As the days unfolded in Lord Malachi's sprawling mansion, the newly christened Elena was trapped in a web of deceit and cruelty. The opulent surroundings masked the sinister reality beneath, and Charlotte, ever-present with an evil glare, made sure that Elena's life became a relentless ordeal.
Charlotte's sadistic pleasure in tormenting the girl knew no bounds. She subjected Elena to menial tasks, taunts, and occasional beatings. Elena's life turned into misery when the teachers appointed for her, looked down on her and started tormenting her even more. The foods provided were stale and cold, yet Elena ate them happily knowing that atleast she was being provided with 3 square meals. Each passing day became a struggle for survival as Elena clung to the flicker of hope that someday she might escape this torment.
The looming wedding with Viscount Reynard Stirling hung over Elena like a dark cloud. She couldn't fathom the depths of despair awaiting her in the hands of a notorious abuser. Isabella, seemingly indifferent to her plight, reveled in the comfort of her luxurious existence, ignorant of the suffering her actions inflicted upon Elena. In the shadows, the young Lord's predatory gaze lingered on Elena, anticipating an opportunity to sate his desires with her tender vulnerability.
Meanwhile, the mansion received frequent visits from doctors attending to Elena's health. To their surprise, they discovered that despite being sixteen, Elena's frail figure resembled that of a much younger child. Her stature was stunted, and her skeletal body had yet to experience menstruation. Concerned, the practitioner advised the Lord to improve Elena's diet before departing the estate.
Two agonizing years passed in misery, leading up to the moment when Elena was to be sent away. A lavish ceremony was organized to mark her coming of age. Simultaneously, the quest to find the missing princess persisted with no breakthroughs. Within the empire, a prevailing sense of resignation permeated, with many believing the princess to be either dead or traded to another realm. Despite the growing despair, a few resilient figures, including the enigmatic Duke Sable, quietly clung to the pursuit of truth.
As the fateful day of Elena's wedding to Viscount Reynard Stirling approached, the atmosphere in Lord Malachi's mansion became charged with tension and apprehension. The opulent halls were adorned with flowers and drapes, masking the true suffering endured by the young bride. Charlotte's malevolent glare remained a constant threat, and Elena moved through the mansion like a ghost, her spirit weighed down by the impending doom.
On the day of the ceremony, the mansion bustled with activity. Servants hurriedly prepared for the grand event, and Isabella reveled in the attention and luxury, seemingly oblivious to Elena's silent cries for help. As the hours passed, the mansion echoed with the haunting melody of wedding music, and the air was thick with anticipation.
In her dimly lit room, Elena donned the elaborate wedding gown forced upon her. The dress, adorned with lace and silk, felt like a suffocating shroud, amplifying the sense of entrapment that clung to her. The distorted reflection in the ornate mirror revealed a hollow-eyed girl, a mere shell of the person she once was.
As Elena struggled to breathe beneath the weight of the dress, someone opened the door forcefully; Adrian stood there intoxicated as his hungry eyes fell on Elena. "M-My lord….w-what are you doing here?" Elena started trembling in fear. Adrian rushed towards her, pinning her against the way, as he sniffed on her skin, "You have grown so much~," he said before kissing her long brown hair and running his hands through her body. Still, fortunately, before he could do anything, Lord Malachi walked in with guards and dragged his son away.
Elena hugged herself, feeling disgusted. Lord Malachi stared down at her before slapping her face hard. "Stay within your place and stop seducing my stupid son." He turned towards the servants, "Fix her makeup." He said before walking out. After some time, a soft knock resonated through the room. Charlotte's sinister presence materialized in the doorway, her eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. "Time to face your destiny, dear Elena," she sneered, relishing the torment she inflicted.
With a swift gesture, Charlotte ushered Elena through the winding corridors of the mansion, each step bringing her closer to the ominous ceremony awaiting her. The grand hall, adorned with flickering candlelight and adorned with flowers, served as the backdrop for the impending tragedy.
The guests gathered in hushed whispers, their eyes fixed on the grand entrance. Elena's footsteps echoed through the hall as she approached the altar where Viscount Reynard Stirling awaited. His gaze, a sinister mixture of desire and entitlement, sent shivers down her spine.
As Elena stood before him, the viscount's cruel eyes roamed over her, dehumanizing her further. The air was thick with an oppressive silence, broken only by the murmurs of the onlookers and the creaking of the old floorboards. The wedding concluded without incident, and shortly after, the bride found herself seated in a lavishly adorned carriage en route to the distant Cedric Dukedom. The journey was expected to span eight days, and hushed murmurs surrounded the bride's fate, with locals speculating that she was being sold by the greedy lord, destined to return to the village in the form of a corpse.
Alone in the carriage, Elena sat in a state of emotional numbness, the weight of her predicament pressing heavily upon her. The elderly Viscount, responsible for this forced union, occupied a separate carriage. In the eerie silence of the carriage, Elena understood that once she arrived at her destination, any hope of escape would be extinguished. The unknown awaited her at Cedric Dukedom, and the looming specter of despair cast a shadow over the entirety of her being.
To be continued.....