[Back at what was once Ogden Cove]

I gave Mama her cup of tea and whatever else she requested before slowly closing the door to her room and sighing with relief.

She hadn't probed me about my supposed lie or asked further about her torn dress, so I was relieved to be playing it safe for the meantime.

I was about to head upstairs when there was a sudden knock on the door. Thoughtlessly, I went ahead to open it. For some reason, I had become rather brazen after the princess's funeral, knowing that I was less likely to be recognized and put to the spear.

And whoever could there be, standing at the door? Not anyone much of importance, since those people had already come and went much swifter than I would have deemed necessary.

So I was a bit shocked when I pulled open the door and there stood Marquess Huxley with the brightest smile on the face of the Earth.

"M'lady!" he beamed and once more, took my hand. He kissed the back of it and when I was finally able to pull it away, I wiped my hand on the back of my dress since I couldn't bear the one wet spot..

"M'lady, those were truly one of the darkest days whilst I was apart from you," he continued without stopping. "And such a shame it was to cut off the banquet, too. But given that the circumstances called for it, I hold the opinion that it was more than necessary."

I scoffed. This little bastard… Was he actually serious? He shut down the event without any prior warning and left to save his own skin. He never even told the ladies present about any safety procedures! He left them to die! And then he comes around to inform me about the validity of his opinion. I think he's a real jerk.

"Is that so?" I folded my arms and looked straight into his eyes, challenging him with a stare. "May I know of these 'circumstances' you talk about?"

I could tell that he was nervous as he gave the guards behind him an unsure peek.

"Well, I'd say that's confidential-" he said but I cut him in right away.

"I'd rather not hear any half-baked lies right now, good sire," I smiled coldly. "It's early in the morning; I don't have time for this. State your business, please."

Marquess Huxley gave a wobbly smile as he balanced on his heel and then stood upright.

"Ah, then..." he said softly as he looked into my eyes. "I've come to take away my bride, just as we agreed in the gardens of the Plaza that day."

I frowned. "Pardon?"

He took a deep shaky breath. "I've come to marry you, my love."

It took each and every part of my body to keep me from gagging. Was he serious??? No wait, really??? He thinks I'll still be his bride after what he did to me, to all of us? And to hell with his claims! I never agreed to anything!

"I'm not going anywhere," I snarled bitterly.

It was his turn to be puzzled. "I'm sorry?"

I didn't care about the guards behind him. I didn't care that his aristocratic father was inside the carriage. I wasn't gonna let him go this easily.

Nonchalantly, I leaned against the doorframe.

"You wanna know what happened after you left that day?"

Visible sweat appeared on his forehead as he digested my words. "Um, after I left, you say?"

"Exactly," I scoffed. "Saving your own skin was so much more important for you than giving all the women in the hall even a second thought, huh? Do you know how scared we were? Most everybody was in tears, and some might not even be able to ever recover from the mental trauma they got from that experience. Good going, Marquess! Shall I give you a medal for getting cold feet after hearing the extremely good news from Wendell Alistair?"

He looked visibly uncomfortable. Again, there was a furtive exchange in glances between him and his guards.

"Forgive me if anything came off that way, m'lady," he said as he placed a gloved hand on his heart. "But my love for you remains unwavering."

My ears would start bleeding any moment if he didn't take this gentleman act away from this door.

"But whenever did I agree to your proposal, O' dearest Marquess?" I said sarcastically. "There was no agreement between us. Not that day, no never!"

He reached forward for my hand but I slapped him away.

"But m'lady," he cried. "I thought you liked the idea of marrying me! Why ever would you reject someone everyone else dreams of letting their daughters marry."

I shrugged. I was angry, yes. I was afraid I'd burst out to my full potential any moment, but I needed answers.

"No," I said, folding my arms again. "Tell me something, though. If you're so eager to marry, why did you dedicatedly pursue a girl of no social status living in a tiny building on a deserted street? You could've married any rich noble woman with a high position in her social circle? Like Wendell Alistair, for example? Or perhaps any other woman in the Plaza beside me? I'm sure you know what I mean, Marquess, none of us is that daft."

