Lady of House Alba

Escaping an arranged marriage

The sound of the wind hitting the walls and the whistling of the windows had always frightened her since she was a little girl. It had been raining for hours, and apparently, it wouldn't stop. She just wanted the roaring noise of thunder and rain to be gone.

How could she still be afraid of such things at seventeen? It was simply a storm that would soon be over. The daylight was long gone, and a single lamp's dim fire illuminated the room, but nothing out there could hurt her. There was nothing in the darkness that could hurt her.

On nights like this, Elena would have gone to Mama Juana's bedroom and sought comfort in her embrace, to fall asleep peacefully by her side. She covered herself with a blanket and her whole body shook with cold.

Maybe it was a good thing she was exhausted, although her brain insisted she kept her guards up, her body was quickly giving in to the fatigue.

The day before she had made a mistake and scolded Milan for throwing a tantrum, and when her mother found out she punished her by sending her to work with the maids and wash the clothes in the house for a whole week.

If it was a different time of the year Elena wouldn't even blink at a punishment like this, at first it seemed too light compared to the beatings and long hours of kneeling she was used to, but winter had just begun and the cold was getting into her bones. Her hands were still red and sore. In her heart, she wanted to protest and say that this kind of work was too cruel even for the maids.

However, Elena could only bite her cheeks and endure it. She knew very well that the punishment was not only for trying to put a stop to her spoiled younger brother but also for the incident with the Earl of Montenegro. Her mother was suspicious of her, or maybe she already knew what happened. If the latter was true, should she be thankful that the word of it had not reached her father?

In fact, Elena's greatest crime was to have been born a woman, when her father wanted so much a male child. When she was younger, she would not suffer in this way because she had Mama Juana. Even when her father stayed away from the mansion for weeks or her mother ignored her, things would not be so terrible because the old lady of the house, her grandmother, was looking after her and interceding on her behalf.

Despite Milan's birth six years ago, an event that effectively sealed Elena's fate as simply an asset to bargain for power with other noble families, Elena had not felt the sadness that one would expect in such a situation. That was because at least someone in the family loved her. Succeeding her father or gaining his affection would never happen, but she had Mama Juana.

Silent tears escaped her eyes, and the lump in her throat that sometimes kept her from breathing became worse when she was alone. There was nothing good left for her by being part of Earl Valverde's house, not since her grandmother died. Since then, the feeling of being alone in the world multiplied with each passing day.

Well, marrying the Earl of Montenegro would not be better at all, she thought, comforting herself.

Women in Vallas usually married around the age of twenty, but ladies of noble houses like Elena married much earlier, and in her case, being seventeen without settling an engagement, made her an embarrassment to her family.

Elena learned about the real reason behind the Earl of Montenegro's visit thanks to the maids' excited gossip. They were guessing when and where the gentleman would propose to her. Of course, her father wouldn't be so gracious as to inform her that someone intended to ask for her hand in marriage.

From that moment on, she did everything possible to show herself to be the worst possible choice to be his wife, by interfering in the conversations during dinner, spending the whole morning in the stable with the horses, and (perhaps the worst thing she could have done) when the Earl tried to have a conversation with her in the library one morning about the books she was interested in, Elena started a long monologue about Sephira's books.

Sephira's books, about the history of sorcerers and magic on the continent, continued to be hated in Vallas territory despite being part of Raeden's Empire. For centuries since the books were published, they were considered heretical and the people who read them were viewed with suspicion.

The Count of Montenegro left the following day, and although his father had no way to know why the interest in that convenient union disappeared so suddenly, his mother seemed to know that she was guilty.

Mama Juana might have been worried about her actions, but she would not scold her. Certainly, it was Elena's duty as a daughter of the House Valverde to strengthen the power of her family by an alliance; to become the wife of some nobleman was her destiny from the moment she was born. Nevertheless, it was also her father's duty to find a suitable match, someone who would at least treat her with respect.

The Count of Montenegro was ten years older than her, which was a considerable age difference but not uncommon when it came to political pairings. Just a ten-year gap was something to be thankful for. Besides, his looks were decent enough, and he certainly had a good reputation in social circles for his good administration in the last five years since he became the head of his family. And yet, his good points as a possible partner ended there.

"Forcing us to open schools for the peasants now is going too far. I think the Duke has lost his mind. Why would farmers need to learn how to read?"

No wonder he got along well with her father. Someone so insensitive, with such archaic ideas, could never be her husband.

"A lady, of course, has to be firm, gentle, and educated, someone who knows how to run the household. However, I do not agree with these revolutionary lords who let their wives and daughters meddle in political discussions or the administration of the state. What would they know?"

Whenever he said things like this, it was hard to keep the polite smile on her face.

Elena did her homework, so she knew the Count was also known for his numerous affairs within his county and in the capital. She did not want to follow in her mother's footsteps and become a woman who gave more than she received.

After Milan was born, the atmosphere at the mansion had changed for the better, but she remembered her mother throwing vases at the walls, screaming all over the house, or crying in her room when her father left to meet with one of his lovers. Why should she be someone else's submissive and faithful wife, simply the possession of her husband, when he could threaten to get rid of her at any moment?

Even if her father did not appreciate her in the least and her mother treated her coldly, she would rather be the young miss of the House Valverde forever than falling into the hands of a stranger who could squeeze the life and color out of her.

'But soon they will find me another one.'

How was she going to escape a disgusting match?

'Grandma, I miss you.'

After crying for a long time, fatigue finally dragged her into an empty dream, which she could not remember at all by the time she woke up.