Liora, who was veiled and silent, sat to his left, her back straight and still. If she was afraid, she did not. Or maybe she had just learned to swallow her fear.
"Lady Liora, kneel before Master Lucien," Edgar commanded.
yet.
There was a moment of hesitation, and a shiver ran through her body as she squeezed her eyes. It was good that the veil hid her face, or everyone present could see her, so minor that only those who were paying close attention would have seen it.
Then, Liora stood, and Mira, who stood next to her, reached out automatically, supporting her as she moved forward onto her knees. Her actions were slow, measured. Under the veil, she could hardly perceive the floor, but it didn't matter. She had no need to look up.
The room seemed to grow colder.
"Lady Liora," Edgar started, his tone calm, "do you swear to obey your master in everything? To be at his beck and call, in duty and in the bedroom, to protect his honor, and to be loyal to him as his concubine?"
The words smacked like a slap, but none of them in the room responded to their impact.
Liora's lips parted slightly, but for a moment, no sound came.
Somewhere in the depths of her mind, a voice echoed, one that did not belong to Edgar.
"I won't accept you."
Lucien's voice. Cold. Unyielding. She remembers the day before very well.
And yet, here she was. Kneeling before him.
She tightened her hands in her lap before forcing herself to breathe.
"I swear it."
Her voice was gentle but firm.
Edgar nodded curtly. The promise was made.
And now it was Lucien's turn. Lucien, throughout the vow, was seated casually on the couch; not once did his eyes drift towards veiled Liora. He was rather amused by the dove woven on the button of his attire. His mind was thinking, but he could not show it, so his face covered a smirk.
Lucien's promises were not the same as per tradition, as he was taking concubines; he could take as many as he wanted, so his vows would be on his conditions. Whereas Liora had been asked to promise her words out loud, his vows were not so. His were conditional, left open by intent. He would not promise to love, nor to cherish, nor even to defend, except as he chose.
Edgar leaned toward him. "Master Lucien, please swear."
There was a silence between them.
Lucien did not stir.
Liora was still on her knees, head down, face hidden by the veil. But Edgar was paying attention. Even though she did not look up, there was a tension in the shoulders, sort of still bracing, as if she were expecting a blow that had not been struck.
Then, finally, Lucien's lips parted.
Slowly, almost indolently, his mouth curled into something that was almost a smile.
"Ah," he said, his voice smooth, remote, "I must do it, mustn't I?"
There was something unnerving about the way he phrased it.
Not a question. Not a denial.
Just… an observation.
Edgar, who was always calm, did not respond. "It is expected, my lord."
Lucien exhaled through his nose, as if amused. He lifted his gaze then, finally looking at the woman before him, though she could see it.
For the first time since he had entered the room, he actually looked at her.
The veil concealed her face, but he could imagine it well enough.
The still tension in her body. The way her hands lay on her lap, so quiet they could have been statues.
Lucien was not unkind.
But he was not about to make this about ease.
His tone was smooth, nearly indulgent smile. "Then let us proceed, as my vows are up to my conditions. I would like to let My Lady know it afterwards, as we have a long night to be together."
Edgar, sensing the subtle change in his voice, faltered for the first time.
Lucien's face never changed, but something dark gleamed in his eyes, something that had nothing to do with the light of the candles.
Nonetheless, Edgar went on, going through the last of the formalities, except one that would be completed by the lord and concubine themselves.
And when at last the ceremony was complete, when the final words had been said and the room let out as one, Lucien stood up from his seat.
He walked away without a second look.
And he was gone.
Leaving behind a woman who had dedicated herself to him.
And a room full of people who knew that the actual war had not even started
Lucien's footfalls had gone a long way off. Even when he departed, the feeling was such as if an invisible presence took its place within the room, an icy presence heavy with bearing.
Beatrice, who had stopped at the door, whispered before she talked. "Everybody, evacuate the room."
The servants and the maids nodded at her in turn, shifting their feet before moving as per her command. They were accustomed to their queen dowager's firm voice, not an argument or an unnecessary utterance.
