She was still looking at the garden when a woman's voice broke the silence.
"So you're the bed warmer."
Alina turned around. A woman stood at the library entrance. She looked around forty, dressed in an expensive green dress. Behind her, her two ladies-in-waiting were also judging Alina with their cold and calculating gazes.
Alina walked forward, put the book on the table and crossed her arms.
"Are you lost, or did you come here just to state the obvious?"
The woman's eyebrows rose, and an unpleasant smile appeared at the corners of her mouth.
"I am Lady Pemberton." She paused, expecting recognition.
Alina didn't respond.
"We've been dying to see you." Lady Pemberton said as she entered the library, her companions following her like shadows.
She circled Alina slowly, examining her from every angle.
"A lot of rumours have been spreading about Duke's new... acquisition." She emphasized on the word. "Very plain, aren't you? The last one was gorgeous. A redhead with a stunning figure. She was absolutely breathtaking."
The last one? Of course, there had been one before. I'm a position, not a person. Just a rotating figure in the Duke's bed.
Alina gave her a fake smile.
"Gorgeous and gone," She replied. "I'm plain but still here. Looks like I'm already doing better."
Lady Pemberton's companions exchanged glances. One of them actually gasped. Lady Pemberton's smile suddenly turned sour.
"You have a sharp tongue for someone in your position."
"My sharp tongue has nothing to do with my position." Alina stepped around her, heading for the door. "It's one of the few things I still have left."
She walked out before she could see her reaction.
Behind her back, her hands were shaking. Her fingers were trembling so badly that she had to clasp them together to make them stop. Her heart was also pounding hard.
But her chin stayed up, her back straight, and she kept walking until she turned a corner and collapsed against the wall, pressing her palms on the cold stone.
The last one was gorgeous.
She had known that men like the Duke of Ravenmoor didn't buy bed warmers because they were lonely. They bought them because they could. Because they wanted variety and one warm body was no different than another in the dark.
But knowing something and hearing it spoken aloud with cruelty were two different things.
"Pull yourself together," She whispered. "You're not here to last. You're here to survive."
She calmed herself and continued walking.
A maid found her minutes later, wandering the corridors without any destination.
"Follow me," The maid whispered. "To your room."
"My room?"
The girl nodded and hurried away, expecting Alina to follow.
She followed her through a dozen corridors she hadn't seen before until they reached a door at the end of a hall. The maid pushed it open, stepped aside, and disappeared before Alina could ask anything.
The room was modest. After the grey dress, the leftovers and the way everyone treated her, Alina had expected a prison but it was much better.
The room had a small bed near a wall, one single window with bars with a garden view, a small fireplace in one corner, a small washroom, a chair with a small table, and a wardrobe with a mirror.
Her trunk was already near the wardrobe. Alina walked to it, knelt, and opened it. Her mother's locket was already around her neck. But the poetry book, the two dresses, and the sewing kit were still inside.
She started unpacking and found a small pouch of coins hidden inside a dress.
It was Elspeth, she knew it.
Elspeth! How will I survive without you?
She put the poetry book on the small table beside the bed, the dresses in the wardrobe, and the sewing kit in the table drawer along with the coins.
The moment she wasn't done, someone knocked at the door. Before she could answer, it opened and a maid entered with a tray.
She put the tray on the table. It was dinner, full of leftovers again. The meat was cold, the bread was stale and a small piece of cheese with a cup of water.
"Why here?" Alina asked. "Why bring it to my room instead of making me eat in the kitchen like in the morning?"
The maid shook her head and walked towards the door.
"Has someone given you orders not to talk to me?" Alina asked.
The maid didn't acknowledge her. She walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
"No one talks to me," She muttered. "No one looks at me and no one tells me anything."
She sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly exhausted and picked up the stale bread, eating it anyway. It was better than staying hungry.
The afternoon stretched into the evening. Alina lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The ceiling has no cracks and leaks. In her father's house, she had spent nights watching water drip into the bucket she had placed beneath the roof.
Someone knocked at the door again. This time, she didn't wait for it to open. She crossed the room in three steps, pulled the door open herself and found another maid standing there.
What now???
"It's ten o'clock," The maid said. "You're expected."
Then she left, like all the others, without another word.
Alina looked down at herself. The grey dress was wrinkled from lying on the bed. Her hair was tangled, and her face looked pale in the candlelight.
The logical choice would be to change, fix her hair to look presentable for the man who owned her. But she didn't.
She walked out of her room, down the corridor, through the maze she was beginning to remember, and into the Duke's room.
The fire was dying and the transparent nightgown was laid out on the coverlet.
Alina ignored it. She sat in the chair by the dying fire and waited. The minutes crawled by. The fire crackled and the candle was almost burnt out when the door opened.
He was there.
Before she could see his face, his hand moved and the lamp beside the door went out. The room fell into darkness, lit only by the fire.
She heard him move. She again heard the soft thud of his boots, the rustle of his coat being removed. Then, like yesterday, the mattress dipped as he lay down.
Alina didn't move from the chair.
"You could at least introduce yourself."
No answer.
"I've spent more time with your fireplace than with you."
Still no answer.
"Go to sleep," He said in his deep voice after a few seconds.
"No."
She could feel him looking at her, even if she couldn't see him.
"No?"
"You bought me." She leaned forward, gripping the arms of the chair. "The minimum courtesy is showing me your face. Or I'll keep talking all night."
Silence stretched between them.
"Talk, then," He replied, as if challenging her.
Alina blinked. She hadn't expected that. She had expected him to ignore her, order her, or just fall asleep like yesterday. She hadn't expected him to call her bluff.
But she also knew she had started this and she couldn't back down now. So she talked.
"Your library is impressive." She began. "The military history section spans an entire wall. All those books about battles, strategies and the best ways to kill people make it look like you're preparing for a war in your own home."
She paused, checking if he was listening. His breathing hadn't changed.
"I also saw a poetry book on your table. A love poetry collection."
"You went through my books?" He asked immediately.
"I went through your room, Your Grace." She shrugged. "The poetry book was the only interesting part."