Chapter One
Abby's POV
I stood in the hallway trying to get my chaotic mind under control.
The door was slightly ajar and so, I moved closer to it. I could hear men talking inside. One of the voices belonged to my new husband, Lord Commander Abbott Raven, the second Prince.
He was back!
My heart jumped into my stomach at the sight of him. He wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of having me as his wife. What was the word he used when he was asked if he would take me to be his loving wedded wife to love and to hold for now and forever during our marriage ceremony? He said No.
Just No. He didn't use more words. Just a simple N-O.
Our marriage had been against his will and in his absence and now, he was back.
Last I heard, he had gone to the king to dissolve our marriage. That was hours ago.
And now, he was back, here in our house, behind closed door, barking orders to his men.
Why didn't he find me after to tell me the marriage was over?
If he hated me as much as he vocalized to the whole world, one would think, he would have told me right away.
I leaned closer to listen.
"Is this really necessary,Your Highness?" It was Sir Bastian.
"Yes. It is." Abbott's voice was hard. "You will stay away from the main palace. Do you understand me?"
Bastian laughed softly."You look so serious."
"Bastian!"
"Fine. I will stay away." He laughed again. "I will be in the arena."
A door opened and closed. And it was just my husband—or not my husband—and one other guard.
"Follow him," Abbott ordered. "Do not lose sight of him. Hold him back if you must, Sir Derek."
"Lord Commander, the last time I tried to hold Sir Bastian—"
"—I know it went badly!" Abbott snapped. "This time, don't be a fool and try to fight him alone. Go. And Abigail?" his voice turned cold as he turned slightly towards me "You can come in now."
I froze.
Fuck! How did he know I was standing here?
I pushed the door open. I walked in slowly, afraid to trip on my own feet.
The guard with him, Sir Derek, bowed. And I was momentarily confused. People don't bow to me.
"Your Highness… Princess Raven."
And then it hit me. It was because of him, Prince Abbott. Being his wife meant odd things like a grown man bowing to me will keep happening to me!
It was my new normal.
"Please, Sir Derek, call me Abigail," I told him.
"Do that, and I will cut out your tongue," Abbott said sharply. "Leave us."
The guard left fast. The door closed. And against my wish, I found myself alone with him.
"I don't mind if people call me Abby," I said, the words rushing out before I could stop it. "And I'm not a real princess. I am just married to you. I read the rules and it's all so…" I saw the anger in his eyes and I stopped blabbing. "Sorry."
He looked at me like I was nothing.
I held his gaze, maybe if I looked at him long enough, those frosty eyes of his will begin to thaw.
It didn't.
"The marriage is real. It stands." He finally spoke.
"It is?" I took a step closer to him without thinking. "You didn't end it?"
"Not for lack of trying.You are my wife now. You may not like it, but you represent me. You are Princess Raven. Duchess of Enoch. You are Her Highness. And you will move to the Mistress's rooms. They are—"
"—but that's so far from here!"I cried out without thinking. "How can we be married if you send me away?"
His patience broke. "I wasn't finished! You will do as I say!"
He turned to leave. A sudden, wild bravery filled me.
"Is this our life?"I asked his back. "You in your part of the palace, me in mine? You give orders, and I follow? I don't want that!"
He spun around,his eyes full of fire. "I don't care what you want!"
"Well, I won't go!" I yelled, stepping forward. "I won't be thrown away. I won't be placed in a corner. So go on! Hurt me if you want to!"
The hall went silent. Oh no. I just dared a crazy man to hurt me.
"You make me so angry!" he shouted. "You won't leave, and I won't drag you out. And I won't have you whipped for not obeying me. So I will leave."
He walked out fast.
Whipped? The word hung in the air. It couldn't be true. It couldn't.
I shook my head and ran after him into the hall.
"Do you like the color blue?" I asked, my voice too high. "The dressmaker brought dresses for the marriage celebration. There's a blue one with gold. Do you like blue?"
He stopped. He looked at me, annoyed. "Why are you talking about dresses?"
"My mother said a happy wife wears a dress her husband loves. A dress he wants to take off." I bit my lip. "But that doesn't make sense. If he loves it, why take it off…"
"Stop talking!" he yelled.
Then everything happened too fast.
He grabbed me and pushed me against the wall near a small table. His free hand smashed the vase on it to the floor. Then he kissed me. It wasn't a nice kiss. It was hard and angry. It hurt.
He put me on the broken table and forced my legs apart with his knee. His cold hand touched my leg, high up my thigh. A new, deep fear filled me.
"What are you doing?"I gasped. "Abbott?"
"It will be fast, wife" he snapped.
He moved his hand, grabbed my dress, and ripped it. The top tore open. I tried to cover my chest.
"You want this, right? You want me?!" he yelled. He turned me around and pushed me into the wall, his hands rough on my chest.
"You like this?!"
Tears filled my eyes and fell. "No, stop… please!"
He let me go at once.
I turned to look at him. His eyes were black. His face was hard. He looked like a devil.
"Why?" I cried, holding my torn dress.
"Stop lying!" he roared.
"I'm n-not!" I said, shaking.
"Stop acting like you are happy to be my wife! Stop it! You want my nephew! I disgust you! So stop!"
I cried harder. I couldn't form words. My dress was torn. I was almost naked in the hall and then, to make it all worse, I heard someone coming.
I didn't think. I jumped against him, hiding behind his body. I waited for him to push me away and shame me.
He didn't.
He looked toward the sound. "Come in here and I will have your head!" he screamed.
The footsteps stopped. It was quiet again.
I moved away, ashamed, holding my arms tight around me. He looked at me—crying, my face red and wet—and stepped closer. I moved back.
"Abby…"
"Please,stop… please," I begged.
He let out a hard breath and stepped back. Then he pulled his shirt off over his head.
Fuck!
I closed my eyes, scared of what came next.
"Open your eyes, Abby. I have no intention of carrying on"
I did. He held his shirt out to me. He wasn't even looking at me.
"Put this on," he said, his voice empty.
I took the shirt and pulled it on. It was huge on me. It smelled like him.
I cried harder. He looked away.
"Can I go?" I whispered.
He still didn't look at me. He pointed down the hall. "Go."
I didn't wait. I ran.