And among them, Edgar, sent by the stewardess on her behalf, also stood tall in his usual controlled expression. Sharp eyes scrutinizing the young lady on her knees before him, Lady Liora, that concubine sent by a royal command here.
Edgar bowed slightly to her, though it was more out of habit than actual respect. "My lady, I take my leave."
Liora, still on her knees, nodded in return. "You may."
Her voice was low and had no spirit of expression. There was no wavering in her words, no quivering in her voice. She had learned now how things went here: pay respect, get respect. That was all she had to do to survive this place for a while.
Mira, the sole person who had stayed near Liora all evening, stood beside her, her hand still clasped around Liora's in silent comfort. She had been speaking softly to her all night, walking her through the strange customs so she would not stumble. Even now, as the last of the servants departed, Mira stayed near, her presence a small solace in the strange quiet.
But Beatrice had not shifted.
She stood back, arms folded, her piercing eyes darting between Liora and Mira.
The silence hung heavy as she saw the new lady and her maid there, as the maid should have left the place already.
"Ahem.." Then Beatrice cleared her throat.
The sound was not boisterous, but it had weight.
Mira looked at Beatrice, who was tapping her feet and looking at her with her poker face, and that clumsy maid got the signal, and she tensed a little before she turned to Liora, speaking in a hushed tone. "Madam, do not be afraid. All will be well."
Liora hardly had time to absorb the words before she felt Mira's fingers release hers. Feeling the warmth she had become accustomed to was lost.Mira was the only one she had ever felt close to here, and now, even she was departing.Mira paused, as if she wanted to speak again, but then Beatrice cleared her throat once more.
This time, it was keener.
Mira recognized the silent order. She nodded and rushed towards the door, glancing back once at Liora before vanishing behind the thick wooden doors.
The room returned to silence again.
Now, there were only Liora and Beatrice left.
Liora, still covered, still on her knees, moved slightly. The silence was oppressive, bearing down on her like an unseen weight.
She hesitated.
Then, slowly, she lifted her hands, reaching up towards her veil...
Before she could reach it, Beatrice moved towards her ,Fast as lightning, she stepped forward and grasped Liora's wrist, her hold firm but not cruel.
Liora's breath was caught in her throat.
Beatrice's fingers pressed hard enough to keep her from moving.
Then came the words. "Stop."
Liora froze.
Beatrice's eyes fixed on her, her face inscrutable. "Do you not know?"
Liora opened her mouth, but nothing came out of her mouth.
Beatrice sighed softly, shaking her head ever so slightly. "It is an omen for a woman to raise her veil herself. It must be her husband… or her master, in your case."
Her fingers curled inward, retreating from the veil. She had almost made a mistake, one she hadn't even known was a mistake.The veil wasn't just fabric.It was a symbol. A reminder of her task and a chain she was bound by now, and she could not lift it.
Not until her master decided to.
Beatrice observed her intently, her face inscrutable. "You are not a court lady, and yet you were brought here as one. I suppose no one taught you the ways?"
Liora swallowed, her mouth dry. "Madam, I was only told what I needed to know."
Beatrice breathed softly, inclining her head. "Then listen well. Until your husband raises your veil, you are not in this house. You are a shadow, waiting to be noticed. Do not behave as if you are already a wife when you have not even been noticed."
Her fingers lightly curled on her lap, Liora's hands remained resting there. She had nothing to say in return.
Beatrice straightened, smoothing out her sleeves before stepping back. "You will remain in this room until Lord Lucien calls for you. Do not attempt to leave, and do not remove your veil, even in privacy. Your presence here is already precarious. Do not give anyone a reason to make it worse."
Liora felt the meaning behind those words. She knew that her presence was not welcomed.Her presence here was endured, not welcomed.
Beatrice turned, heading towards the door. On her way out, she looked back. "The maid Mira,she is loyal to you?"
Liora paused for a second before inclining her head. "She is the only one I trust."
Beatrice was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Then keep her close. You will need someone on your side in this house."
And with that, she was gone. Beatrice left the room, and the door closed behind her with a soft finality.