Chapter 5 Five

Home is where the Duke of Thornvale is.

Seraphina Pov

I lifted my head slowly. “What did you say father?”

My lips parted in disbelief at the words Father had just spoken. He couldn’t possibly mean it—he couldn’t. There was no way, no possible way, that Father had truly sold me. Not to anyone. There's no way.

“I've no further explanation to give to you Seraphina.” Father let out, Gregory will walk you to your room.”

I stood still, unmoving, as the words echoed through me. It was not simply disbelief that gripped me—but terror.

The Duke of Thornvale. Now I remember where I actually heard that name from. I had heard of him, yes. Who in England had not? A man cloaked in shadows and whispers, his name uttered with unease among nobility and dread among servants. And now I, Seraphina Everleigh, was to be sent to him like a wrapped offering. Burnt offering?

There’s no way I complied. And there’s no way I’ll stand by without offending Father even more. I won’t let myself be sold off like some possession.

“No…” My voice cracked, barely more than breathing. “No, Father, you cannot.”

He said nothing, likely still wondering why Gregory hadn’t made a move to take me away.

“You cannot mean this,” I continued, voice rising with desperation. “You cannot send me away like this—to some stranger. I don’t even know who he is—”

“Seraphina!” Father snapped, his voice sharp enough to still the air. It was the kind of tone that once would have silenced me instantly.

But not this time.

There was no chance I’d stay quiet. No chance I’d stand there and say nothing. I had to protest.

The Duke of Thornvale was a tale told to frighten stubborn children into obedience. A name even the King of England spoke with caution. So why would he want to marry me?

Why?

“But I don’t know why!” I cried. “Why would a man like that want me—after what’s been said? After what I’ve been accused of? I’m ruined—”

“That is not your concern.” His voice was iron. “The arrangement has been made. You leave today.”

“Please!” My voice broke as I stepped forward, trembling. “I will marry Ferdinand—if that is what you wish. I will serve this house as a maid, as a cook, as anything—but don’t send me away. Don’t take me from Mother. From home. I’ll do anything—”

“Ferdinand,” Father spat the name, “has already petitioned for Georgina’s hand. He claims you drugged him. There's no way I thought you were innocent enough.”

My knees buckled, and I clutched my skirts to keep from collapsing. So what I saw earlier at the cliff—at our place—wasn’t a hallucination. But that realization only sank in later.

“He lied,” I whispered. “He—he lied, father please… ”

“He has witnesses,” Father growled. “You were found. There is no room for debate, Seraphina. No one in England would take you now. But the Night Court did. You should be grateful.”

The name made my skin crawl.

“Then let me die,” I whispered. “Let me rot in my chamber, cast away from society, but do not send me to that place. I know what they say of him. I know—”

“You know nothing,” Father snapped. “You know only what foolish maids whisper behind locked doors. And even if half of it were true, it is still more mercy than you deserve. He knows of your shame and still demands your hand. Do you not see? This is no punishment. It is a miracle.”

“Father.”

“There’s nothing to be done. You will go ahead and not keep Lord Greyfield waiting.”

My jaw clenched. I had never spoken to Father this way, not once in all my years, but something inside me had broken. That fragile girl, the jewel of the Everleigh household, was no more.

“I know why you're doing this,” I said bitterly to my father's uttermost surprise. “You’re washing your hands off me.”

Lord Greyfield stood up from his seat. I had forgotten he was still there, silent as stone. Now, he stepped forward, voice cool and final.

“I will not delay further. If she is not prepared to leave, I will go without her and Lord Lucien will come himself.”

Father paled. Just slightly. But I saw it.

“No,” he said quickly and then pointed to Gregory. “She will be ready. Gregory—take her. Have her dressed.”

He turned back to me, his expression as hard as iron. “Be good, Seraphina. Do nothing to shame us further. Do nothing to anger him. This is the time to put your fine upbringing to use. Show him you were raised with grace. If you displease him—if you do anything less than obey—you will bring ruin not only upon yourself, but upon all of us.”

And with that, he turned his back.

“Father!” I screamed after him, but he was already walking away.

Gregory and Anthony appeared on either side of me.

“No!” I cried, shoving at them weakly. “Please, don’t—”

But they didn’t listen. They took me gently, yet with unyielding grip, and led me through the halls I had known all my life—no longer as a daughter, but as a possession, carefully packaged and sent away.

My chamber was already prepared. The fire was lit. My maid, Anna, stood by with tear-streaked cheeks, surrounded by three other women with quiet hands and lowered eyes.

“Please…” I wept as they began to undress me, untying the gown that clung to my skin. My sobs were steady now, hopeless and resigned.

“We must make you ready, my lady,” Anna whispered through her own trembling voice. “We mustn’t anger them further.”

They worked with care. They washed the blood from my back, wincing when I winced. They combed through the tangles of my brown hair, dried it, and let it fall down to my waist like silk. They dressed me in a gown of soft velvet and lace, careful not to disturb the raw lashes beneath. A golden chain was placed around my neck, a final touch to complete the picture I had once been, before ruin.

I looked into the mirror and saw someone else.

A ghost in bridal clothing.

The door opened. Anthony stood there, gaze guarded.

“It’s time.”

Anna turned, her eyes wide.

“She’s ready,” she whispered, her voice breaking through tears. She was the one person I still had… and now I was being sent away without her.

“You have moments. Get her things. The carriage waits.”

Anna gathered a small satchel of my belongings. Then she came to me and wrapped her arms around me as tightly as she dared.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” she sobbed. “I would follow you if I could. I would—”

“I know,” I whispered, clutching her hand. “Thank you.”

But even that moment was stolen.

I was led through the halls like a guest, No one stopped me. No one embraced me. My mother did not come to watch me leave, My step brothers stood near the entrance, smug and silent.

Edward smirked as I passed. “You’re lucky someone as powerful as the Duke bothered to buy you.”

Bought me…

The servants had gathered. And as I stepped through the door and descended toward the carriage, I heard them whispering.

“They say he drinks the blood of virgins,” one murmured, glancing sideways.

“It’s said his last bride vanished without a trace,” the other replied, her eyes trailing me as I passed.

Their voices wrapped around me like smoke—thin, clinging, impossible to escape.

Lord Greyfield waited beside the black carriage.

Without a word, he took my hand and helped me in. Anna gave one final, desperate wave before slipping away.

And then the door shut.

The wheels turned, and the journey toward an unknown fate began. I looked back, watching as the Everleigh estate stood tall and unmoved behind me. The place I had once called home, where I had danced, dreamed, and been cherished, now loomed cold beneath the fading light.

I said nothing. Only the ache in my chest and the silence beside me kept me company as the road carried me farther from everything I had ever known.

Hours passed before Greyfield spoke.

“We are not far now,” he said, voice calm. “A few more miles, and we shall reach Thornvale.”

I turned my face to the window.

The trees swayed past the window, blurring together as my thoughts wandered, mostly wondering how the universe had managed to trap me in a fate like this. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking at anymore. Just trees. More trees. Then, something caught my eye.

A building.

Larger than any I had ever known. Larger than my father’s estate. Larger than the King’s palace itself. Its towers rose like black fangs against the dusky sky, cloaked in fog and mystery.

A shiver ran down my spine as the chariot ran faster towards it, towards a place I would never consider warm.

“Where is this?” I spoke for the first time since the journey began, my eyes fixed on the gloomy city ahead.

Greyfield followed my gaze and smiled. “Your home.”

“What?” I turned to look at him, startled.

“Yes, my lady,” he said softly. “Your home is wherever the Duke of Thornvale is.”