Duke of the Beast and the Vicarious Bride - Chapter 2

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※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

It must be some vile joke, she concluded, for her own peace of mind. Or perhaps, now that she was well of marriageable age, it was the Count’s way of threatening her to wed and be gone from his lands. She pondered his intentions for a moment, then, as always, tossed the troublesome matter over her shoulder.

The problem she had ignored returned like a boomerang the very next day.

It was only after the Count had her brought to his drawing-room and sat her down that Fiona began to grasp her situation, however dimly. Their proposal, from the start, had offered no choice at all.

“Have you understood a word I’ve said?”

Fiona, who had been staring blankly at the ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling, only lowered her gaze when she heard the Count’s voice, sharp with irritation.

“So… who and where, exactly?”

“The Aquileia Grand Duchy, in the north, my dear,” the Countess interjected, unable to bear it, her tone elegant as she answered in the Count’s stead. A true lady was different, it seemed. Even her vexation could be expressed with such grace. The Count, on the other hand…

“Cease your pretence of ignorance, you ill-mannered, vulgar girl.”

For one making a request, he was remarkably stiff. Fiona’s already crooked disposition twisted further. She picked at her ear, as if to provoke the angry Count further. It was a vile habit, she admitted, but their disgust at her utter lack of manners was, she found, rather amusing.

Half in anger, half in amusement, Fiona let her eyes sweep over the members of the House of Troyes seated in a row before her. With their pale wheat-coloured hair and blue eyes, they resembled a litter of well-bred puppies, artfully arranged.

She knew roughly of her half-siblings’ existence. Like it or not, she lived on the Count’s lands, and news of the ruling family was a prime topic among the tenants. With the eldest, Jayden, in particular, she had shared a bitter enmity since their first encounter when she was about ten. This half-brother, born the same year as Fiona, was now watching her with a twisted mouth, clearly displeased with the present situation.

And beside him, sitting demurely with eyes downcast, was Joséphine, the Count’s cherished youngest daughter, two years Fiona’s junior.

It is the first time I have seen her face.

Fiona mused again on how unlike them she was. With her flame-red hair, her deep green eyes, her slightly upturned nose, she was different in every way. Seeing Joséphine, adorned from head to toe in finery, Fiona briefly clenched and unclenched her own scarred and calloused hand.

Though they shared a father, Joséphine, raised since birth with all the care in the world, and Fiona, left to roll like a pebble in the street, could not be compared, not even in their outward appearance. Twenty-three years she had lived this way. It was no time for harbouring grudges or indulging in self-pity.

They had their lives, and Fiona had lived her own with equal intensity. To claim she felt no envy or jealousy whatsoever would be a falsehood, but even those feelings she had overcome long ago. After all, humans are creatures that adapt to their circumstances.

Thus, her confusion was all the greater. Why would these people, who had lived their lives paying her no mind, now go so far as to endure this unwelcome reunion simply to foist a marriage upon her?

“Still, I cannot quite grasp it. Why must I, of all people, suddenly marry this Aqui… Ache… this Duke, whatever his name is? And in Mademoiselle Joséphine’s stead, no less.”

At Fiona’s blunt inquiry, the Count of Troyes replied with evident displeasure.

“This match is by command of His Majesty the Emperor. But Joséphine is delicate and cannot journey to the north. Therefore, we have deemed you the more suitable daughter of the House of Troyes to send as Grand Duchess.”

Delicate? She had never heard such a thing. Fiona studied Joséphine’s clear face with a suspicious eye. The young lady looked perfectly healthy, save for a hint of red about her eyes, as if she might have shed tears before Fiona’s arrival.