dodge, but I'm too slow. Meet the wood floor with a grunt. Head spins. Hair is yanked. No sound emerges. A fist connects with stomach. Multiple booted kicks. Dress rips. Punch to the temple. See red. Incoherent speech. Blurred vision. Ringing ears. Black spots emerging. Hands around throat. Feeble attempt to struggle. Restricting grip. Legs kick. Arms flail. Darkness captures me...