12. Scarlett

CHAPTER 12

SCARLETT

I try my best not to fidget in the smoothest carriage ride I have ever experienced. My countdown marks have all but faded now, leaving only one pink line down my arm.

In just a few moments, it'll be gone entirely.

And then thirty more are going to take its place.

I try not to let my nerves get the best of me about where they might show up on my body or how much it's going to hurt. After seeing my mother shuffle around her room and smile at me just before I left when she had been bedridden for months, I know this is something I have to do.

It doesn't mean it has to be unenjoyable, I surmise as I wait for my host to engage. He's not sore on the eyes; that's for sure. It's no burden to gaze at his naked forearms as I patiently watch him steal glances at me. He's rolled up his sleeves for his task, and I half wonder if it's just to show off his beautiful physique.

As pretty as he is, I am curious as to what he's preparing. He's currently occupied with opening up a bottle and pouring its contents into a glass. The carriage ride is so smooth that there's no risk of anything falling. He places the bottle into a magically chilled basin before swirling the glass.

Earl Rinhold smiles at me from across the enclosed space and offers me the fizzy drink. "Champagne?" he asks.

Blinking at him a few times, I try to catalog all the social beverages I've heard of and draw a blank. "I can't say I have had the pleasure of trying it," I admit. When encountering something unfamiliar, it's best not to reveal ignorance.

In this case, Earl Rinhold sees right through me. He wouldn't have chosen me as his potential bride without having substantially researched me. If I haven't heard of champagne, it's because it's either too rare or too expensive for me to have tried it.

I know why I'm valuable, and it's not old family wealth. The first thing he asked about was my red hair. Whether or not he knows I'm originally from a village doesn't truly matter. In fact, it might be why he was so interested in me in the first place.

The gene pool when it comes to Elite families has become… slim. The practical thing to do would be to dip into the cultivated selections from the villages. But it's frowned upon to take a bride from that sort of social status. It's not just because such a bride would be reserved for a potential monster match—it's the training.

I've spent the majority of my life learning how to sit exactly as I sit now. My back is slightly arched, my shoulders are rolled back, and I keep my eyelashes low as I size up the Earl.

I know how to speak.

I know how to dance—both literally and figuratively.

I know how to play the game .

His smile grows until his eyes sparkle. "I wouldn't imagine so, Lady Scarlett. Champagne is from the old world, but it's still made in one of the other Elite cities. Or perhaps one of their villages. I didn't ask the details the last time I spoke to my overseas contact."

"Oh," I say. Taking the glass, I inspect the contents just to give myself something to do.

Earl Rinhold just disclosed an entire lump of information I don't quite know what to do with.

While I know that other Elite cities exist, I've never had the opportunity to communicate with one. My family was originally from the Industrial Sector. We had no business with high trade such as working with another city.

But the Rinholds, of course , have contacts everywhere.

The champagne in my hand is just another indicator of Earl Rinhold's wealth and status. I know he's testing me, but I'm not sure what terms will allow me to win. If he's expecting me to be as cultured as he is, I've already lost.

But if he simply wanted a cultured bride, he would have chosen one of the many Ladies who would do anything to become his bride. The Rinholds are one of the families in line for the Immortality Sector any year now.

Deciding to trust my instincts, I place the edge of my glass on my lips. I match Earl Rinhold's gaze as I tip it far enough back to taste the contents.

I can't help it. My eyelashes flutter with appreciation as the fizzy liquid hits my tongue. A subtle splash of flavors lingers in my mouth as I indulge in the taste.

It's a mixture of sweet and bitter, ending with a distinct note of peach that feels slightly out of place. But I figure it's best not to comment on that.

The peach addition might not even be real.

I'm learning the subtle signs of when my night terrors are attempting to come out to play. I clamp them down as best I can because I absolutely cannot handle any nightmare nonsense today.

"Don't let the nightmares control you."

I won't, Mother.

"Delicious," I tell him honestly. I blush when I see his gaze has settled on my lips. He lingers there before glancing up at my eyes again.

"I'm sure it is," he says, giving me one of those too-charming grins again before he peeks out the window of the carriage.

Is he flirting with me again?

I don't know why I'm surprised by the idea of Earl Rinhold flirting with me. But it's more than that. He somehow makes me feel special and desirable.

This feels more like a seduction.

And so what if the most powerful eligible bachelor of the Magic Sector wants to seduce me? Maybe that's not a bad thing.

I'm not sure why the rumors portrayed him in such a horrible light. He doesn't seem at all like the cruel playboy he was painted out to be.

Maybe they're just jealous of his status and ability to buy whatever he wants, like delicious champagne.

And he is very good-looking.

