We are standing in the familiar square, which is the exact opposite of the bubbling activity I had witnessed during the day.

The stalls are either gone or have been smothered in protective covers, there are no children screaming and laughing, no customers bargaining for items, there are none of the pleasant smells that drove themselves up my nostrils during the day. Even the beggars and the homeless people are cowered in corners, chewing on leftover food they could manage to scrounge, eyeing us warily.

Emmanuel, Richard, Master Phillip and I are standing outside the house with the brown door as a dozen men scour the inside for any signs of human activity. My jaw is locked with anger, my arm bruising under the iron-like grip that Emmanuel is exerting on it and my eyes hurt with the effort of attempting not to glare at Master Phillip.

After everything he had said and done for us, now he chooses to betray us?! He promised so many things, claimed to care so much. What happened to all of that? What urge had possessed him to go and inform Emmanuel of Damon's presence? Not just that, but make up such a vile lie about me?! How could he do that?!

I start to shake with fury and Emmanuel tightens his hold on me, hissing in my ear. "Scared? Scared that they're going to find the man you love?"

"No." I say, my gaze guarded. "I am not afraid because you are not going to find anything. He was not here, I did not come to visit him."

Emmanuel pulls me closer, "And are you pure?"

"I am." I say, refusing to meet his dark eyes, choosing instead to stare at the brown door hanging on its hinges. I can hear the men in there, pullings things apart, grunting, calling to each other.

Emmanuel scoffs in disbelief. I use my fingers to disengage Emmanuel's grip from my arm and calmly say, "I am not going to run anywhere. You were hurting me."

Emmanuel just folds his arms and looks straight ahead. A man walks out of the house, his face masked. He shakes his head and then the rest of the men file out of the house empty-handed. Mentally, I sigh in relief.

Damon's going to be alright.

Emmanuel clenches his jaw and then turns to me. "You got lucky, Eloise. Do not think that this disproves anything! I believe my father and I believe that you are a promiscuous wench! Get in the coach."

Emmanuel shoves me in the direction of the waiting coach. I help myself into the coach, jamming my body right up against the side of the coach, looking out of the window. I sense Emmanuel, Master Phillip and Richard clamber into the coach. Master Phillip sits opposite me, his leg brushing against mine as he sits down.

I look at him sharply. He regards me calmly, his face betraying no emotion. No regret, no apologies, no smugness - nothing. I meet his gaze, glaring, informing him clearly what I think of him and his treacherous betrayal. Rolling my eyes dramatically, I turn back, watching the scenery from my window.

At his home, Emmanuel does not relay the events to his mother. He drags me up the staircase and into a room, one I perceive to be for guests. I have never seen it before.

Emmanuel shoves me on to the ground and points a finger at me. "You will not go without punishment, I promise you that. Go and look out of the window."

"What?" I exclaim, frowning at the man I hate. Yes, hate. I hate him like I have never hated another.

"Go and look out of the window!" Emmanuel yells.

When I do not move, Emmanuel strides over to me, grabbing me by the arms and hauling me into a standing position. He pushes me over to the window, using his hands to press mine against the windows, holding them there, pinning me in with his body.

The window provides a clear view of the stables. It is not fully dark yet, so I can see relatively clearly. I see two figures striding over to the stables and I know who they are immediately.

Master Phillip and Emmanuel's brother, Richard.

They disappear into the stables. There is a moment of tense silence. Then they emerge, dragging Chastity with them. My fists clench and I almost choke on the air I am inhaling.

Chastity is dragged into the middle of the field. She is panicking, neighing and resisting Richard. He just pulls her roughly and shouts something indecipherable. He holds her head in his hands and says something, staring fiercely into her eyes. Chastity snorts in response, her neighing stops but she repeatedly shakes her head, a sign of anxiety. My heart thuds against my ribcage. Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it. Richard starts to back away from Chastity, one hand held up as if ordering her to stay still.

He stands beside Master Phillip, who reaches into his pocket. My hands clench against the window and Emmanuel chuckles darkly.

I can barely breathe as Master Phillip withdraws his hand from his pocket. Silver gleams in the moonlight.

"No!" I whimper, my eyes wide. I press myself against the window, attempting to knock on it but Emmanuel's hold prevents me from doing so. "No, please! Please! No! No!"

