'Then the wedding in two days?'

The talk with Giles was a productive one. I invited him for lunch, it's been a while since I ate with anyone other than my maids or Jane. After that we walked around the castle and I had him check and appraise those that he could, at the same time check and account all that was written in the ledger. As I thought, it's not even half of the art pieces in the castle.

For the others that he couldn't, he told me that he'd bring someone with an even keener eyes than his sometime next week. Of course, I wouldn't want it any other way because I imagine myself still hung over the post-wedding celebration. 

I blushed at the thought, so I tapped the back of my hand on my warmed cheeks.

"I will be back next week, Lady Montcroix, then we can finish our talk about the auction." Viola handed him his coat back as we chatted a little next to the towering woman statue at the entrance. "How about this?" He said, visibly interested. "This'd fetch a high price."

"Oh," the cold marble stone was smooth to the touch, "this one feels... at home. I'm quite fond of it." Just the right combination of vulgar, with its lack of clothing; reserved, with the private parts all covered with some cloth—I'd say, I want to meet this sculptor so badly I'd pay a hefty price just to find him. The details on the fabric didn't look like stone at all—and mysterious with her face turned to the side covered by her wavy hair. 

Is she enjoying her state, is she mad, being seductive or maybe feeling humiliated? No one knows. 

Only she and her sculptor knew—no, not even the one who made her knew that's why he, couldn't decide on her facial expression.

"I see. It is a rather beautiful statement piece."

"Maybe your friend would know who made this."

"Maybe. This wasn't one of the family art collections. The former Count was not a fan of... female figures." Well, considering how the castle's filled with unjustified and wrongly perceived men's proof of manliness, this statue right here feels out of place too. It's too feminine, too delicate... too beautiful. "Well, then, Lady Montcroix. Until next time. It's such a pleasure to meet you." The old ma—art collector bowed his head and reached for my hand.

"The pleasure's all mine, Mister Giles," I smiled wider after his lips landed on the back of my hand. "I'm looking forward to more of your stories about art next time. Have a safe trip. I'll tell Alestair that you've gone back. Renald here," I gestured my hand at the entrance where Jane's husband was waiting on the carriage, "will escort you back to Ozryn."

Giles thanked me once more then he was off as I waved at the carriage that soon disappeared in sight.

"Viola, Marie..." there's something I want to clarify as soon as I reached my study. "You're aware that I'm getting married, right?" my two maids looked at each other before they answered yes. "You know I like honest people, right?" I asked again and they nodded. "So, tell me," I leaned towards my table with my hands clasped together and my chin resting on both my thumbs, "... do the other servants know that their master's getting married? Does anyone from Vervin, aside from the two of you, Cosmo, Jane and Alestair knew that I'm getting married to the Count?" 

"Uh..." Viola, being the older one, sounded and looked over to Marie who was already looking back at her, worry stamped on her face. "Well, I think I remember Missus Jane telling us to... keep our mouths shut?"

"Her exact words were 'zip it', my lady." Marie told me straight in the face just like I taught her, but this was not the time for joking or for me to be impressed. 

How is that even possible? How are they keeping this a secret to everybody? Don't tell me that the Count has a regular lady friend visitor that my stay here doesn't even raise an eyebrow!

Wait, now that didn't sit well with me. Matter-of-factly, that placed me in a rather bad mood. This gnawing sense of defeat made me want to storm out the castle and into Leon's guild, slam my hand on his table and demand that he tells the truth about his past relationships, but of course, deep down, I knew that I would never do that.

I have never in my life begged for anyone, especially to a man. I will not prostrate myself just to have things he wouldn't even voluntarily do for me. I'm a firm believer of the fact that if he wanted me to be a part of his affairs and tell me something that happened when I wasn't in the picture then he would. I've had my fair share of hoping and looking forwards to dates and promises. I promised myself I'd be more cautious this time around.

"Then the wedding in two days? How are we going to tell the others that their master has suddenly married the lady he's been neglecting for days now?" I scoffed at the last part then turned to face the hues of the setting sun painted in the sky.

My two maids only shrugged their shoulders saying that's all that they've been told. I sighed for the nth time today and surrendered to waiting for Jane to be free so we can talk about it. Or maybe, as the chapel bells sounded six times, Leon would join me for dinner then I'd have the chance to ask him, and we'll talk about our future plans as a married couple.

That isn't so bad of a plan, right?

***** 

Dinner came and I waited.

Again.

No sign of Leon. This time, I knew better than to mope and sulk like a teenager. By the time I called one of the servants to refill my glass with wine, I ordered her to start dinner. Jane was there, again, to apologize for her master's lack of attention to his bride-to-be—secret bride-to-be—and offered herself to accompany me should I want it. I told the head housekeeper that she may resume her duties and that I'm fine eating on my own.

I might've wanted her to accompany me so she could tell me all the details of this marriage, but she's not the right person for it. The one who needed some explaining to do was the one who wanted me to be his wife in the first place. But what pissed me off the most was the way he acted last night!

Baiting me with his boyish smile and even kissing my palm. The audacity!

"My lady, is everything… alright?" A worried servant came up to me when the silver base of the wine glass hit the table harder than it should be.

She flinched when I threw her a side-eye which I later retracted by smiling and picking up my glass again. "I'd like some more wine, please." I said as I discreetly took a breath.

There's no need to bring these servants in whatever plans your husband-to-be is devising, Isadora Montcroix. They're as clueless as you are. You're just in the same boat.

When I finished dinner, Viola and Marie were waiting for me outside the dining hall as I had instructed them to.

The walk to our bedroom was long and winding. Every step felt heavy and for some reasons, I kept on thinking about him again.

I know I shouldn't compare, and I have talked myself out of this thought a few times in the past few days. I also know that Leon just got back from the war and even though peace has returned to the kingdom, and yet it has been three months since but Leon's still out there everyday sorting out belongings of the dead. Reminding himself of the war every single day.

How is he even doing okay all this time?

Maybe I shouldn't be too hard on him? What if he's hiding some sort of trauma that he got from all the fighting and dying around him for ten years? What if he can't express his emotions well because he's used to hiding it from his men? Maybe I should be more… understanding? But I've been very understanding these past few days!

If I was any other woman I knew from the capital, I would've demanded hundreds of things. I would've insisted that I be given the utmost attention. I might've even cried my eyes out and sent letters to Quinn to get me out of here. If I was one those women I knew from the capital who entered in a loveless, arranged marriage, I would've gotten hold of his money and have already helped myself in all the things nice and shiny there is in this boring island and maybe shop until I drop at Ozryn.

Since I came here, I haven't even spent a single piece of jerah!

So why—understanding of his situation as I am—in the Heavens am I being left here in this gloomy castle without as much as a single note explaining where he's going or what he's doing?

Does he expect me to just… sit here prettily, knit or embroider some flower on a handkerchief, and welcome him home with a big smile?

If that's it, he's picked the wrong woman to marry then.