She took a deep breath and tried to keep her breathing calm. She did not want to put herself in a spiral like she did when her husband died, but deep down she felt as though something was not right, something was wrong in the place she now had to call home.
She went over to bed and sat down but decided not to take any of the lights off, since it gave her a sense of security. It made her feel slightly relaxed, since there was a lingering fear churning deep within her bones; she could almost feel it.
That night, as she lay in bed, it was very difficult for her; she could not sleep, and her entire body felt restless.
Nothing felt right now; everything seemed more confusing to her than they already were. She could not close her eyes, not after the photo. Not after the look in Darian's eyes.
So, she sat on the velvet window seat, knees tucked to her chest, watching the moon drag slowly across the sky. The fire had long since died, leaving only cold shadows to curl at her feet.
Her fingers tightened around something small. Metal. Worn smooth.
The wedding band.
Kael's.
She always kept it with her, even after he was no longer with her and now she was stuck in a world of her family's making, a world which no normal or sane person could survive.
Her fingers traced the wedding band; it still had a tiny scar at the edge where he'd once dropped it on the sidewalk and insisted it had character now. He used to spin it on the counter every time he got nervous, claiming it was his version of a fidget toy.
It had been warm then. Always warm, like his hands. Like his breath at her ear when he would whisper:
"No matter what comes for us… you are mine, my dear flame heart. I will always protect you even if it rips me apart, body, mind and soul."
Her throat clenched as she remembered his words, it echoed in her head, a sick reminder of what she had lost.
It had been two years.
Two years since she had married the only man who had ever made her feel safe.
And now… now she was locked in a house with his opposite, someone she has always loathed, someone she did not even want to be around or breathe the same air as.
Darian was everything Kael was not.
Where Kael was sunlight, Darian was shadows. Where Kael wore his scars with quiet strength, Darian wore his control like a blade.
She had not said goodbye properly.
She never got to.
Because now she was someone else's.
At least… on paper for now, since things were about to get a lot more complicated in her life, she could feel it and all she could do was wait.
Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, but she refused to let them, she could not be weak, not now, even if her heart burned.
Not in his house.
She kissed the ring once, then pressed it to her heart, with her eyes closed, taking in the good memories that came with her late husband.
Then she took a deep breath, slipped it into her pocket and got up to go to bed. She covered herself under the blanket, which provided a good amount of warmth, allowing her to relax more and due to that, she drifted to sleep.
After a long and dreamless night, the morning came like a thief.
She barely noticed the light creeping in. Only the quiet knock on the door stirred her from her sleep.
A staff member's voice came through, silent and overly polite, and gestured for her to follow. She got out of bed, pulled a silk robe on, but did not speak a word. Neither did the woman who came to get her.
The estate was quieter during the day, but no less haunting. She passed old portraits with names she didn't know, doors with locks too heavy for their frames, and floors that gleamed like they had never seen dust.
After a little while, they finally came to the dining room.
A long mahogany table stretched across the room, sunlight spilling through floor-length windows that revealed a mist-covered garden beyond.
Darian sat at the head of the table.
Of course he did.
Immaculate. Sharp suit. Unbothered.
He did not rise. He just looked at her over the rim of his coffee mug.
"You're late," he said smoothly, his gaze fixed on her.
She walked to the opposite end and sat without a word, her gaze fixed on him as well, a battle of wills the servants would call it at that point.
He raised an eyebrow. "Not feeling talkative?"
"Not feeling obedient," she replied, reaching for the coffee pot. "You will get used to it."
A flicker of something passed through his expression when he heard her words.
Amusement? Challenge?
She did not really care; she just wanted him to wonder.
A servant placed breakfast in front of her, eggs, fruit, toast, everything arranged like it was meant for a high-stakes political guest. She picked up a fork, then paused.
His chair was warm. She could tell.
He had been sitting there longer than necessary.
Watching the garden. Or waiting for her, she could not be sure.
"How long were you out there?" she asked, keeping her gaze on her plate.
Darian did not flinch. "Long enough to know you sleep with your hand curled around something you didn't arrive with."
Her gaze snapped to him when he said that. "Excuse me?"
"You dropped the ring last night when you came back to your room, you picked it up quickly. But not before I saw what it was."
"It is none of your business," she said.
"It is now," he replied, simply. "You are my fiancée, like it or not."
She set her fork down, slowly, as his words echoed in her head, like a taunt.
"Say that again," she whispered.
His smile was razor-thin. "I said, you..."
She stood up before he could finish. The chair scraped sharply against the floor.
"If you ever say that again," she said softly, "I will remind you exactly how much I am not and do not want to be."
Their eyes locked. The silence between them wasn't empty; it was coiled.
Then...
"Miss Miran," came a voice from the side of the room.
An older man. Suit pressed, eyes distant. "The Grand Patriarch has sent a notice. You are to be escorted to the Ministry for your vows within the week. Arrangements are already underway."
Miran froze; she knew that was it, the final seal.
A vow that would make the engagement unbreakable.