Master Phillip aims the gun at my beautiful Chastity, cocking it without an inch of remorse.

"Stop! Stop! Master Phillip, please!" I cry out loud, fighting Emmanuel's grip and banging my fists against the window pane. "Don't hurt her! Please!"

My ears ring, my gut twists, my head spins, my chest aches, a heatwave of panic grips my insides and tears roll down my face as I watch Master Phillip steady his aim, zeroing in on Chastity's stomach.

"NO!" I yell as Master Phillip's hand jerks back. The sound of a shot reaches my ears. I freeze, my mouth a ring of astonishment. The air is filled with the sound of Chastity's agonised cries.

I scream, my voice shrill even to myself. My gut somersaults, a sharp pain digging into my chest, my head aching with a vengeance. The room is spinning. I drag my fingernails down the window pane. "Chastity! Stop! Please! Don't hurt her! Stop hurting her!"

Another shot is fired. My body convulses as though the bullet is hitting me. Chastity's tortured cries pierce my eardrums. I scream again, tears racing down my face, my fists pounding on the window, my heart slamming itself against my chest.

I can't speak, I can only scream, a long, banshee-like wail as Chastity's body shudders from the impact of bullets. Her body is mottled, blood leaking from her wounds. Her eyes roll back into her head as she thumps her head against the ground, begging for mercy. My poor girl... I can barely breathe as Master Phillip walks over to her shivering form. Chastity had fallen to the ground almost immediately after the first shot.

The gun's barrel is pressed against her forehead. Chastity raises her head, looking back, looking up... at me. I can do nothing but stare at her, my scream halted by her gaze. She blinks once. The shot is fired. Her head slumps. Her eyes open, glassy.

I scream again, a blood curdling scream that rocks my body. I press myself against the window, "No! Chastity! Don't die! Please don't die, Chastity! I need you! Please, please, be alive!! I love you! Please, girl, please don't leave me!"

Chastity does not reply. Chastity is dead.

My fists stop pounding against the window, my breath coming out in short, shallow gasps. Master Phillip and Richard retreat out of my sight. I stare at Chastity's still form, expecting her to jump up and toss her beautiful mane any second now. Is she.... She can't be. She cannot leave me. I need her. I need her to live. She is mine. Chastity, my beautiful, beautiful girl...

A hand on my shoulder causes me to whirl around, my eyes blazing with loss and rage.

Emmanuel meets my gaze, "Now, our marriage will be consummated."

He grabs my face in his hands, lowering his head to mine. I push him away with all my force, "You killed her. You killed Chastity. Do you think I am going to let you come near me?"

Emmanuel glares at me. "You dare to give your purity to a servant boy and then object to the consummation of our marriage?!"

"We are not married!" I retort. "Our wedding was a sham, it was not true! I am not your wife, Emmanuel. I never will be. Any inch of civility I was starting to feel for you is gone. You. Killed. Chastity. You killed her - just like that. She's gone. She will never come back. Just because of you and your monstrous actions!"

I breathe heavily, glaring at Emmanuel, my eyes drowning in tears.

Emmanuel snarls at me. "A sham or not, the priest was real, the vows were real - "

"The vows mean nothing." I cut in, curling my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms.

" - and you will consummate our marriage." Emmanuel continues regardless.

I stare at Emmanuel in disbelief. If he has assumed I will obey him, he is wrong. I will never bow down to him, not now, not after what he has done to my beautiful, poor Chastity. I am more determined than ever to make his life a misery.

I back away from him, going over to the dressing table, my eyes never leaving his dominant form.

Emmanuel steps closer to me. "Do not fight me, Eloise. I will not tolerate your antics today. I have waited enough. I am your husband, I should not have even waited! You are mine and you will do as I say."

"Funny. I do not recall being handed to you as property. I have my own mind and I will use it, for you or against you." I rethink my statement and then correct myself. "Mostly against you."

Emmanuel grinds his teeth, clenching his fists at his side. "Eloise. Do not make me beat you. Come here and obey me."

I scoff. "You have to be delusional. You must be, there is no other answer. Do you think I will obey you? Do you think I will do anything you say? You and your mother may punish me however you want, it will not make any difference to me. I would rather rot in that shed than see your face in the morning."