I find myself admiring him as I appreciate his handsome features. He's a little too perfect, but I can spot the flaws that make him human if I search hard enough.

There's a small scar that curls around the edge of his jaw, and I feel the obscene urge to touch it.

I want to feel his humanness, to see that this is a man, not a monster.

Not like the figment haunting my dreams.

"We're here," he says, smirking at me when he catches me staring.

I don't shutter my gaze or look away. Instead, I return his smile with one of my own.

Because I'm excited by the prospect of entering into the Rinhold estate now.

His smile fades the instant I feel it.

Sheer agony.

A scream rips from my throat as invisible knives score down the length of my spine, making me feel like I'm a doll about to be pulled apart so that all the stuffing can fall out.

Another painful, cold slice nicks just above my belly button, making me grasp my stomach. I unfurl my palm, expecting blood to be pooling from my corset, but there's nothing. Only fine lace embroidered with tiny floral designs.

My hand is shaking as Earl Rinhold gently pulls me into his lap, shushing me. A sob catches in my throat as he wraps an arm around me and tugs me close. "I'm sorry. I thought that wouldn't hit until we were inside."

"Wh-what happened?" I ask as my teeth chatter against the echo of agony. It's fading now, but my mind feels like it's taking longer to catch up.

"We crossed the gate. We're within the Rinhold estate now."

My eyes widen. "That activated the contract prematurely?" I had signed the contract well after sundown, and my marks have been slowly vanishing after retiring for the night.

He nods. "Yes. But the terms to begin the courtship have more to do with when you arrive on the estate grounds rather than when the three-day period is up."

I blink at him a few times as I realize that horrible pain I felt was the appearance of my courtship marks. "They're on my spine," I blurt, then feel silly for announcing their location.

He instantly moves his hand away from my back, but it's not necessary. They aren't hurting anymore, just tingling.

The one on my stomach still stings, though. I keep my hand there, and for some reason, I don't want to disclose to him that I have one placed just above my navel.

Perhaps because a certain figment also marked me there?

I trap my lip between my teeth to prevent myself from making a sound.

"Are you well?" he asks quietly. He doesn't move until I answer.

"Yes," I say honestly. "I'm fine." Then my gaze drops, and I notice the blood on his fingers. "Are you hurt?"

He turns over his palm, then chuckles as I gape at the S tattooed onto his skin. "Hmm, look at that. I get a mark, too."

I'm not sure how I feel about that. It isn't customary for the male in the courtship to earn a mark. But it makes it feel more exciting.

Is this really happening?

Earl Rinhold nods, then quietly eases open the door of our carriage, and a pleasant breeze rushes in. There's an entourage waiting for us, even if it's a smaller one than I expected. Today is the Choosing Day fête for the Rinhold residence, after all. My arrival seems to be secondary to that affair.

I notice that neither Duchess nor Duke Rinhold is in the group of servants waiting in a line to greet us. I spot a few handmaidens clutching boxes, as well as a butler holding a long staff horizontally with both hands.

"Welcome home, sir," the butler says as he presents Earl Rinhold with the gilded cane that's engraved with symbols and decorative designs.

Earl Rinhold cleans the blood from his new mark on a handkerchief, then accepts the cane with a polite dip of his chin. "Thank you, Davis." The skilled way he twirls the cane before turning to me has me pensive. I can't help but wonder if he has ever used it as a weapon rather than simply porting the scepter-like staff around as the status symbol that it is.

Giving me a bright smile, he holds out his hand, and something defiant in me prevents me from taking it. I struggle out of the carriage, but at least it's of my own accord.

I'm put off that his parents aren't here, but I don't want to admit as much until I know more.

"I'll escort you to your new quarters, where you can retire before the fête, Lady Scarlett," he finally says when he realizes I have no intention of moving closer to him.

I brush invisible dust from my corset before accepting a parasol from one of the handmaidens who I imagine will be following me around like my shadow. She doesn't match my gaze, making me frown. I befriended Rosie and any other handmaiden who was part of the staff. That's what my mother did, too. Everyone was treated like a human being no matter their station.

It doesn't seem like that's the norm here.

If I'm to become a Duchess, then things will change in the Rinhold household.

The parasol, though, is a bane I must endure. The sun is already setting, but Cain forbid a dusting of sunlight hits a Lady's face. My dialect already slipped a few times in the carriage, so it's best if I don't let all of my flaws as a village-born show.

"Will your parents not be greeting me as well?" I ask the Earl to inform him of the source of my displeasure.

A passing shadow darkens his eyes like clouds in a storm. "I'll speak to them later. I presume they are busy with preparations, but I did ask them to be here."

I force myself to calm my ruffled emotions. I can't rightly be vexed with the Earl for his family's actions, especially if he tried to make me feel welcome.

