Reincarnated As The Duke`s Fiancée

he last th

h rain never rushed. It lingered, soaked into brick and bone, seeped into everything until there was no clear line between the cold outside a

ired, uneven hum. It buzzed, dimmed, brightened again, like it might give out before I did. I found myself w

roaned while giving off more noise than warmth. Everything in the room had been acquired second-hand or not at all. A wobbly table rescued from a charity shop. A kettle that cli

ehow became permanent by accident. Places meant for passing through, neve

in shifts and pay cycles, in how many hours it took to earn a meal. Warehouse jobs under fluorescent lights that leached colour from the world and left my thoughts feeling bleached and thin. Deli

ways the next shift, the next bill, the next

poetry in trading hours of your life for the bare minimum needed to keep breathing. No romance in knowing that if you v

the other end of the line. No hand to hold

came, it was a

it crept in quietly, starting as a numb, creeping cold along my left arm before blooming into a heavy, crushing pressure

cooperate. They felt distant. Heavy. My vision fractured, the ceiling light

it, I though

month coffin while the rain kee

e was just cold. A deep, swallowing cold that pulled the sound of the rain away, drowned out

en

e

omething humid and cloying, thick with scent. Lavender, old roses, expensive beeswax. The ki

s flew

ling outward from a central medallion, their edges traced with goldleaf. A massive chandelier hung overhe

nt, I simp

tried t

anchored, as though my limbs belonged to someone else and were only loosely attached. When I pressed m

my hands

ere no

ls shaped neatly and buffed to a soft sheen. The skin was smooth, almost translucent, delicate veins

from my throat, hi

at.

ght, melodic, edged with panic

d. The hem brushed my calves as my bare feet met a plush, handwoven rug that swallowed the sound of my steps. I s

me polished to a dull gleam. When I l

down narrow shoulders. Her face was fine-boned, almost delicate to the point of brittle

Warm. Wide

e, reflecting a fear

y El

came from

her hair pulled back so tightly it drew her features into permanent lines of restraint. Her gaze stayed lowered, posture

e not downstairs for the Duke's arrival in twenty minutes, he will

Elo

Co

Du

o place like a key

otsteps. A childhood spent being corrected rather than comforted. A tutor's ruler rapping sharply against knuckles. Wh

history. This

ouched the vanity, the

beneath a linen coif. She carried nothing in her hands, as though she had forgotte

om in quick, quiet steps. "By the Saints, yo

. "The...

ipped on the wet stones; everyone heard you cry out. We thought...

e sliding into place. A fall. A blow. A body left

tly, surprised to find the

nto a curtsey that was more heartfelt than polished. "I'm Maribel, my lady. I

coming," I said

, lowering her voice. "They're saying the carriage is al

ne. "Are you... are

anded heavier

pp

pent measuring survival in hours and coins. I thought of this fragi

I sm

ly. "It's a good m

it would be so." She reached out before she could stop herself,

nswer, sharp foo

gain, this time w

wed by two others. Their expression

. Her gaze snapped to Maribel. "Yo

y..." Mari

ss of the order made Ma

Maribel looked a

Thank you for your kin

tching, expectant, ready to strike at any sign of disobedi

lt colder w

wed. "Do you think you are

m not clever. I am prepa

in line. "You will learn q

said. "And remember. Th

rnities, filled the room. They had expected fear, tears

ok at me like that, my lady," she said. "Everyone knows what this is. You're a bargaining

nd familiar sti

fe

ge

hunger and exhaustion and being spoken to like I was less than human. It

aining

the mirror. Elowen Ashford, the quiet daughter. The girl who lear

ad been, she was

and caught the

e than a firm grip. But she gasped, eyes

air," I s

e gentle. The

e Count to be disappointed because his

uth fe

ted resistance. C

houghts raced. I didn't understand this world yet. I didn't know its laws or its

on a ledger, then I would make sure he underst

followed her toward the study

for power, what would happen when they realized I

r creak

co drifted out, heavy with a

trust you've practiced your smiles. The Duke of Ravenshollow is..

he silk of my skirts, ho

ge wheels crunc

e had a

seemed t

ath in anticipation and was only now daring to release it. Somewhere beyond the tall windows, voices sharpened. Footsteps multiplied. Order

ting too fast, too loud. The Count, my father, closed his

the kind of man who would sell

were expensive but worn just enough to hint at careful budgeting. The lines on his face were n

stand straight. You will speak only when spoken to. And you will remember that everything you w

ring. Not as a father looks at a child, but

ls would kill for such an arrangement. Secur

d not

nce had taught me that men like him mistook silence

n. "He expects obedience. Discretion. Gratitude."

rp flickered

rras

iliation were not

or. "The carriage is wait

s. Men and women stared down from gilded frames, their expressions stern, detached. Genera

emselves flatter against the walls. Some bowed their heads. Others s

llowed me l

t's

being s

r th

en Ashford's fate was no secret within these walls. She had been spo

rled slowly

nd what I knew instinctively. Part of me wanted to shrink, to lower my gaze, to become

f me, older, h

ted m