01. ENGAGE OR CAGE?!
Sanya was wandering through every corridor in her father's castle, Count Rachberg Von Archilles. The castle itself was completely silent as if all the sound had been erased from her senses as she let out a small hum from her lips. The only sound she could register was the clicks of her feet, steps were too loud as if someone were hiding beneath the noise.
Brushing her fingertips against the cold, dull and sleek white marbled walls, trailing even the dusty ones, as if it will disappear sooner or later, she mumbled sadly that her voice alone could drag the aspiration of the strongest army into a retreat by how it does sound implicated, "Nothing would matter now." Her red hair glowing under the sun that close to the horizon. Her features looked peaceful but her heart dilated, knees begrudgingly shaking, the feeling of anxiousness carving into her body says otherwise.
The words that left from her father's mouth still rung in her ear. You will get married as soon as you reached the age of eighteen.
A beautiful necklace with a sapphire as large as the eyeball, throwing glittering light wantonly, the engagement present handed by the third son of the Margrave; the subject of legend and horrors. Violence so brutal, even his own men struggled to stomach it. It sickened her and felt the flesh of her hands beneath the accessory burning in disgust.
The smell of the perfumed letter sent by her future husband hung in her body, threatening to stay embedded there for eternity.
I wasn't ready. Never will be. She thought to herself.
Unshed tears threatened to wet her cheeks. She wished her mother was still alive. She felt heartbroken and didn't even notice that she came to an abrupt halt as she came across the wide window, her brows furrowed. There's a clash of swords sounding off through the halls. Laughter could also be heard and just like that, she felt jealous because they had all the reasons in the world to smile, while she most certainly had none.
Her eyes were strained as the sun billowed the yellow glow over, vision momentarily hazy as she scanned the beautiful field the Castle had, garden around the courtyard was well-tended, green grass was low and there were all kinds of flowers whose lovely fragrance permeated the air. For a moment, she felt relaxed.
Until her eyes landed on a man. An audible gasp escaped from her lips. To divulge the true reason for her surprised gasp; namely that the man was bigger than life. Chest so broad, sinewy muscles flexed and contracted with each ragged breath. His long midnight black hair, prominent chin and high cheekbones, the young man was, without doubt, the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life. His face was made up of angles, all hard, severe even he was clearly one of the servant in her father's Castle. He was no noble, base on his clothing and his scars--that surprisingly made his face, perfect--scars made him all man and dangerous outside which increased the allure of his features.
That she felt safe. Why?
Deprecatingly, she shook her head, unable to form a coherent answer.
He was wearing an almost transparent long sleeves due to the pale sunlight, tailored slacks, and boots. His arms streaming with a slight outline of veins. Body built packed with muscles while he was friendly sparing with Samuel, that she seldom seen but she knew him... every man and woman, young and old, who were all under the command of one man, his father. She was good at memorizing faces and names.
But Sanya didn't recognize the young man who had caught her attention that seemed to threaten and haunt her thoughts for lifetimes to come. He looked to be at the same age as Samuel.
Who was he? She asked herself as she watched their boots scraped against the muddied grounds, both too fast.
Samuel parrying every strike with a defensive move while the young man's grin created around the corners of his mouth.
Until Samuel had fallen to the earth after the many blows, his sword caught in the ground, that he saw her. Immediately, as if on cue, he was on his feet and bowed to her. She gave a short nod. The unknown young man followed Samuel's perspiration and met Sanya's undivided scrutiny towards him.
She let out a surprised breath and flushed proficiently by how the young man had caught her ogling provocatively. In her peripheral, she saw how Samuel elbowed the young man as he whispered something. The young man's eyes slightly widened and he immediately dropped her head, fist on the chest and bowed.
Before she could even contemplate what was happening, Tobias' voice exclaimed, "Milady, Count Rachberg wanted to see you. Please, follow me."
It was a welcome interruption as her blood stopped circulating and felt embarrassed about what occurred, seconds ago. With a deep and heavy breath, she nodded. "Please, lead the way."
Sanya followed Tobias silently and almost cracked a smile as she reminisced the image of the man earlier.
She realized it was an unladylike manner to think about a man in any other way like how she did.
When Sanya and Tobias reached the door to the throne room, Tobias bowed and strode off quickly, leaving Sanya to faced alone his father. Of course, why would Tobias indulge himself in her own problem? She shook her head and counted to ten as she tried to clear the visual of the man earlier, and just studied Tobias' tantalizing view of his back and the graceful way he walked. She snorted. Tobias is her mother's cousin's son.
Whoosing out of breath, Sanya motioned to the two people who were guarding the throne room's door. With a curt nod, they opened the door and she slid through.
Sanya studied her father, Count Rachberg Von Archilles. His features seemed to be patient as he waited for his daughter. The woman beside her father, Countess Dalya. Her eyes rimmed with kohl, the woman he married after a few months of Sanya's mother passed away, narrowed as it roamed over her instantly. The young woman, who was just eight years older than her and became her stepmother, slung across her chair stingily, her smooth, warm-colored skin glowing and thick, deep brown locks struggled into a sleek ponytail. Lips were rimmed with burgundy pink smirked with a fake amusement.
She was the opposite of her mother, physically and mentally.
Her father was perfection, even in his old age, Count Rachberg was cut with rugged bulk and muscle, a sculpted jaw, full-lips. His skin was slightly tanned, and his hair highlighted with streaks of naturally sun-bleached blonde. A serious predatory green eyes... where she got the color of her own irises--that only, just the color of his eyeballs. The rest of the features she possessed, were inherited from her deceased mother.
Sanya didn't bother gracing her parents with pleasantries as she hopped on to the nearest chair. None spoke, so did she.
A few moments of silence, her father sighed, "Sanya, my sweet..."
Adrenaline crashed through her ribcage and radiated out to her extremities, leaving her fingers and toes tingling. She was tired of her father's endless lectures by forcing her into a loveless marriage. An allegiance. That was all she was. A pawn. But before the Count could continue the sentence, a young man who was around five, slid through the door and his amber eyes that filled with excitement, surveyed the wide room until they found Sanya's emerald green orbs that glinted like steel.
The young man was his half-brother, Zacheev Von Archilles.
His features dilated and he ran into Sanya's direction. As soon as he reached them, he bowed deeply and acknowledged and greeted his parents, "Father... Mother,"
Countess Dalya bellowed, "Still can't tell that we are discussing business here, Zacheev?"
Sanya had never liked how her stepmother treated her younger brother. Zach was just a kid, an innocent five years old. How they disciplined Zach, more like an unearned punishment.
"No need to discuss further, as you can attest, the odds are not in my favor. Not when this battle is against my own father. Let's just not waste our time!" and with that, she hurried out of the room. Along with her holding limply on her right hand, Zacheev.