My hands close around the chair behind me.

Emmanuel's eyes widen and then narrow with vehemence. He lunges at me, but I am already prepared for it. I grip the chair and swing it at Emmanuel. It smashes against his side and Emmanuel is thrown to the ground by the impact. I look at the chair in shock. One leg has splintered and completely broken off from the chair.

Groaning and clutching his side, Emmanuel drags himself to his feet. I watch him with unbridled disgust. He roars with rage, lunging at me but I merely duck out of his path, causing him to bounce off the wall and on to the floor again. I cannot help myself, but a small smile lifts the corner of my mouth after seeing the undefeatable Emmanuel crumpled on the ground in a vulnerable heap.

I stand over him, my chest heaving. He looks up at me, his eyes burning and then lowers his head back to the ground again. I feel a sense of pride.

I did this to him.

My pride is soon diminished when Emmanuel's hand curls around my ankle and pulls roughly, causing me to fall backward onto the wooden floor, the chair slipping from my grasp. Before I can register anything, Emmanuel has pounced on me, hovering mere inches above my body. I recoil from him, pushing myself into the unyielding ground.

He lowers his head to mine once more, but thankfully my hands are free. I cover his face with both of my hands, gritting my teeth and pushing him back, further away from me. When he's at a comfortable distance from my face, I pull a hand back and making a fist of my hand, connect it with his cheek bone.

Emmanuel grunts and I use the element of surprise to shove him off me. I jump up to my feet, my sight bathed in a dangerous red. Without knowing what I am doing, my foot connects into Emmanuel's stomach.

He yells.

"That is for Chastity!"

I kick him again.

"That is for my mother!"

I kick him again.

"That is for Damon!"

I kick him again.

He yells.

"And this?"

I kick him.

He yells again.

"This is for me!"

I kick his side again and again, ignoring his pleas for help, my pent-up anger and rage fuelling me, controlling me like somebody possessed.

I do not hear the door open, do not feel the constricting arms of Richard trying to drag me away, do not hear Lady Elizabeth's strangled cries at the sight of her son, do not see Rose clutching her hand to her chest, do not feel Master Phillip shaking me. All I can do is stare at the murderer on the floor, lying in his mothers' arms. All I can do is watch the sight of him fade as I am dragged from the room....

Two months pass when I am locked in that shed. During that time, whenever Emmanuel is absent, I allow myself to grieve. I grieve for the loss of my beautiful Chastity, I grieve for the absence of an ally and most of all, I grieve for the loss of Damon the second time round.

How could fate be so cruel?! How could it unite us just to separate us, then reunite us to repeat the sick cycle all over again?! What sin have we commited that we must repent for it in such a severe way?! With what cause are we being punished?!

The two months spent in mostly isolation change me. All hope that Damon will return flees from my soul. Why would he return? His life is not worth the risk. With thoughts similar to these plaguing my mind and no-one to distract me from them, I suppose it is comes as no surprise that I became a ghost of the girl I once used to be. No longer optimistic, no longer hopeful, just empty. I obey each and every command that Emmanuel makes, but I never let him touch me.

The wounds cut too deep, unaffected by the passing of time.

When Emmanuel announces that my period of punishment is over and my weak legs stumble into the light, it is winter. A thick layer of pure white snow coats the ground, stretching on for miles, the tree branches supporting a light weight of snowflakes. There is no sign of animal or human life, just a silence that sits lightly on the air in a peaceful fashion. The air is bitingly cold, yet relieving from the stuffiness of my jail. My breath streams out visibly in wisps of smoke, dancing in the air, excited to be free of the stale air in the shed.

I cannot fight the urge any longer; I look over in the direction of the stables. Snow smothers the deathbed of my dear Chastity and there is no sign of the vicious acts that were performed upon that wondrous horse who gave her life for me. A tear rolls down my face and I wipe it before Emmanuel can catch sight of me.

"Come on, Eloise. You need a bath; the stench from you is making me gag." Emmanuel leads the way into the house, his feet (like mine) sinking into the deep snow as he walks.

Emmanuel's chamber has not changed. There is no sign of any disarray; everything is where it should be and as it has always been. There is a maid waiting patiently in the corner of the room, by the window.

