It was an hour later when the butler returned and Alistair, along with Jonathan and William, were escorted to meet Lord Bellmere in the drawing room. Alistair thought the man was a nervous wreck, pacing back and forth and sweating profusely like a restless pig.
"Lord Ravenshade." He scurried over, then bowed the moment Alistair was at the door. "I sincerely apologize for the wait. Your arrival was... very unexpected before the due date. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable."
Alistair, Jonathan and William strolled in, and Alistair sat down on the sofa while Jonathan and William stood behind him.
Alistair flicked his gaze across the room, noticing it was not only Lord Bellmere who was present, but the lady of the manor, too, along with two young men one in his early twenties and the second looked not any other than a teen. He suspected the woman was Lady Evelyn Bellmere and the two young men Lord Bellmere's sons Lucian and Cassian.
"May I introduce my family." Lord Bedford said. He raised his hand and gestured toward the woman seated beside him.
"This is my wife, Lady Evelyn Bellmere," he continued, his voice wavering slightly. "And these are my sons—Lucian, my eldest, and Cassian, my youngest."
Lady Evelyn inclined her head gracefully, though there was a sharpness in her gaze that did not go unnoticed by Alistair. Lucian, the older of the two boys, gave a stiff nod, his posture rigid, while Charles, though trying to appear composed, could not quite mask his curiosity as he studied the three men who had entered their home.
Alistair leaned back against the sofa, one leg crossing over the other as he observed them. "A pleasure," he murmured, though his tone lacked warmth. His piercing gaze returned to Lord Bellmere, whose nervousness had yet to subside.
"Now," Alistair said smoothly, resting his hands on the armrest, "shall we discuss the reason for my unexpected arrival?"
Lord Bellmere swallowed hard and hesitated before responding. "Y-Yes, of course. I just... I hadn't expected you so soon. The arrangements were not yet finalized."
Alistair raised an eyebrow. "And yet, here I am." His voice carried an edge that made the older man flinch. "I do hope there won't be any issues, Lord Bellmere."
Lady Evelyn suddenly spoke, her voice calm but firm. "Surely, Lord Ravenshade, a delay of a few days would not be an inconvenience? We were under the impression there was more time to prepare."
Alistair smiled, but it was devoid of amusement. "Time is a luxury I do not indulge in, my lady. My presence here should serve as a reminder of that."
Silence settled in the room, tense and heavy. Lord Bellmere dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief.
"Very well," he conceded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let us proceed."
"Before we start, shouldn't the bride be with us?"Alistair asked.
" Ah, yes. You shall meet her on the day of the wedding. "Lord Bellmere said. " And that is tomorrow, correct."Alistair said, his gaze penetrating the trembling man.
Lord Bellmere nodded his head frantically.
" But I will like to see her now." Alistair said.
Lord Bellmere called Mr Charles and quietly told him to bring Althea over. Mr Charles left the room while Lord Bellmere tried to engage them in simple conversations. Lady Bellmere kept looking at Alistair, he was good looking yes, but she did not want a tyrant for her beloved daughters.
A few minutes passed, and then the butler returned—but alone.
Lord Bellmere frowned. "Where is she?"
Mr. Charles hesitated before bowing deeply. "My lord, Lady Althea is not around at the moment."
A tense silence filled the room.
Lord Bellmere cleared his throat and let out a strained laugh. "Ah, my daughter is quite an adventurous one, you see. She must have gone for a stroll in the gardens or perhaps into the village. There's no need to worry; she will return shortly."
Alistair's fingers tapped against the armrest, his expression unreadable. "Is that so?"
"Yes." Lord Bellmere smiled, rather awkwardly.
Alistair stood from his seat. "Then I shall see her tomorrow." With that he walked out of the drawing room.
ALTHEA
"Why did you tell Mr Charles to say that you are not around?"Miguel asked as we watch the man leave.
" In my world, the bride is not meant to see the groom a day before the wedding. Let me honor the tradition." I told him. "But your father might think you escaped." Mom said. "That dirty pig is not my father, and if he thinks so. He can come over to take a look." I smiled and walked back into the house, Miguel and mum behind my back.
I rubbed my hands together. "Now it's time for some prep wedding spa pampering." I said. "Spa? What's that?" Mum asked. "You will see." I winked at her and got to work, activating my magic circle.
The air around me shimmered, and within seconds, a soft glow enveloped the space as my magic circle formed beneath my feet. The symbols etched into the floor pulsed with a gentle golden light, responding to my call.
Miguel crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe with an amused smirk. "You and your strange customs," he said, shaking his head.
I shot him a grin. "Oh, just wait. You're about to witness the finest pre-wedding pampering in history."
My mother watched with mild skepticism. "And this… spa of yours, it involves magic?"
