Chapter 240 TEIGEN LXIX
They moved quickly, guiding Elara through a side door into a smaller room. It was warmer there, quieter. Rugs softened their steps, and the walls seemed to block out the harsh light from the hall.
Camilla went straight to a cupboard and brought out water, cloths, and a small bowl. She set everything down in front of Elara.
“Lean forward,” she said gently. “Hold still.”
Her hands were steady as she cleaned the blood from Elara’s lips. Elara winced a little but didn’t pull away.
Winnie stood nearby with a tray, holding a cup of warm wine and some bread. Phillipa stayed by the door, watching, her face tight with anger.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Winnie said softly. There was no judgment in her voice, just worry. “He’ll be furious.”
Elara gave a small, tired smile. “He already is. That’s enough.”
She took the cup and drank slowly. The warmth helped, even if only a little. Camilla kept working, dabbing gently at her lips. “It’s going to swell,” she said. “You’ll need to hide it by morning.”
“Hide,” Elara repeated quietly. “That’s not what matters.” She looked down at her hands. “They’ll mark me in other ways tomorrow.”
Phillipa placed a hand on her shoulder. “You won’t be alone,” she said firmly. “We’ll be with you.”
Elara looked up at them, her eyes tired. “What can you really do? There are guards everywhere. Even Augustine had no choice.”
Camilla’s jaw tightened. “Augustine is afraid. She’s lived too long under this roof.” She glanced at the others. “But we’re not the same.”
Winnie nodded quickly. “We’re not. We’ll find a way. We won’t let them treat you like this.”
For a moment, Elara let herself believe them. It felt good not to be alone, even if just for a little while.
Camilla left and came back with the gown.
It was beautiful. Ivory silk, soft and shining, with small silver details stitched into it. It looked perfect. Too perfect.
She laid it carefully on a chair.
“He chose it,” Camilla said quietly. “He wanted white.”
Elara stared at it. If things were different… it could have been something happy. Something she might have worn with a smile.
If Ryker had been there instead. The thought hurt too much.
“Try it on,” Camilla said softly. “Just… see it.”
Elara let out a small, broken laugh. “It’s not a memory. It’s a sentence.”
Still, she reached out and touched the fabric. It was smooth and cool under her fingers.
Phillipa and Winnie stayed close as Camilla helped her change. The dress slipped over her skin, light but heavy at the same time. It fit her, even though she felt thinner, weaker than before.
When it was fully on, Elara looked up.
She barely recognized herself. “You look like a queen,” Phillipa said.
Elara didn’t answer.
Winnie adjusted the hem, frowning slightly. “Lilies,” she murmured. “Of all things.”
Elara turned slowly toward them. Her lip still hurt where she had bitten Sawyer. She touched it lightly and flinched.
She stood there in silence, wrapped in silk, feeling both beautiful and trapped. The room was quiet.
Camilla moved behind her, holding the last fastening. “Say the word,” she said gently.
Elara swallowed. “Do it.”
Camilla fastened the dress. The soft sound felt louder than it should have. Like something was ending.
Elara straightened her back and adjusted the gown herself, making sure it sat properly. Her hands trembled, but she didn’t stop.
Then she stood still. It was done. No one spoke. Phillipa looked like she was holding back tears. Winnie wiped at her eyes.
Camilla kept her hand on Elara’s arm for a moment longer.
Elara stared at her reflection. For just a second, she imagined Ryker beside her. The way he would look at her. The way he would smile.
It hurt more than anything else.
Her lips trembled. “This is what he’ll take tomorrow,” she said quietly. “But it should have been Ryker.”
No one answered.
Elara didn’t sit. She didn’t lie down. She didn’t sleep.
She stayed where she was, standing in the gown, her back straight, her eyes bright with tears she refused to let fall.
A bride, ready for something she never chose.
~
Night settled heavily over the Grand Duke’s manor. Thick clouds covered the moon, leaving the gardens behind the estate dark and quiet.
The wind moved through the hedges, carrying the smell of damp earth and roses. Torches along the paths flickered, their light weak against the restless air.
Sawyer walked through the garden at a steady pace, his boots tapping against the stone. He wore no cloak despite the chill. He cared too much about his appearance to hide the fine embroidery of his dark coat.
The cut on his lip, the one Elara had given him, was still healing. A small mark, but one he hadn’t forgotten.
By the fountain ahead, someone was waiting.
Fowler stood with his hands behind his back, straight and still. His eyes followed Sawyer as he approached.
“You’re late,” Fowler said.
Sawyer gave a small smile. “Late? No. I take my time. I don’t creep around like you.”
Fowler ignored the comment. “This isn’t the night for pride. The house is uneasy. Even the servants are talking. The girl’s behavior has been noticed. It’s making the Duke uncomfortable.”
Sawyer let out a short laugh. “Uncomfortable? Tomorrow fixes everything. His daughter becomes my wife. Her loyalty is proven. He’ll see strength, not trouble.”
Fowler’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t understand him as well as you think. He hides it, but he still cares. When she cursed him earlier, it affected him. That kind of feeling can make things unpredictable.”
Sawyer’s smile faded slightly. “That’s why this plan matters. Once the contract is signed, none of that will matter. She will belong to me. No one will be able to change that.”
The wind picked up, rustling the roses. The sound of the fountain seemed louder in the silence between them.
Fowler stepped closer. “I haven’t forgotten why we’re doing this. The Empire needs stability. The Duke is starting to soften. You… you don’t. That’s why this works. Tomorrow isn’t just about the marriage. It’s about control.”