Thomas gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face as the thick wooden planks landed on his back. His shirt was quickly soaked with blood.
I stared at Arabella, my eyes turning to ice. “My lady, your wedding is approaching. It is a joyous occasion. To have blood shed on such a day would
be a terrible omen. It is unlucky.”
I knew how much this marriage meant to her. Because she was not the eldest, legitimate daughter, she felt inferior to Cordelia and was obsessed
with being perfect in every other way.
As I expected, her expression changed. “Fine,” she snapped. “Just sixty lashes. And I never want to see him again.”
By the time they were done, Thomas was a bloody mess, barely clinging to life.
I snuck out to bring him medicine. Autumn was weeping by his bedside. When she saw me, she shoved me away. “Go away!” she screamed, her eyes full of hatred. “It’s all your fault he’s like this! Don’t you ever come near him again! I’m begging you! You’re about to marry the Viscount’s valet
and have a grand future. Leave us alone!”
I stumbled back, my mouth open, but no words came out. I simply placed the vial of ointment on the table. “This was a gift from Lady Arabella,” I
said quietly. “It’s very effective.” Then I left.
Chapter 2
10:05
Back in her chambers, Arabella was still fuming. “I don’t know what’s wrong with Aurora lately, she complained to her senior maid. “She’s lost all
her cleverness. After a scandal like this, how can I face Sterling? He is such a good man. Why is she so ungrateful?
The senior maid hesitated, glancing at a crimson invitation on the table. “My lady… what about the proposal from the Emberlyn family?”
“Hmph. The second son of a minor fifth–rank official? He dares to dream of marrying my mald?” Arabella sneered, picking up the invitation. With a
flick of her wrist, she held it to a candle flame until it was nothing but ash.
It was a proposal from a family of scholar–officials, asking for my hand as the official wife for their second son. I had once saved the family’s elder- ly matriarch. If I had married him, I would have shed my servant status and become a true lady. If he was successful, I could have even earned a noble title. After all, their patriarch was a fourth–rank official, only one step above Arabella’s own father.
“Sterling is the Viscount’s man,” Arabella declared. “He and Aurora are a match made in heaven. No outsider can be allowed to interfere. Send a
messenger to their estate and tell them Aurora is already happily betrothed. And do not let Aurora know of this.”
One day, the Viscount sent over a massive black dog. It was more like a wolf than a dog, powerful and drooling.
