*~1989~*
A sharp, sudden noise startled Katria awake. Her eyes flew open to a blur of platinum blonde hair and piercing icy-blue eyes. For a heartbeat, her mind reached for a memory of her mother, but as the figure pulled back, the illusion shattered.
Her mother never looked like this.
The woman standing over her was an embodiment of cold, calculated wealth. She wore a heavy silk gown that looked as though a hundred tailors had spent months on its intricate embroidery. Diamonds and gold dripped from her neck and wrists, catching the morning light. She wasn't just beautiful; her features were so perfect they felt inhuman. Since arriving at this estate, Katria had seen nothing but breathtaking faces, but this woman's beauty was a weapon.
"So, you are my brother's new wife," a voice said.
It was a cold, brittle sound that didn't match the angelic face. It was the voice of a devil in the skin of a saint. The woman took a slow step back, giving Katria room to breathe, though her presence still felt suffocating.
Brother's wife? Katria's mind raced. She hadn't known the Van der Woods had a daughter her age. Then again, the world knew almost nothing about Europe's most secretive family—only that they lived in shadows and held more power than kings.
"Who are you?" Katria asked, her voice raspy from sleep.
"Rude," the woman remarked, though her expression didn't change. She swept over to the edge of the bed and sat down with a grace that felt predatory. "I am Abigail Van der Wood. And as I said, you must be my brother's wife."
Abigail's blue eyes washed over Katria, scanning her every movement as if she were inspecting a piece of livestock. The morning sun hit her blonde hair, making it glow like a halo, but there was nothing holy about her gaze.
"I am Katria Winchester," Katria said, her own gaze deepening.
"Katrielle VanderWood, you mean," Abigail corrected sharply.
The name hit Katria like a physical blow. Van der Wood. She wasn't a Winchester anymore. She had been traded, signed away, and rebranded in a single night.
"It's fine; I forgive the slip," Abigail said with a faint, chilling smile. "You were only married yesterday. It's a lot to get used to." She rose from the bed and glided closer, her eyes never leaving Katria's. "I just hope you're up to the task. I'd hate for you to end up running away like the others."
Katria's blood ran cold. "The others? Has Darian marry many others?"
"What, are you jealous?" Abigail tilted her head, watching Katria's reaction.
"No," Katria snapped, sitting up straighter. "I just need to know what I've gotten myself into. You're a woman—you should understand that, right?"
"I'm afraid I don't," Abigail replied, her tone devoid of any empathy. "And I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not here to be your confidante. I only wanted to see the lamb for myself."
She leaned in, her smile widening just enough to be terrifying.
"The rumors were true. You'll make a magnificent lamb."
Without another word, Abigail turned on her heel and vanished from the room,
Katria stood there, not only confused but insulted. What does she mean? What is going on? Who are these people?
Fear started to grip her chest as it seemed like she didn't really know what she was getting into. And it was finally dawning on her.
The maids then came in and helped her up, then bowed in front of her.
"It's morning time, my lady. It's time for you to take your bath."
"My lady?" she stammered. "Why are you calling me that?"
"Because you are married to our master. You are our lady."
She wanted to say something, but she knew it wouldn't make sense. She was now a Vanderwood.
"Can you just call me Katria?"
The maids shook their heads. "We can't call you that, ma'am. We are beneath you. We can't call you by your gracious name. We can only call you 'my lady.'"
This maid didn't know that she was once in their shoes. In fact, just yesterday, she was a maid cleaning houses, and now she was being told that maids were no longer on her level. Her mom is a maid. Her best friend is a maid. Even she herself is a maid.
"No, you can't call me that."
"Please, we don't want to risk our jobs and our lives. Just let us call you that."
Katria paused, and she finally understood. Even though she was their lady, she had no power in this house. And she knew what it meant—she knew what happened when maids did something their masters told them to do and still got punished for it.
Then she got up from the bed, and the maids led her to the bathroom in her room. They gave her one of the silkiest baths she had ever received in her life. The water was warm and filled with what seemed like milk. The fragrance was insane, and there were flowers floating in it.
She had never used hot water to bathe since she was a child. She was always told that only people of high status should use hot water, while maids—the lower ones—should use cold water, no matter the weather. And when it was hot, like in summer, they still had to follow the rules.
But now she was in a high status, and she felt so guilty for it, because she was not living the life of those who had once made her life a living hell.
They brought her out of the bathtub and dried her body. They didn't allow her to touch a single thing. Then they gave her a gown to wear.
She was shocked by the gown. She wanted to say no, to ask for her former clothes, but she knew she would be stupid for that. It would be foolish to reject a gown that fit her body so perfectly.
Then she asked, "You… the maids… have the Vanderwoods always been inside this house and not come outside?"
The maids turned to each other, shocked.
"You are not meant to ask questions. You are not meant to talk to us about anything other than your needs," they said.
She nodded.
God, she needed her mom. She needed her best friend. She needed them.
"Is my husband at home?" she asked.
The maids looked at each other.
"No… please, I really need to know this one thing. I know I'm not supposed to ask questions, but I can't help it. Is my husband at home?"
They swallowed and then shook their heads. "No, he's not. But he will be back tonight. Please don't ask us any more questions, my lady. We don't want to get in trouble."
She nodded.
After lunch, Katria decided to stand outside and wait until he came back. She needed to ask him to either bring her parents and her best friend here, or to let her go visit them—even though she never wanted to step foot in her father's house again.
Still, it wouldn't hurt to see the looks on her father, her stepmother, and her stepsister's faces—to see her dressed like a lady, no longer as a maid.
So she stood outside… until night fell.