Chapter 9: The Silent Vow
After the tense negotiations, Harrow had secured more than he'd hoped for. The Duke had reluctantly agreed to let him marry Veronica, Nightingale herself. But before any formal arrangements were made, Harrow asked for permission to speak to her alone. Duke Gull hesitated, clearly uneasy at the prospect, but ultimately nodded. His trust in Nightingale's powers was strong, and he knew she could handle herself.
Nightangle, on the other hand, was far more apprehensive. Although she had agreed to the meeting, she was fully aware of her advantage. Without a God's Stone of Retaliation, Harrow had no way to nullify her abilities. If things went south, she could easily subdue him. She had no intention of trusting this man blindly.
After the brief lunch, the Duke and his family excused themselves, leaving Harrow to wait for Nightingale on a balcony overlooking the vast Gull estate. The air was cool, and as the minutes turned into hours, Harrow grew increasingly frustrated. First, the Duke had made him wait, and now Nightingale was doing the same. Is this a family tradition? he mused sarcastically, glancing at the horizon as the sun began to lower.
Suddenly, a sharp chill ran down his spine. The feeling of cold steel pressed against his neck from behind, freezing him in place. Nightingale had arrived, and with her, the unmistakable edge of a blade.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to remain calm. His voice, however, betrayed his nerves. "Miss Veronica," he began, his words stumbling at first, "you truly have a remarkable ability. One of the most powerful I've come across. I believe witches' powers are not of the devil. They're a unique gift, unrelated to any dark forces. In fact, I know ways to help you improve your abilities."
There was silence. Harrow took a deep breath and continued, "If you've been using your ability to detect lies, then you know I'm telling the truth. So, please, put down the dagger."
Nightangle remained silent for a moment, her grip on the weapon steady but loosening. She stepped back, releasing the tension in the air as the blade disappeared from Harrow's neck. Her voice was cold, but curious. "How do you know about my ability?" she asked, genuinely surprised. Even her family didn't know the full extent of her powers, and she had never spoken about it to anyone outside the estate.
Harrow smiled slightly, turning to face her. "I know more than I should, more than anyone in this world would expect. There are truths hidden in plain sight, and I've spent my life understanding them. I know your lie-detecting ability, and I know the Church's lies about witches."
Veronica's eyes narrowed as she used her power once more, searching for any hint of deception. Yet again, every word he spoke rang true. She was beginning to feel unnerved by how much this man seemed to know.
"Why are you doing this?" she demanded. "What do you want with me?"
"I want more than just your power," Harrow replied. "I want to create a safe place for witches, a sanctuary where you can live without fear of the Church. I'm gathering witches to help me build a future. And in time, I intend to become king—not just of my town, but of the entire kingdom."
Nightingale was stunned. Every word she tested with her powers was true. Harrow's ambitions weren't just the wild dreams of a delusional noble. He truly believed he could change the world, and from what she could sense, he might just have the means to do it.
There was a long pause before she spoke again. "And what of me? What do you really expect from this marriage?"
Harrow's voice softened. "I expect a partner, someone who will help me achieve these goals. You're not just a witch—I believe you have the strength and intelligence to be at my side in this fight. But more than that, I've admired you for a long time. This is as much about respect as it is about strategy."
Nightingale was silent for a while, contemplating his words. Despite her instincts to run, something about Harrow's unwavering truth made her pause. There was no manipulation, no hidden agenda—just raw, honest ambition.
"I'll agree," she finally said. "But if you ever betray me, I won't hesitate to use my powers against you."
Harrow nodded solemnly. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
---
The Marriage
The marriage itself was a quiet, private affair. There were no grand celebrations, no elaborate displays of wealth or power. Just a simple exchange of vows, witnessed by only a handful of people. Harrow knew this was only the beginning. There would be time for grand gestures later, but for now, the focus was on securing his alliance with Nightingale.
When it was over, Nightingale stood beside him as they prepared to leave for Harrow's Reach. Her eyes were calm, but there was still a wariness behind them. She had agreed to this arrangement, but she would be watching his every move.
Before they left, Duke Gull approached Harrow one last time. "This miraculous medicine of yours," the Duke said quietly, "you've kept it secret. Why?"
Harrow smiled. "Some secrets are better kept, Your Grace. But rest assured, if anyone in your family needs help, I'll be there—for a price, of course."
The Duke grunted, unimpressed, but he nodded in understanding. Money and favors were the currency of power, and Harrow was playing the game well.
---
As Harrow and Nightingale departed the Gull estate, the road ahead stretched long and uncertain. With Nightingale by his side, his plans were finally beginning to take shape. But he knew this was only the first of many steps. His ambitions would demand more alliances, more risks, and the will to change a world still entrenched in fear and ignorance.