"Very well," I say, slipping my arm through his.

The tension in his jaw eases with my unsaid forgiveness. As long as he's trying, that's all I ask of my future husband.

Future husband, I muse.

Have I already accepted my role here?

The marks along my back tingle as the Earl strikes up casual conversation, easily making me feel like I belong at his side as his mansion devours me whole.

The interior wealth is astounding, as is the space. Massive halls span in all sorts of directions, sparking my curiosity when I notice more than one reading nook tucked into various corners between statues and finery.

Every now and then, I spot a depiction of Cain, our city's ruler. I can't help but feel like his eyes follow me.

A chill runs up my spine every time we pass one.

It's not a full tour, but the Earl finally leads me upstairs and pauses outside one of the larger bedrooms. I can see as much because the door is open, and the extravagant space inside could fit three of my living quarters at home. There even seem to be two attached rooms, I'm guessing a bathroom and a parlor, from what little I can see from my vantage point.

"My room is just down the hall," he says with a friendly smile, but that news puts me on edge.

"And my handmaiden?" I ask. "Where are her accommodations?"

The Earl seems confused for a moment, then his gaze drops as he smiles. "Ah, you're concerned about your virtue during the courtship." He flicks his blue eyes up to mine. There's a spark of interest there, but I somehow find it charming instead of predatory. "The staff is downstairs and can be summoned by bells. However, know that I will never ask anything of you that you're not comfortable with, Lady Scarlett. I simply meant to keep you close because, should you stay, this will become your permanent chamber." He shifts his cane into his other hand. "I suppose I hoped you would make yourself comfortable within it right away."

My eyes widen. "And at the conclusion of the courtship, should we choose to marry, I would not stay with you?"

His tongue flicks out to wet his lower lip. I can't help but let my gaze drop to follow it. "If you would like, but it's not customary. I should not presume you are interested in my advances, even if you were my wife. I can only come into your chambers upon invitation, you see. That prevents any miscommunication on my part."

While I have been educated on social etiquette and upper-society culture, this doesn't seem customary. At least, the houses in the Industrial Sector did not operate this way.

My mother does have her own room, now, but only after she fell ill and it made sense to separate her and my father. We weren't sure at the time if the illness was contagious. It became apparent that it wasn't. At least, no one else succumbed to the same symptoms.

But this has nothing to do with illness and everything to do with respect.

Do they really respect women this much in the Magic Sector?

Maybe they do, or maybe that treatment is only reserved for the upper class. Regardless, I've already revealed enough of my ignorance to my potential husband, and I have a fête to attend in a few short hours.

I'm already tired, but that's to be expected. I consider myself lucky that my marks don't pain me to tire me further. At least, most of them don't. My hand falls to my stomach because that's the only mark that stings.

Or maybe I'm just imagining the sensation.

"Thank you for the explanation, Earl Rinhold," I say as a means to let him know I'm ready to retire. There are two handmaidens just at the corner, keeping their distance, seeming to be waiting for a signal that they can approach. I give them a nod, and they look at each other, then hurry toward us.

"Edward," he corrects me, making me smile. "You are not my lesser, Lady Scarlett. You are my better in every way. It would honor me if you would use my first name."

A blush overtakes my cheeks, and I wonder where this suitor of mine has been hiding.

Had I known a courtship would be this pleasant, I would have agreed to one sooner.

"Edward," I concede, earning a bright smile from the male across from me.

He straightens and clears his throat. "Very well. I shall leave your handmaidens to attend to you," he says, dipping his chin at them as he retreats.

He keeps his eyes on me when he adds, "I do hope you'll wear the dress I had made for you. If it pleases you, Lady Scarlett. I will have the pleasure of our first dance when the music begins."

I try to read the meaning behind his words as he runs his finger over his new mark in an unconscious effort. It feels like there's a glimmer of a mask for the first time, one I should pay attention to, but the harder I look, the cordial and friendly Earl Rinhold is all I seem to be able to see.

The scratch above my navel twinges with pain, as if trying to tell me something.

Or maybe it's only my apprehensions getting in the way.

"See you soon, Edward," I say, enjoying how my stomach flips when he smiles at me again.

When he leaves and I retreat into my new room with two handmaidens I'm sure are hurrying to peel away my corset, they present to me the most beautiful dress I have ever seen.

Shadows threaten to close in on me as a now familiar rumble echoes throughout the room. Unlike my old accommodations, this one has many wide windows and a balcony that allows me to overlook a massive courtyard.

I glance at the sky, expecting to see storm clouds, but there are only bright bleeding reds of sunset scattered across the horizon.

Turning from the sight, I pick up the dress and smile at it.

Why do I have to fear the nightmares?

Maybe, for once, I can live in a dream.