The Marquess was still not ready to admit anything, "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, for God's sake," I scoffed. "Let's all pretend to be adults for once. Why do you like me?"

He let a white gloved hand rake through his golden curls as he thought about how to answer. "Um, you're very pretty."

I nodded. "Alright, what else?"

He looked at the floor and frowned. I could tell the wheels were turning in his head, but was there any result being produced?

"I-I.." he stuttered, trying to answer my seemingly difficult question. Was it that hard to name a few pros about the person you liked? "I… You smell extremely nice?"

I stared in pure outrage at his face. "I do not. I'm aware of that, even. And that's no reason to actually fall for someone. Have you really got nothing else?"

He sighed. It was more of a grumble, actually. I realized he was running out of patience.

"Am I so wrong to fall for a woman for her face?" he asked as he threw his hands in the air in mock surrender. "Yes, you're pretty. Yes, I like that. Do you need any more confirmation to marry a would-be ideal husband?"

I scoffed, loud and clear. I couldn't believe the audacity of this guy. He was too full of himself, and someone needed to tell him that.

"Please, Marquess," I muttered, holding up a hand. "No need to be so self assertive. I'm sure there are plenty of other women who'd beg to marry you, so I'd rather no one waste my time right now."

"But-"

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?" came a booming voice from behind the lavishly decorated carriage. The Marquess and I turned our faces in unison towards the bellow, and raised our eyebrows in surprise as a tall man in a dress coat and pants appeared from behind the carriage's, walking with a long, smart walking stick.

He had white blonde hair and a clean shaven face which was twisted into a mix of anger and impatience.

"Father," Marquess Huxley mumbled. "What are you doing outside? I was just coming in in a moment, so if you please-"

The duke gave his son a look that purely said 'Shut up' before Marquess's voice trailed away.

"Let me take a look at the girl who you've fallen head over heels for." My eyes widened in alarm as he approached the doorway, his eyes straight on me. "Ah, who do we have here? A little sheepling, I see. Speak your name."

I was speechless. Literally. I couldn't say a word under the intense, unwavering gaze of this man. Still, I mustered up some courage to say, "Ashli Rivers...my lord."

He nodded. "And have you bewitched him? My daft son has agreed to marry no one but you, so I've been quite curious to meet you. I didn't know his standards were so low."

Marquess Huxley covered his face with his hands.

"Any adult I could talk to so we could hurriedly finalize this marriage?" he asked as he tried to look past me inside the inn.

"Erm..." I didn't know how to respond. "I didn't agree to marry your son, my lord."

"What?"

"It's exactly as you've heard," I muttered, fidgeting with my hands and a stray thread on my sleeve. "I'm not marrying him."

He frowned. "But that's just absurd. Why ever not?"

I shrugged. Lame, I know. "I don't like him."

The duke scoffed. "What utter nonsense. Then why are we wasting our time here? Let's leave."

Exactly, I begged wordlessly. Get out of here.

"What's going on? Who's at the door?" I turned around abruptly and there stood Mama behind me, looking at our uninvited visitors with clear puzzlement.

I was about to tell her that it was nothing of importance when the duke let out a loud gasp behind me.

"Ruthven Swailes!?" he exclaimed. "Is that you?"

Mama frowned. "Damn right that's me. Who's asking?"

"My God! You're as curt as I remember. It's been so long since I last saw you. How are you and your little 'husband' doing?"

Mama's frown deepened as she tried to make sense of his words. Then it all came to light as her frown transformed into an expression of shock.

"Lucan!? God forbid that's you," she cried. "What the hell happened?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, smiling smugly. "After you rejected my love, I went ahead to marry a fair girl and slowly climbed the ranks. As you can clearly see,"- he pointed to a badge on his chest, which was a strange shape with some words in the middle- "I've become a duke. And what of that wretched man you chose? Elric, was it? Where's he?"

"Dead," Mama spat. "And in a much better place than you. Now get out of my face." With that, Mama pulled me inside and slammed the door on all their faces. ""