Miranda's eyes met Trista's in the mirror, "A little tighter, Trista," she said with an even tone. She was trying to be more calmer.
Trista's hands moved, clutching the corset tighter as the satin and the lace dug into Miranda's skin. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed at her reflection.
"Is this okay Miss Everard?" She asked.
"I'm quiet sure it'll rib my stomach into pieces if I go on further, this thing." Miranda cursed under her breath, but still allowed Trista to tighten her corset.
It was her wedding ceremony. After all.
How she wished her parents were there. But she knew how well they respected the tradition and thus why she was going to marry without them being there.
When Trista finished, Miranda stood up and her gown rustled around her.
The door opened, and a servant entered, announcing the arrival of the carriage and that's when Miranda's heart sank. It wasn't like she didn't want to marry. But seeing his face each and every day would definitely be a torment on her part.
With a quiet nod, she followed the servant with her heels clicking on the floor as she made her way towards the carriage. She stepped into the carriage and the door closed behind her.
While the distance was getting shorter and shorter, Miranda placed her hands on top of her thighs nervously. She gazed out the window, watching as the familiar streets passed by.
It felt like a while then a church came into her view.
Miranda's thoughts turned to one person, his face etched in her mind like a shadow.
She remembered the way he smiled and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. But she also remembered the pain,the heartache, and the betrayal.
It burned.
It tasted of bitterness. And it spilled into hate, which had always remained engraved in her heart.
The carriage slowed before it came to a stop in front of the church. Miranda's heart sank and her palms growing damp within her gloves. She took a deep breath, the corset constricting her lungs, and reached for the door handle.
The door opened, and a footman stood just outside. Her gaze met his, and she smiled and took his hand, stepping down from the carriage onto the stone steps of the church.
The doors swung open, and the sound of murmuring voices filled the air. Miranda's eyes went into the crowd, her gaze locking onto the figure standing at the altar.
Lord Herschel's eyes immediately met hers, and for a moment, time froze. She breathed out deeply, taking the first step inside while not looking away from him.
Her steps seemed to falter as she approached him and once she was closer, he reached out for a hand and she looked at him for one more moment before she placed her gloved hand on his palm.
Once their hands touched, a spark of electricity ran through Miranda's body, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.
Lord Herschel's eye fell into hers, but Miranda's gaze remained steady with composure.
The priest cleared his throat and began the ceremony, and Miranda's attention turned to the words, the vows, the promises. She repeated them as they played in her mind.
She still remembered all the words. How could she ever forget about the promise of comfort and protection when he failed to keep his words?
Lord Herschel's grip on her hand tightened, his fingers intertwining with hers, and Miranda's heart beat hard against her chest. Emotions played within her.
Resentment and longing.
She gazed up at him, her eyes meeting his.
For a second, she saw the man she once man fell in love with.
We're entering the new chapter, Maverick De Montfort. Lord of House of Herschel.
But fate will always lead to blood, isn't it?
There's no hope for us.
There's never a happy ending for this beginning.
Not when it started with betrayal, manipulation, lies, secrets, and hate.
So much hate.
Miranda's gaze dropped, her eyes focusing on the floor as the priest continued to speak.
Once the ceremony closed, Lord Herschel's voice whispered in her ear, "My dear, you look beautiful."
Miranda's smile was automatic, a polite curve of her lips, as she replied, "Thank you, Lord Herschel."
"We're now married, you should be calling me 'My Lord'." he sounded smug enough.
Miranda snorted, letting him lead him towards the dance floor for their first dance.
They glided across the dance floor as music played. His hand fell on his waist like magic, like it was a very familiar gesture while her hand found his shoulder.
"You're as stubborn as ever, I see,"Lord Herschel whispered, his breath tickling her ear.
Miranda's smile remained, while her eyes flashed with annoyance. "I'm playing the part, My Lord,"she replied, her voice laced with sarcasm as she swirled away from his arms, coming back with a determined expression.
Lord Herschel chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I look forward to seeing more of your intriguing personality, sweetheart."
Her heart skipped a beat, she breathed out. "Why are you calling me that?"
He smiled, her lips finding her ear. "Because you're mine. I can call you whatever I see fit."
She found his eyes, "I'm not an object."
"We married, you're mine." He muttered. "I didn't say that because I thought you were an object. You're far more than that."
She almost fell for it.
The sweet talking.
She fell for it once though, he was just too hard to resist.
But then, he thought it was all true and he was in love with her.
What a fool I was.
The music slowly came down, and their dance came to an end.
"You would never fool me, Maverick De Montfort." she said, turning and walking away from him.
Laughter and music filled the air and Miranda was immediately swept into a sea of familiar faces. They were all smiling and congratulating her on her marriage. She smiled, as noble as she was.
She scanned the room, taking note of Lord Herschel's allies and acquaintances. She recognized a few of them, remembered their faces from past gatherings and events. There was Lord Thomas, a close friend of Lord Herschel's, and Lady Elizabeth, a distant cousin of the Herschel family.
Getting Lord Thomas on her good side was going to be in her favor. So she thought of doing just that.
Miranda smiled warmly as she greeted Lord Thomas, "Lord Thomas, what a pleasure to meet you," she said, extending her hand.
Lord Thomas bowed low over her hand, "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Herschel," he replied, his voice charming. "I must say, you look stunning tonight. Lord Herschel is a lucky man."
Miranda laughed. "Thank you, Lord Thomas," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm afraid I'm still getting used to being called Lady Herschel, though."
"You will eventually get used to it, My Lady." he said, "I should invite you to lunch sometime with my family."
Miranda smiled. "I would really appreciate that."
Her gaze wandered to Lady Elizabeth who was standing nearby, watching her. Miranda excused herself from Lord Thomas and made her way over to Lady Elizabeth.
"Lady Elizabeth, it's lovely to meet you," Miranda said, smiling warmly. "I've heard so much about you."
Lady Elizabeth's eyes narrowed slightly, but she smiled politely. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Herschel," she replied. "I'm afraid I haven't heard anything about you."
"It's only natural, I've just arrived in the city." She took a glass of wine from the table and turned to look at her once more. "I don't know anyone around here, so I hope it won't be a bother if I ask Last Elizabeth to show me around."
Lady Elizabeth smiled curtsey. "It wouldn't be a bother. You've married my cousin after all. So we're practically family."
Just as Miranda was about to respond, a sudden commotion erupted at the entrance of the hall. The music stopped, and the guests parted to reveal a tall figure standing at the door.
"General Zekiel," someone whispered, and a murmur of unease filled throughout the hall.
General Zekiel's eyes locked onto Lord Herschel, and he strode towards him. "Lord Herschel, I have a warrant for your arrest," he declared with a clear voice. "You must come with me."