Meals in the great hall were a ritual now. Three days had passed since that conversation with Austin. They hadn't spoken to each other since then.
In the great hall, Lord Ashby was her anchor. He greeted her every day and spoke to her like a normal person.
Lady Talbot, a wealthy merchant's wife, not noble, but tolerated because her husband supplied half the castle's goods, had also started talking to her.
Alina, Lord Ashby and Lady Telbot had formed their own little group among the hostile courtiers. The three of them chatted and laughed together about the simplest things.
Alina was reaching for her bread when a servant appeared at her elbow, holding a pitcher of wine. The boy was young and looked nervous as he reached towards her cup.
Suddenly, he tripped and the pitcher tilted. Wine spilled over her from shoulder to waist.
The hall went quiet.
Wine dripped from her chin, her sleeves, and the edge of the table. Someone laughed, breaking the silence. Then another and more laughter followed.
Those who didn't laugh, looked at her with curiosity. They waited to see her reaction. They expected her to cry, expected her to flee, expected her to create a scene.
The servant murmured apologies and was trembling with fear.
Alina stood up and looked down at herself. She smoothed her dress, letting the wine drip to the floor, then sat down again.
She picked up her spoon and tasted the soup.
"The soup is quite good," She said as if nothing had happened. "Leek and potato, is it?"
Lady Talbot laughed immediately, and Lord Ashby joined her. Then few others followed, unsure whether they were laughing at her or with her.
The servant scurried away, still mumbling apologies that no one heard. Alina got busy with her soup.
Austin watched everything. His expression didn't change, but his grip on his wine glass tightened so much it looked like it might crack.
Alina was eating and talking with Lord Ashby and Lady Talbot when her spoon slipped from her hand and the hot soup spilled on her hand.
What's wrong with me???
It burned. She jerked her hand and bit back a gasp, forcing herself not to react. Under the table, she pressed her thumb over the burn, trying to ease the pain.
No one noticed her. Lady Talbot was talking about her husband's latest shipment. Lord Ashby was arguing about something in a book again. The courtiers also had returned to their conversations.
She went back to her room and changed immediately. The dress was completely ruined. She sat on the edge of her bed, holding the dress and cried.
Not because of the dress or because of the burn on her hand, which was already red and blistering.
She cried because of the loneliness she felt in the castle every second. She cried because of the constant performance of being strong. She cried because there was no one to hold and tell her everything would be okay.
She walked to her desk, took out a quill, ink and paper, and began writing.
Dearest Elspeth,
I don't know if this letter will reach you. I don't know if anyone will deliver it, or if it will disappear somewhere in this castle but I''m writing anyway. I have to talk to someone, or I'll explode.
Ravenmoor is both beautiful and terrible. The castle is huge, the library is heaven, and the people... I don't have words for the people here. They watch me constantly, waiting for me to fail, to break, to prove I don't belong here.
And the Duke, Austin, who owns me, doesn't touch me. He doesn't even look at me most of the time. Yet, he orders dresses for me in colours that suit me.
I can't understand him. He is cold in private, but attentive in public.
I miss you. I miss home, even though I had difficult time there. At least there, I knew who I was. Here, I don't know anything.
If you receive this, know that I'm alive and trying to survive. I love you.
Yours Alina.
She folded the letter, sealed it with wax from the candle on her desk, and put it in the drawer.
I'd ask Lord Ashby tomorrow to help me deliver it. He might help me.
In the evening, a maid came to her room with a new black dress. As always, she laid it on the bed without looking at her.
"From the duke," She whispered.
Alina looked at the dress. It was almost the same dress that was ruined by the wine during the lunch. She let out a small laugh.
"Looks like your duke is very gracious." Alina mocked.
"Indeed," The maid replied. "The servant who spilled wine on you has been reassigned to scullery duty on His Grace's orders. He'll be scrubbing pots for a year now."
Alina couldn't believe her ears.
Austin punished a servant… for me?? A bed warmer???
The maid seeing her lost in thought, left without any other word.
At night, when he came to his room, Alina lay with her back to him. She didn't speak. But he did.
"The soup was leek and potato."
Alina frowned.
Why is he talking about soup?
"You hate that soup," He said. "You pushed it away yesterday at breakfast."
Her heart stuttered. He had noticed. He had been noticing everything about her. But she didn't say anything, giving him the taste of his own medicine.
She then felt him sitting up and turn towards her. She didn't.
Let him look at my back.
"Show me." He said.
"I'm sorry?" She finally turned.
"Your hand," He said. "I know you burned yourself at the table and you didn't let anyone see it. Show me."
She froze.
He knew this as well. He knew every damn thing about her.
She didn't know what to say, so she extended her hand instead. He took it, turned it over in the firelight, and examined her burn mark.
Then he got up and walked to the washstand. She heard the sound of water and a cloth being wrung out. When he returned, he sat beside her on the bed and pressed the cool cloth gently on her burn mark.
She looked at his face and he looked up. The distance between them was barely an inch. Neither of them moved. The firelight casted shadows between them.
If he moved even a little …he would be kissing me.