For now, though, Harrow smiled. He had taken a major step forward, and with Nightingale at his side, the future seemed just a little bit brighter.
Chapter 9, Part 2: Nightingale's Reflection
Nightingale's Point of View
I am getting married.
Those words echoed hollowly in my mind, but they didn't bring the emotions I once imagined they would. As a child, I was my father's favorite. The Duke cherished me in a way that made even the other noble girls envious. My mother doted on me, making sure I had the best education, the best dresses. While girls like me were often married off for political alliances, I still secretly dreamed of a noble love, of a prince who would sweep me off my feet and ask for my hand in marriage. I thought I had a future filled with love and honor, but everything came crashing down on the night I was eleven years old.
I can still remember it vividly. That sharp, burning pain in my chest. The confusion. The fear. And then, the mist. It surrounded me, enveloped me, becoming part of me. That was the night I became a witch, a devil's minion in the eyes of the Church. It was the worst thing that could happen to a noble girl like me. I was tainted.
I didn't dare tell anyone. I didn't want to be ostracized or burned at the stake. So, I kept my secret. I learned to control my power slowly, always careful not to expose myself. But then, one day, I made a mistake. My brother was about to fall of the terrace so I used my powers to slow his fall. I had to use my powers to save him. I couldn't stand by and watch him die. I thought he would be grateful. I thought he'd understand.
But I was wrong.
The next morning, he told our father that I was a witch. I couldn't believe it. When I confronted him, I'll never forget the coldness in his eyes when he said, "Now I don't have to worry about you taking my place as the next Duke." I had been too blind to see it, but he was afraid. Afraid that our father's love for me would make me his heir. He was willing to throw me to the wolves, to the Church, to secure his place in the family.
I was furious. But what hurt more was how my father reacted. The man who had always protected me, who had shown me nothing but love, turned his back on me. He couldn't look at me, and for almost a year, he said nothing. My mother, who once held me close, started keeping her distance. I was no longer their precious daughter. I was a stain they wanted to scrub away.
And today, I'm getting married.
Not to a prince, not to someone who could make me forget this nightmare. But to Baron Harrow. A man with ambition, but without power,—not the kind of future I ever imagined for myself.
This marriage was the Duke's way of getting rid of me, of severing ties without scandal. "You'll be free from the family now," my mother had said sarcastically on the day of my wedding. "Finally, we can live in peace." Her words cut deeper than any blade.
But it was my brother who dealt the final blow. He handed me a small vial before I left for the wedding. I instinctively knew this vial contained poison,a deadly one. "For you," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "Use it on yourself, or better yet, on your husband."
Those words shattered me completely.
I don't remember the wedding vows. I don't remember the faces of the people who attended. I don't even remember how I got into the carriage that would take me to Harrow's Reach. My mind was numb, my heart an empty shell. This wasn't the life I had imagined. This wasn't how things were supposed to be.
And yet, here I am, on my way to a new life, with a man I barely know. A man who says he wants to protect witches, who claims to understand us. He's different, yes, but I don't know what to do. My father, my brother—they all betrayed me in the end. Why should he be any different? I couldn't even believe my own powers if they weren't betraying me either.
I keep my eyes on the passing landscape, trying to suppress the emotions welling up inside me. But they're too strong. The pain, the betrayal, the loneliness—they haunt me like the mist that surrounds me whenever I use my powers.
Can I trust Harrow? Can I trust anyone anymore?
I glance at the small vial hidden in my sleeve. The weight of it feels heavier than ever.
One way or another, my life has changed forever.
---
Back to Harrow's Perspective
As Harrow sat in the carriage beside Nightingale, he noticed the distance in her eyes. Her expression was unreadable, but he sensed the turmoil within her. He had expected this. Winning over someone like her, someone so scarred by betrayal and isolation, would not be easy.
But Harrow was patient.
He knew that the seeds of trust were already planted in Nightingale's mind, and it was only a matter of time before she would come to see the truth. He wasn't like the others. He wouldn't betray her. He would prove to her that his plans for witches—his plans for the future—were real.
The journey back to Harrow's Reach was long and silent, but Harrow's thoughts were racing. He had succeeded in securing Nightingale as his ally, but the path ahead was still uncertain. The Duke's family might have agreed to this marriage, but Harrow knew there were many eyes on him now. Nobles, the Church—they were watching, waiting for him to slip. Even the Hull ducal family might attack him later to curry favour of the church.
But he wouldn't.
With Nightingale at his side and his knowledge of witches' powers, Harrow was more determined than ever to fulfill his ambitions.
The future was his to shape.