"Bathe her. Clean her thoroughly so she can be presented to my parents." Emmanuel orders, his voice cold and stony. "Dress her in that gown that my mother entrusted in your possession. She should be ready in no less than thirty minutes."

"Yes, Master." The maid scurries over to me, taking me gently by the arm and leading me to the restroom, closing the door behind us. She strips me of my clothes and lowers me into the bathtub, the water already filled, the hot water a deep contrast to the icy cold outside.

She bathes me. I stare into the distance, my thoughts completely submerged in Damon. I cannot believe I have lost him. We were so close to uniting and now he has left. In one way, I am happy that he has escaped with his life. Emmanuel would not have spared his life; I prefer the fact that Damon is safe and alive. He deserves so much more than me, he deserves somebody who can be his without causing so much trouble for the two of them. He needs somebody... who is not me.

My hair is lathered with the water, my face scrubbed clean of the dirt that is smeared across it, my neck and chest rubbed roughly to cleanse it of the grime, my arms and legs pampered until they are soft and smoothed. I am helped out of the bath and wrapped in a robe. Then, after being dressed in a simple, white dress, my hair is dried and piled on top of my head, my gaunt cheeks are pinched to provide them with some colour, my lips and eyes are coated with make up and my toenails clipped. My feet are slipped into some appropriate footwear and a pearl necklace is ringed around my neck.

"There you go." The maid rests her hands on my shoulders, smiling with pride at her work. "You are ready now, Madam. Let's go. We have five minutes until you are to be presented to your family."

I do not protest to her calling Emmanuel's family mine. I allow myself to be silently dragged down the stairs and into the airy dining room, where Emmanuel is waiting.

He smiles when he sees me, "Perfect. You look presentable now. Come on, Mother and Father are eagerly in wait for you."

Emmanuel holds his arm out and I curl my hand around the crease of his elbow, allowing myself to be led from the dining room and into the parlour.

Lady Elizabeth and Master Phillip are sitting in the wing-backed armchairs, their postures rigid, the room silent. Rose stands beside her husband, who is seated in the chaise. Lady Elizabeth stands as we enter the room, her hands clasped regally.

She must see my broken spirit in my eyes, for she smirks in the most smug of manners and says, "Eloise. How wonderful to see you again!"

It is as though the past two months have never happened.

She coos over me, admiring my necklace and my rosy cheeks. She does not mention how the dress is hanging off of my frail body, or how my collarbone protrudes sharply from my chest. She does not mention the dullness of my eyes or the straight line of my mouth.

Rose hugs me awkwardly, her arms loose around my small body. I do not hug her back; my arms remain at my side. Richard scoffs at the sight of me and Master Phillip looks away uncomfortably. Emmanuel guides me to a chair and I sit in it, keeping my gaze fixed on the ground.

"So, Eloise, how are you?" Lady Elizabeth asks, beaming excitedly.

I look blankly at her. "I am well." I say, my voice rough and hoarse due to unuse.

"How is your health? You are not feeling unwell, are you?" She asks, feigning the emotion of worry.

I shake my head slightly. "No. I am well, Lady Elizabeth."

Lady Elizabeth huffs a little. "Eloise, there is no need to be so formal. I am your mother-in-law. Adress me by my role, sweetheart."

"I am well, Mother-in-law." I say without missing a beat. My face remains emotionless, my mouth set in a poker-straight line, my eyes dull and void of any of the hidden mischief it used to hold.

Master Phillip decided to test the ropes and clears his throat. "I trust you have ate something, Eloise?"

"No, Master Phillip." I say, meeting his anxious gaze with a stony look.

"Eloise, dear, what did I just tell you?" Lady Elizabeth chastises softly, wiggling an index finger at me.

"No, Father-in-law." I correct myself.

"Why not?" Master Phillip asks with astonishment painting his face. "Emmanuel, did you not order food for your wife? Well, seeing as it is time for us to eat, we shall all head to the dining room and engage in a feast. What do you say, Eloise?"

"That would be wonderful, Father-in-law." I reply, my voice monotonous, my face blank, my hands clasped.

Everybody stands and I follow pursuit, following them stiffly into the dining room....