CHAPTER 1 Aug 14, 2025 The candles burned too brightly for a house that pretended nothing was wrong. Gold light danced across crystal and china, across faces I once thought I knew. My hands trembled as I poured wine into goblets, confusion burning in my chest. Why was I serving at my own engagement party? Why did Mother force me into an apron instead of the silk gown hanging in my wardrobe? "More wine, Lady Thornwick?" I asked, my voice barely steady. "Oh, how thoughtful," Lady Thornwick cooed, not bothering to look at me. "Such excellent service tonight." Riven sat beside my sister Clarissa at the head table-my place. His eyes met mine for a heartbeat before sliding away like I was nothing more than furniture. Last week, he kissed my fingers and spoke of spring weddings. Tonight, he acted as though we'd never spoken. "Darling," Clarissa's voice rang out sweetly, "tell everyone about the wedding plans." My blood froze. Wedding plans? "The cathedral ceremony will be magnificent," Riven replied, his voice warm and intimate. "Whatever you desire, my love." "How romantic!" Lady Ashford gushed. "When is the blessed day?" "Next month," Clarissa laughed, her hand finding Riven's. "We simply cannot wait any longer." The wine bottle slipped in my grasp. Next month? But we-Riven and I-we were supposed to marry in spring. What was happening? "Smile, Marianne," Mother hissed, appearing beside me like a vulture. "No one wants to see a sour face while they celebrate." "Celebrate what?" I whispered desperately. "Mother, what's going on? Why am I-" "Serving where you belong," she cut me off, her grip bruising my wrist. "Don't make a scene." Father rose, champagne flute gleaming. "Let us toast the future Lord and Lady Grellan-may their union bring joy and prosperity to both our houses!" "To Lord Grellan and Lady Clarissa!" The room erupted in cheers. My world tilted. Lady Clarissa? But I was engaged to Riven. I was supposed to become his Lady. My legs nearly buckled. "Thank you all," Riven stood, pulling Clarissa to her feet. "I am the luckiest man alive to marry such a perfect woman." "Perfect indeed," Lord Ashford called out. "You two are clearly meant for each other!" "Oh, we are," Clarissa beamed, her eyes finding mine across the room with deliberate cruelty. "Some things are simply destined, aren't they?" The guests laughed and applauded. I stumbled backward toward the kitchen, my heart hammering against my ribs. None of this made sense. Three days ago, Riven held me in the garden and promised we'd be wed by summer's end. Now he was engaged to my sister? "Fetch the main course," Mother commanded, shoving me toward the kitchen door. "And wipe that confused look off your face. You're embarrassing the family." In the kitchen, I gripped the marble counter until my knuckles went white. The roasted pheasant sat waiting on its silver platter, golden and perfect. My hands shook as I lifted the heavy tray. I had to know. I had to understand what was happening. As I approached the dining room, voices drifted through the door. "She's quite lovely," Lady Thornwick was saying. "Such grace and beauty." "Clarissa has always been the jewel of our family," Father replied proudly. "We're delighted Lord Grellan chose her." Chose her. The words hit like daggers. "And what of your other daughter?" Lord Ashford asked. "The one serving tonight?" "Marianne?" Mother's laugh was sharp as broken glass. "Oh, she's exactly where she belongs. Some girls are born to marry lords. Others are born to scrub floors." "How fortunate you have both types," Lady Ashford tittered. I pushed through the door, the platter heavy in my trembling hands. I needed answers. I needed to see Riven's face when I- I stopped dead. Through the lace curtain separating the dining room from the parlor, I saw them. Clarissa pressed against the wall, Riven's hands tangled in her hair, their mouths locked together with desperate hunger. Her leg wrapped around his waist. His body pinned her against the wall like he'd done to me just days ago. The platter crashed to the marble floor with a sound like thunder. Crystal shattered. Silver rang against stone. Pheasant and sauce splattered across the pristine white marble in a grotesque masterpiece. The dining room fell silent. "Oh my," Clarissa's voice drifted from the parlor, sweet as poison. "That sounded expensive." She emerged first, smoothing her skirts, her lips suspiciously red. Riven followed seconds later, straightening his cravat, not a trace of shame on his face. "What have you done?" Mother's voice could have frozen fire. I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think past the image burned into my mind. "She dropped the platter," Clarissa said with false concern. "Poor thing. She's always been so clumsy under pressure." "This is unacceptable," Father thundered, rising from his chair. "Look at this mess!" "I-" My voice cracked. "Riven, what-why were you-" "Addressing me so familiarly?" His voice was ice. "I think you've forgotten your place, girl." Girl. Not Marianne. Not my love. Girl. "But we're engaged," I whispered. "You promised-" The room erupted in laughter. Cruel, delighted laughter that echoed off the walls like demons celebrating. "Engaged?" Clarissa pressed a hand to her chest, eyes wide with mock surprise. "Oh, sweet sister, surely you don't mean that little friendship you had with my fiancé?" "He's not your-" The slap cracked across my cheek like a whip. My head snapped sideways, ears ringing. "How dare you," Mother snarled. "How dare you try to steal your sister's happiness with your pathetic fantasies." "They weren't fantasies!" I cried. "He proposed to me! He gave me a ring!" "What ring?" Clarissa laughed, holding up her left hand. The diamond caught the candlelight-my diamond, the one Riven had slipped onto my finger before. "This ring? The one my beloved gave me last week?" The world crumbled beneath my feet. "Enough of this madness," Father roared. "Guards! Remove this delusional girl before she ruins the evening entirely." Strong hands seized my arms. I was dragged from the room like a criminal, like a madwoman, like nothing at all. "Please!" I screamed as they hauled me up the stairs. "Riven, tell them! Tell them we were engaged!" His voice followed me, cold and final: "I have never been engaged to anyone but Lady Clarissa." The attic door slammed shut. The key turned with the sound of my life ending. But in that darkness, rage began to bloom like a poisonous flower. They thought they had destroyed me. They were wrong. "One day," I whispered to the shadows, "I'll make them all pay for this betrayal."