Black Widow

Prologue

  I was seated infront of the great hall, crouched to the ground in an effort to cover up my face so that no one could see the tears running down my face. For the life of me, I could not understand why my grandfather thought it would be a great idea to have me matched up with someone for marriage. I couldn't ignore the fact that I had always known this to be truth since I was young. But that did not change the fact that I still dreaded the day it would actually come when it was my turn to face an arranged marriage. My sister who was already wedded and expecting their second child had tried to talk to me, trying to convince me that it would not be as bad as I was making it out to seem, talking about, "If I can do it, so can you." But they were not seeing things from my perspective.

She had always been social. She was always in the spotlight so she was not afriad of meeting anyone. She has always been the center of attention even without intending to be, that was how pretty she was, that was how much she stood out and she had always loved social gatherings, that was why she could pull off being paired with whoever chose to be her husband. But that was not me. I was not a social butterfly nor was I the prettiest. So it was hard to say that someone was going to pick me. The thing that made this even worse was that I did not have a say on who I wanted to marry. It was all decided by a fight. Not to the death, but until one of the parties surrenders. I sighed. No one was going to want to fight for my hand in marriage. I was the boring sister of the Carlverley family. The no good violent one that doesn't do anything right.

"Why are you seated out here crying when there's a party going on inside?" a male voice asked. I tried to fervently wipe away the tears to not show any weakness. It was not appreciated to show your weakness to strangers. It was frowned upon by the elders especially among the young unmarried ladies as it would lower your chances of getting a fiance.

"I'm not crying," I said softly. Even I knew that was utter bullshit as I spoke the words. My voice was hoarse and it sounded like I had been screeching like a banshee for a whole hour. My face was a mixture of snot, tears, all my failed dreams and the harsh reality I was being forced to face, but I tried desperately to hide it all. I sniffed and looked up slightly just enough to see the shoes of whoever was standing infront of me. My grandmother had always said that you can tell a lot about a man just by looking at his shoes and this one looked like he wiped his ass with a hundred dollar bill.

"Do you mind if I sit?" he asked as he flopped onto the ground next to me before even waiting for my reply. If not for my puffy face, I would have looked at him in disbelief at the fact that he was dead on sitting on the ground like it was a freaking sofa. Just how priviledged was he? "What's your name?" he asked softly as he held out his hand.

"Christabelle Fay Carverley," I said as I turned slightly to look over at him. He seemed to catch my movements as our eyes locked. Gasping, I turned away as I felt my cheeks grow hot. He was really attractive and it was a little hard to believe that a man that attractive would find any sort of interest towards me. I let out a sigh subconsciously.

"Well, I'm Tristan Yates," he said softly. I smiled. The name suited him. "And it's nice to meet you, Christa," he said. "It is okay to call you that, right?" he panicked. I wanted to laugh as a tumble of words came rushing forth with him constantly apologizing. It unintetionally drew out my laughter and I burst out laughing so hard that my ribs hurt. When my laughter died down and I turned to face him, my eyes red from crying and laughing yet still shining with joy, I found him smiling softly with a tender look in his eyes. I turned away as my cheeks burned to a vibrant red again. No one had ever looked at me like that.

The buzzing of my phone broke the awkwardness that was trying to form between us. I bowed my head slightly in apology and then stood up to get the call. Wiping myself down and moving a few feet in front, I recieved the call.

"Where are you?" My mother's voice boomed through the phone and I winced. She was mad. And she would be even angrier if she knew that I had spent some of my time with a man with who's family I did not know. I did not even know if he was one of the contestants for my hand in marriage and yet I had entertained him with laughter and meaningless chatter. Best keep all that to myself.

"I'm outside in the gardens. Did you need anything?" I lied as I hurried around the house with hopes to get there before my mother could. Knowing her, she was already on her way with a vengeance that was only paralled by a tiger. "I"m sorry, mother, I'm in the company of someone, could I please talk to you later if it is not urgent?" I said as I hung up. Picking up the flurry of wasted material that consisted of my dress, I rushed towards the back of the house, jumping over bushes and dodging the scattered patreons across the wide expanse of the yard. Quickly scanning the available people that I could pretend to have a chat with, I spotted a young man, almost my sister's age, give or take, standing alone in the distance. Zeroing in on my target, I charged. As I got closer to him, I realised, I might have miscalculated.