The entire day passes rather quickly. I’m so lost in thought as I prepare dinner for my stepmother that I almost don’t hear the chime of the door.
Brushing the flour off my hands onto my apron, I twist my hair into a tight bun, so that I don’t appear too disheveled, and rush to answer.
As soon as I open the door, dread fills me when I find Mr. Malforn standing on the other side. He’s dressed in a fine, tailored coat and pants. He looms over me, his mouth spread in an overly wide grin as his gaze rakes over my form.
Remembering how he tried to touch me last time, I wrap my shawl tightly around my shoulders. The material is thin from years of use and does nothing to shield me from the cold, but at least it will cover me a bit from his lustful gaze. “Why are you here? Our wedding is not for another—”
He cuts me off. “Can a man not come to visit his future bride simply because he wishes to see her?”
My nose wrinkles as he speaks, his breath reeking of alcohol as he eyes me lasciviously.
My stepmother comes up behind me. “Mr. Malforn, what are you doing here?”
He steps forward, but stumbles slightly propping himself up on the doorframe before moving inside. “I’d like to see what I’m buying now.”
She darts a confused glance at me. “Ella is standing before you.”
“Without the clothes,” Malforn says.
My stepmother nods, and before I can respond, she waves her hand, slamming me against the wall. I whimper as I struggle against the heavy force of her magic holding me in place.
I gasp in horror when she snaps her fingers and my dress falls from my body, leaving me in only my undergarments. Malforn steps close, the stink of his heavy cologne and the alcohol on his breath clogging my nostrils as he leans in.
“Do not touch me!” I hiss.
A smirk twists his lips as he grips my chin firmly, forcing my eyes to his. “When we are wed, you will not deny me.” He curls his hand around my throat, squeezing so tight I can barely breathe. “Do you understand?”
I barely manage to nod as a tear slips down my cheek.
He relinquishes his grip and turns back to my stepmother. “See that she is ready when I come for her in a week.”
He leaves, and she releases the spell.
I crumple to the floor. I claw at my clothing, holding the fabric around my bare body as I race out the door and into the gardens, where I quickly redress. Tears stream down my face as I run for the woods, desperate to get as far away from Malforn and my stepmother as possible.
Although night has already fallen, the world is much darker beneath the thick canopy of trees. Patches of moonlight filter in through the branches, providing just enough light to guide me toward the barrier.
Before long, I notice the glow of the veil ahead. When I reach the felled trunk beside the cottage, I sit on the hard wood and drop my gaze to the ground still in shock over what happened. I lift my trembling hands out, curling them into fists and pressing them into my lap as I try to still their shaking. A tear slips down my cheek as I choke on a sob.
Of all the ordeals my stepmother has subjected me to, this was the most terrifying. When she pinned me to the wall for Malforn, I was completely at their mercy. He could have done anything he wished to me—and so could she.
A broken sob escapes me as the dark memory floods my mind. I cannot meet Ryvan like this. I don’t want him to see me crying. I stand, meaning to leave, when I hear someone approach.
