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After a long silence, Wilford finally gave in. Servants led them to three lavish chambers draped in silks and fine curtains. But Wilford, ever cautious, chose to remain close to Elsa, refusing to indulge in excess. New clothes, golden trinkets, and strange luxuries were offered, but they touched them lightly, as though afraid of a hidden price.
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That night, Abigail lay awake. She stared at the golden ceiling, her heart pounding like a drum. Two days… just two days and my life will no longer be mine. What kind of man is Sullivan? Will he hate me? Will I win or lose?
Her thoughts tumbled endlessly until dawn touched the windows with pale light. Just as her weary eyes were about to close, a firm knock echoed on her door.
She sat up, startled. "Who's there?"
A gentle voice replied, muffled by the door. "I'm a nurse assigned to care for you, ma'am."
Abigail frowned. "What do you want?"
"Lady Aurora has instructed me to prepare you for shopping," the woman said politely.
Shopping? Abigail blinked. "I—I don't think I'm ready for that. I have nothing to buy. You can go back."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I must do my job," the woman insisted.
Ma'am? Abigail let out a small chuckle. "I said I'm not interested. I don't want to go."
There was a pause, then the voice softened but grew firmer. "Please, ma'am. If I fail to do this, I'll be dismissed."
Abigail sighed. I'm not even married into this family, and already they are treating me like some fragile doll. What kind of life awaits me here?
The door clicked. A card slid through the side, unlocking the latch. The door creaked open, and a young lady around the age of forty-five entered. She wore a servant's uniform, her posture stiff, her head bowed deeply in greeting.
"Good morning, ma'am. I am Liliana, your nurse," she said with a strange mix of humility and awkwardness.
Abigail stiffened, first she look at the lady that called her ma'am, someone that is way too older than her and second, why does she need a nurse? "I don't need a nurse. I can take care of myself," she uttered.
Liliana lifted her eyes, her voice trembling.
"I am sorry, ma'am, but this is my duty. If I disobey, I will lose my position."
For the first time, Abigail looked closely at her. The woman's eyes carried a quiet desperation, the kind that comes from years of silent obedience. Something inside Abigail softened. She realized Liliana wasn't the enemy—she was another prisoner, just in a different way.
Liliana lowered her head again, her voice patient but steady.
"Lady Aurora awaits, ma'am. She has planned everything for you today. Please, allow me to help you dress."
Abigail hesitated, chewing on her lip. So this is how it begins… a life where every decision will be made for me. She let out a faint sigh and finally nodded.
"Fine. But don't call me ma'am. My name is Abigail."
The woman's eyes flickered with surprise before she offered a timid smile. "Yes ma'am." She reply politely rendering Abigail speechless.
Minutes later, Abigail found herself in a long, sleek car that gleamed like midnight. Aurora sat beside her, draped in a gown of emerald silk, her jewelry catching the morning sun. Two guards in dark suits rode in the front, silent as statues. Liliana sat quietly at Abigail's other side, her presence a shield of calm.
Aurora's perfume filled the space, rich and commanding. She patted Abigail's hand gently.
"Don't look so frightened, child. Today is meant to be joyous! We'll choose dresses, jewels, and everything you'll need as Sullivan's bride. You must shine brighter than the stars on your wedding day."
Abigail forced a nod, her stomach twisting. I don't care about dresses or jewels. I just want to live a normal life.
The car rolled to a stop before a grand shopping plaza, the kind Abigail had only seen in magazines. Crystal chandeliers sparkled through the tall glass walls, and elegant men and women stepped in and out of boutiques where price tags were guarded like secrets.
The moment they entered, the store attendants rushed forward, bowing slightly to Aurora. Their smiles widened when they noticed Abigail.
"Welcome, Lady Aurora. This must be the young bride?" one of them said brightly.
Aurora beamed with pride. "Yes, she is. Bring out the finest collections. Only the best will suit her."
Abigail froze as racks of shimmering gowns were wheeled before her. Gold threads, sequins, velvets, silks—clothes that looked too fine to touch. She had grown up wearing simple fabrics; now they were wrapping her in jewels like a doll for display.
"Try this one, my lady," a tailor urged, holding out a gown that glowed silver beneath the lights.
Liliana whispered softly, "Just breathe… I'll help you."
As they fitted the gown against her, Abigail stared at her reflection in the mirror. For a moment she barely recognized the girl looking back—adorned, polished, yet hollow in the eyes.
Aurora clapped her hands in delight.
"Perfect! Sullivan will not be able to resist you in this."
The mention of his name sent a shiver down Abigail's spine. She had yet to meet him, yet every word about him painted him as a storm.
Her lips parted slightly as a single thought struck her: What if Sullivan doesn't want me?
And then another, darker one followed: What if he does?