As her eyes drifted downward, she noticed the scars continued on his forearms, barely visible beneath his crisp white shirt. Instinctively, Alice took a step back, breathing heavily. The rumors were now starting to make sense. His temper, his rumored cruelty...
Who is this...beast?
As Alice’s gaze traveled back up, she found his eyes still locked on hers, a smirk playing on his lips that sent a wave of unease coursing through her. It was a look that suggested he was fully aware of the power he wielded – the fear he invoked. It made her skin prickle with discomfort.
Desperation clawed at her throat as she turned her head slightly, scanning the crowd for Patience. Her heart raced, and she silently pleaded for help with her eyes, hoping for a miracle that could save her from the impending doom that was going to be her marriage. But all she saw was Patience’s composed face.
In fact, everyone was so composed, she looked out of place at her own wedding.
As the last words of the ceremony echoed in her mind, Alice felt as if she were floating through a dream, disconnected from the reality unfolding around her. The priest’s voice had become a distant hum. She remained in her head, completely lost in a whirlwind of emotions. Even when her hands trembled as she penned her name beside Victor’s, the significance of the act seemed to elude her. She had utterly thrown in the towel.
Once the ceremony concluded, Alice snapped back to reality, almost as if she had just woken up from a vivid dream. She walked past a line of well-wishers on her way to the reception. She caught sight of the smiles on their faces, but their insincerity was painfully evident. Today, they put on masks of feigned joy, but she knew that beneath their hollow congratulations, many would not wish her fate on their worst enemies. While they always had something to say about her, today, they could only pretend to celebrate her and wish her marital bliss.
Bliss? More like a nightmare.
"My dear, it’s time for the first dance," she said, beaming. "You mustn’t keep him waiting." Alice snapped out of her thoughts, startled by Patience’s sudden voice. She scanned the ballroom, noting that the reception had already started in full swing.
"Mama, have you seen the scars on him?" Alice questioned. "Did he fight in a war?"
"Not that we know of, no, my dear," she answered, pulling Alice by the arm.
"Then how did he get all those scars, Mama?" she questioned. "Aren’t you worried? What if he is a murderer? Or a sick man?"
"No one has been able to prove the rumors, Alice. Stop whining. Put on a smile for your husband and dance. Everyone is watching," Patience said. "Careful not to step on his toes."
"Mama-"
"Stop protesting. It’s done," Patience said. "You look beautiful, my darling. Like a true duchess."
A figure approached them, and Alice didn’t have to turn around to see who was towering over her. When she saw him, Patience curtsied, gave Alice a knowing look, and hurried off, leaving them alone.
"Let’s get this over with, shall we?" she heard Victor say huskily.
Victor’s husky voice rumbled beside her, sending an unexpected warmth down Alice’s spine. She stiffened, her breath catching in her throat as she turned to glance at his outstretched hand. His voice was deeper than she’d imagined. It seemed to hold a certain power, and it stirred something unsettling inside her. She couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
Her gaze flickered to his outstretched hand, and she grimaced at the sight of his scars. Were they marks from battles fought in dark alleyways or worse? The thought chilled her, making her stomach twist. For a brief moment, she wished she coulddisappear into the crowd to avoid the intimidating figure towering over her.
Impatiently, he took her hand into his rough grasp, his fingers enveloping hers with firmness that sent a jolt of unease through her. He led her toward the center of the ballroom, and as the music began to play, he drew her close as she fought against the instinct to pull away. Victor pulled her into the dance, his grip firm yet gentle. She fought the urge to look up at him, afraid of what she might find in his eyes or, worse...what she might feel.
But as they began to move, something changed. His hold, though firm, didn’t hurt her. In fact, it made her feel...safe. She figured it was his build. How tall he was, and how broad his shoulders were.
Her cheeks flushed, the heat rising to her face as she struggled to understand how a man who seemed so dangerous, so beastly in nature, could make her feel so secure. It was unsettling and confusing.
Alice couldn’t count the number of times she had stepped on his foot, but Victor gave no outward sign of irritation, though she felt the tension in his grip tighten just slightly. She had to constantly remind herself to breathe so she didn’t pass out on the dance floor.
As soon as the dance ended, Alice curtsied stiffly and hurried away from Victor’s presence with her heart in her mouth. She barely waited for the final note of the waltz before escaping to the edge of the ballroom, desperate for a moment to breathe.Her body had betrayed her. She had leaned in, engulfed in the safety of his embrace and temporarily forgetting the man she married. Her hands trembled as she made her way to the far wall before and pressed herself against it, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
"Alice," Emma whispered.
Alice opened her eyes to find Emma and Lavinia by her side. She let out a sigh of relief.
"My goodness," Emma continued, grasping her arm gently. "Are you all right?"
"You look so pale," Lavinia added. "Do you want a drink of water?"
"No." Alice shook her head. "I’m afraid I cannot hold anything down. I’m all right."
"Did you see the scars on the man?" Emma said. "He is outright terrifying. He doesn’t even look real."