I nodded. "Of course. A lady must look her best for her wedding, even if she's being sold like cattle." The bitterness in my voice was evident, but I pushed it aside. If I had to go through with this farce, I would at least do it on my terms.
Closing my eyes, I raised my hands, and warm golden mist spread throughout the room. The scent of lavender and jasmine filled the air, and soft music—an enchanting melody only I could conjure—played in the background. A luxurious bath appeared in the center of the room, its waters shimmering with infused herbs and enchanted oils. Plush cushions surrounded a vanity, stocked with exotic creams and elixirs.
My mother's eyes widened in astonishment. "By the gods…"
Miguel let out a low whistle. "Alright, I admit, this is impressive."
I smirked. "Told you."
With a flick of my wrist, the curtains drew themselves shut, the lighting dimmed to a warm glow, and a comfortable chair appeared for my mother. "Mum, you're going first. Miguel, you can stay and watch, but if you make one comment, I'm turning you into a frog."
Miguel raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. "Understood, princess."
As my mother settled into the enchanted bath, sighing in delight as the warm waters soothed her, I rolled up my sleeves.
As my mother sank into the enchanted bath, I watched the tension slowly ease from her shoulders. Her face, usually lined with worry, softened as the warm, herb-infused water worked its magic.
Miguel, ever the observer, sat cross-legged on a nearby cushion, watching with mild fascination. "I hate to admit it, but this might be the first wedding tradition I actually approve of," he said, smirking.
I chuckled, pouring a shimmering oil into the water. "I told you, dear brother, there is power in self-care."
He scoffed. "You mean there's power in avoiding your impending doom for a few hours."
I rolled my eyes, ignoring him as I moved to the vanity. My reflection stared back at me, and for a moment, I just looked at myself. My long, dark curls tumbled over my shoulders, my golden eyes—so much like my mother's—held a determined glint. I was to be married tomorrow, bound to a man I neither knew nor wanted. But I would not go to him looking weak.
I would meet Lord Ravenshade as a queen meeting a king—not as a frightened girl being led to the slaughter.
With a snap of my fingers, an array of beauty products materialized before me—enchanted creams, shimmering powders, and delicate perfumes distilled from the rarest flowers. I grabbed a vial of golden serum and rubbed a few drops between my palms before massaging it into my skin. The moment the elixir touched me, a radiant glow bloomed across my complexion.
"You're really going all out," Miguel remarked, watching as I summoned a brush that began untangling my curls on its own.
I met his gaze in the mirror. "If I am to be forced into this union, I will at least walk into it with my head held high."
My mother sighed from the bath. "I wish there was another way, my love."
I turned to her, my expression softening. "I know, Mama."
Silence settled between us for a moment before she reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. "At least let me help."
With that, she stepped out of the bath, wrapped in a silk robe conjured from thin air. She guided me to the chair before the vanity, taking the brush from the air and running it through my curls herself. It was a simple gesture, one filled with love, and for a moment, I allowed myself to just be a daughter, sitting before her mother, being cared for.
Miguel watched us with an unreadable expression before finally saying, "You'll outshine the groom tomorrow, you know that, right?"
"That's the plan." I smiled. "Are you going to let him kiss you, you know the marriage rituals and all?"
I thought of an annoying war crazed duke. "Nope, not at all." I shook my head shuddering.
Our spa night ended with manicure and pedicure that Miguel joined for although, he did not stay still when I peeled the dead cells off the sole of his feet, not by myself of course. Using my magic.
The wedding dress was sent at night and I stared at the disgusting style. I would not want to caught dead in this, throwing it away, I began to style my dress.
The wedding day arrived with the first light of dawn spilling through my windows. My room was filled with the soft hum of magic as the final touches to my gown were completed. The dress the Bellmeres had sent was a monstrosity—stiff, overly adorned, and completely unbecoming. I had tossed it aside without a second thought and woven my own creation instead.
My gown shimmered under the morning light, an ethereal blend of silver and midnight blue, designed with delicate embroidery that mimicked the constellations. The sleeves draped elegantly off my shoulders, the fabric flowing like liquid moonlight as I moved. I had refused to wear something that made me look like a sacrificial lamb. If I had to go through with this marriage, I would walk down that aisle as a storm, not a meek bride.
Miguel stood in the doorway, arms crossed as he took in my appearance. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by a look of something akin to admiration. "You look..." He shook his head. "Like someone who's about to cause a scene."
I smirked. "Good."
My mother stepped forward, adjusting a loose curl that framed my face. Her eyes were filled with sorrow, but also pride. "You are breathtaking, my love," she murmured. "And strong. Never forget that."
I squeezed her hand. "I won't."
A carriage was out to pick me up. How thoughtful of them. The ride was short and full of anticipation. When I arrived at the large hall. I saw Papa pig and family staring at me. Seraphina was looking at my dress with greedy eyes making me roll my eyes.