I pass the needle through the linen with shaky hands. Sewing should be calming, but I'm not a bit calm.
I was sitting with sharks.
"Mother, is it true Eloise is to wed a Lycan?" My step-sister Fiona cut through the silence.
"Yes, my dearest. That's if she survives long enough to be wed," my stepmother replied, delight clinging to her tone.
Most certainly, they enjoyed this far better than I did. They couldn't wait to rub it in my face.
Fiona giggled maliciously. "How are your lessons? I heard you've been learning about your soon-to-be family. Tell me, Is it true Lycan's fuck in their beast form?"
The needle pricked my finger and I hissed, quickly sucking to ease the pain.
"Eloise, she asks you a question."
After hours of sewing, I finally raised my gaze and became the elephant in the room.
My stepmother had the usual ghastly look on her face, like I was the bringer of all her life's problems, and my step-sister—smiley as always, eager to acknowledge my existence even though I tried to remain a ghost.
"Yes," I replied, inwardly recoiling. That was one of the many reveals that have troubled me.
I've been given lessons ever since my father announced my betrothal to the Lycan Monarch. I dreaded the day I'd be presented before him to see if I was fit to be his wife.
I've heard stories of the monarch, who was a powerful, feared ruler of the Lycans who succeeded in ending the war. Their long-reigning battle with the vampires has left the world broken.
To secure our future as the last human kingdom, my father, the Archduke of Beloria, wants to ally with them.
He believed the winning side would benefit us and help take back the lands we lost. That he said, but I knew it was no less than gaining more power.
To do that, what better option than giving his bastard daughter to the beasts?
Fiona giggled again, pulling me out of my thoughts. There was always something about my life she deemed funny. I should laugh, too, but I couldn't muster expressive emotions right now because just breathing made Stepmother angry.
"Poor Eloise, I pray you get eaten at the Bride's Presentation so that you don't have to fuck a Lycan."
I wanted to roll my eyes now, but I held back.
"Your father depends on this Presentation with everything, the kingdom looks forward to it too. You must make the monarch like you," Stepmother said in a strict tone. "Or suffer the consequences."
I've no idea how I intend to make the monarch like me. I knew nothing of his likes or dislikes, only as the warlord I'd read about. He'd lived through war all the years of his life, and recent rumors spoke of how much of a mindless beast he had become.
I might not be ripped apart tomorrow, but I'll face the consequences of failure. Maybe I should pray to the gods to strike me dead now.
As if this particular prayer was worthy of an answer, the thunder boomed, and the windows rattled from the sheer force.
"Ha, another downpour? This spring season is something else."
"Maybe the gods are weeping for Eloise," Fiona amused.
This one time, I agreed with her. I was going to meet a tragic fate come the morrow; no one would mourn me, and my ghost wouldn't wander to find out.
"Come pour me tea, I'm parched."
I blinked away from the window before my stepmother would yell at me for not focusing on my womanly duties.
"Eloise, I said you should pour me tea. Did you not hear me?"
My eyebrow furrowed in confusion. I looked over the handmaids with their heads lowered, waiting for instruction, but no one had moved.
She meant me.
Swallowing hard, I rise, dropping the fabric held tightly in an embroidery hoop.
My shoes resounded as I walked to the table. I moved my hand to the teapot, being close, I could feel the heat.
"It's still hot, perhaps let it cool down a bit."
"No, I want my tea in my cup now," she pressed. "Mother, tell her!"
"You heard her, pour it."
My eyes skimmed the table for a napkin to use, wanting to be done with this and going back to pretending I didn't exist.
"Do it with your bare hands."
I froze at her words; however, delaying wouldn't do me any good. I can still remember the time I said no to cleaning out her chamber pot; the back of my knee still hurts from my stepmother's cane.
I grabbed the teapot and chewed the inside of my mouth when the heat got too much, but I poured the tea anyway.
"That's better. Such an obedient thing you are," she said nastily. "Cheer up, Eloise, you were chosen for a greater purpose."
"And I'm pleased."
Sure, it was a great responsibility, don't make me laugh!
"Father tells me I'll marry a rich Lord, of great character, and if the gods are kind, he'd be given a land with a grand title, I'll be a princess. What do you think? Jealous?" she grinned.
"I'm sure this Lord will be lucky to have you as a wife. To find someone of your qualities is rare," I commented with a smile.
"Of course, he would! I'm perfect, unlike you born of a whore."
I slipped, intentionally.
Fiona's screams echoed through the four walls of the room, and she jumped, the table tipping aside.
"Dearest, are you alright? Don't touch it—bring me cold water now!"
The handmaids hurried to fetch them. Thank the gods for Fiona's thick gown; she didn't get burned, but I can't say the same for her hand.
"She burned me!" she cried.
My stepmother's hand struck my cheek. "You wicked girl!"
I placed my hand on the spot and it ached under my touch, the corner of my eyes stung, but I didn't let the tears fall.
"I kept you in our home in spite of the fact your mother whored her way to my husband. You're an insect I should have squashed a long time ago!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs.
"My mother was not a whore," I glared.
She huffed scornfully. "You know nothing of her, how would you know?"
My teeth clenched. I hated how true her words were. I didn't know anything about her, not even what she looked like, and Father didn't spare me enough to tell me about her.
But I like to imagine she wasn't a cruel person like the woman who stood before me.
"Well then, let me tell you exactly who she was. She shamelessly seduced my husband like the filth she was—I curse the day he brought a screaming baby into this house!"
I cursed that day, too, but in the end, it never mattered.