Until Death Do Us Part

Chapter 4: Day one in the Palace

Not ten seconds later, a nearby woman appears as if appearing from the shadows. I clutch my torn dress to my chest futily trying to cover myself. She has on a black collar on her neck and her dress is clearly a maids dress. She doesn't say a word, simply hands me clothing and ushers me out of the room into the master bedroom. My eyes strain to see through the hardly lit room. Nervousness erupts all over in the pit of my stomach as I glance at the neatly made bed. I shut my eyes tight as the maid opens a door I didn't know was there to a bathroom. As I step in, she suddenly shuts the door behind me and I quickly turn around feeling very panicky. As I twist the handle the door won't open. I bang on the door, alarm coursing through me. When no one comes to open the door, i remember his words to bathe. Tears pool in my eyes as my heart aches. Is this what living here is going to be like? I hold back a sob and let the last remains of my beautiful dress fall away.

I turn the water on to a scorching hot sniffling. His touch, his alluringly dangerous scent lingers on me. I avoid my gaze in the mirror, and hug myself as the mist from the shower turns the elegant bathroom into a misty fog. I breathe deeply to stop myself from crying out. I shake from the desperate need to cleanse myself of his touch. My eyes feel puffy as I force myself to not shed a single tear. My wrists are a dark purple, and his fingerprints are marked on my skin in deep green hues. I touch my hand to my cheek feeling the sharp sting from when he threw me on the floor earlier. I hug my knees to my chest as I slide down the wall in misery. I grit my teeth and stare at the bruises. The water burns my back, and reminds me of the whips that I am sentenced to. I shudder with phantom pain, and stand up, allowing myself this silent moment of weakness. I wipe my face, and turn the water back to a normal cold, feeling the way my back rejoiced.

I scrub my skin until it burns, and lather unscented shampoo on my head. My chest constricts as I think about the life he stole from me. I would never know the warmth of a lovely home with a husband that would've been surely my promised. I will never be able to see my mother, or my two kind sisters. I worry over my father, who after too many drinks could become reckless and abusive.

My resolve to fight this marriage strengthens, I have a life to get back to, and I am determined to live it without this cold shell of a man I am forced to call my promised. I quickly shut off the shower and dry myself off with the black towel that hangs on the door. I decide to take my time, I would rather avoid another encounter with him.

The warm fog from the bathroom makes it difficult to breathe through my stuffy nose. I quickly wrap my hair around in a towel. And put on the dress the maid gave me. It is a dark blue dress that is modest and feminine. It is a longsleeved dress that covers my neck.My black hair is still wet as I rub the towel to dry it. The door opens with a cold wind startling me and making me shiver.

I jump and turn around to see the same maid and she fixes the collar on my dress. As she reaches out her Long sleeved dress rises and on her wrist are mangled scars. My eyes widen and she notices me staring at those aggressive marks. She offers a small broken smile and covers up her scars. Those are burn marks I realize quickly. I don't say anything and neither does she as she turns me around and put my hair in a fancy updo. Pulling hair pins out of a pocket in her dress I couldn't see. My mind races as I think about the burn marks. How did she get them? I wonder and my stomach tightens.

That could be me... I breathe deeply as she puts light makeup on my cheek that efficiently covers up the small welt rising. I keep my eyes on the ruffles of her dress to avoid looking at her hands. Then she curtsies elegantly and steps away.