A Night of Ashes

The moonlight spilled faintly through the carved windows of the viscount’s mansion, silvering the halls with cold light. Evelina sat on the edge of her bed, her body trembling. The lace gown clung too tightly, too thin, baring more of her skin than she could endure.

She had not chosen this.

She had not chosen any of it.

The door creaked open, and her father strode inside, his steps firm with false authority. His eyes scanned her once, then he smirked.

“You will do as I say,” Viscount Duskbane hissed, his voice low and poisonous. “I did not beg the Duke for one night in this house just to watch you fail me. Tonight, you will prove your worth. You will progress this marriage, give him a child—his heir. Only then will he be bound to us. Only then will I have power.”

Evelina’s breath caught. “Father… I—”

“Silence!” His hand cut through the air. “Do not disgrace me, girl. I’ve struggled enough to keep him here. Do not embarrass me again. Do as I told you.”

His words struck her like blows. Before she could speak again, he gestured sharply, and two maids entered. They bowed to the viscount, then advanced upon Evelina with practiced hands, fastening the laces of the gown tighter, arranging her hair loosely to fall over her bare shoulders. They painted her lips a faint rose, as though she were a courtesan rather than a bride.

When they stepped back, Evelina could see herself in the mirror across the room. Pale skin, trembling frame, eyes brimming with unshed tears. She looked nothing like the girl she once dreamed of being.

The viscount gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Stay like this. Do not fail me.”

He turned sharply on his heel and left, the door closing with a hollow thud.

The room was silent again, except for the frantic beating of Evelina’s heart.

She sat there, knees drawn together, hands pressed tightly to her chest, trembling with every breath. Her mind raced, imagining what would happen when the Duke entered. Every scenario ended the same: humiliation, fear, helplessness.

The door opened suddenly. Kael stepped in, his presence filling the room like a storm. His storm-gray eyes fell on her immediately, taking in the thin lace gown, the trembling figure before him. His lips pressed into a hard line, a flash of anger crossing his otherwise unreadable face.

He said nothing.

He began to turn, clearly intending to leave.

Evelina, panic rising, sprang forward. “Your Grace—please! If you leave, everyone will gossip. My father… he will know!”

He stopped abruptly. Kael’s hand shot out, gripping hers with iron strength. Before she could react, his other hand cupped her face, tilting it toward his. His eyes burned into hers.

“What do you think?” he hissed, low and dangerous. “Do you think you can seduce me like this? That I am like the others?”

Before she could respond, he pushed her onto the bed. His cloak brushed against her as he climbed over her, the room shrinking until it was only them.

“Tell me… do you want this?” he demanded, leaning close, lips near hers.

Evelina could not speak. Her body trembled, heart hammering so violently it felt like it might burst.

Kael’s stormy gaze studied her, and then, suddenly, he pulled back. His hands left her, but his voice cut the air like steel.

“How shameless you are,” he said coldly. “To think you would sleep with a man you do not know… how many times have you done this before?”

Evelina shivered, silent, staring at the ceiling.

“Do not you dare touch me,” he continued, rising, his shadow falling over her. “Do not come near me. This is not a real marriage. Do not think… for one moment… that I will love you. I do not care. This is a contract. Nothing more.”

He turned sharply, leaving the room with the echo of his boots against the floor. The door slammed behind him.

Evelina sat alone, chest heaving, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. She clutched herself, trembling so violently that the bed creaked beneath her. Her nightgown, the room, the whole world felt like a cage.

All through the night, she wept.

She thought of her life: the endless torment from her father, the cruel stepsister, the stepmother’s sharp smiles, the lies and humiliations that had filled her days since childhood. Every memory burned her heart anew.

This is my life, she whispered into the darkness. This… hell. I don’t want it. I don’t want to live.

The moon shifted, casting pale light across the room. Evelina’s sobs gradually softened, leaving only the hollow ache of despair. She lay curled on the bed, trembling, haunted, and utterly alone.

The first night of her marriage passed — not with love, not with warmth, but with fear, pain, and the suffocating knowledge that her life had become a cage from which there was no escape.

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