Aurora.
A light tapping at the door pulled my consciousness back to my body; my eyelids fluttered.
Is it morning already?
" Ma'am, are you awake?" A soft, feminine voice asked.
The room was dim; the morning sunlight peeked through the tall, heavy curtains. And my gaze traveled to the crystal chandelier above me.
"Urgh..." I groaned, pulling the cotton covers over my head." Go away."
"Ma'am, the time is 7:30am. We served breakfast thirty-minutes ago.
For a moment I forgot where I was; this wasn't my bedroom, wasn't my bed, wasn't my life anymore.
Breakfast? 7:30am?
My eyes flung open. Then reality rushed in. The Moore Family. The arranged marriage.
Oh shit.
I sat up in a rush, pulling the covers off my face.The tapping on the door intensified.
" I'd be there in five minutes!" I called out, my voice raspy from sleep.
" Ma'am, should I inform Mrs. Moore?"
Mrs. Moore. The woman who looked at me like a failed experiment. Her presence was infuriating.
" Sure, whatever," I muttered, though I'm not sure if she heard me.
Faint footsteps retreated away.
How did I oversleep?
After the stress of yesterday; the house tour with the quiet butler, forcing the bland meal they brought to my room down my throat.
My stomach grumbled in agreement.
I tossed off the covers, got out of bed and hurried to the bathroom.
My parents' entire house compared to this was a laughingstock; I couldn't go into details now because I was late.
I turned on the faucet and splashed water on my face, forcing my system to reboot.
My reflection stared back at me; eyes still puffy and pink, hair in a giant braid, and water dripping down my cheeks.
What a perfect morning for a comeback!
I grabbed my toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste on it with so much frustration.
As I brushed, the image of the raven in disguise crossed my mind.
Such a loser.
I spat into the sink, rinsing my mouth.
He deserves to sleep on thorns. I'd make his life hell since that's his mission with me.
Five minutes, Aurora. Don't waste it thinking of him.
Raising my arms, I took it in. Oops.
I grabbed my face wipes from the toiletry bag lying on the floor. I wiped down; I dug into the bag again, tossing my skincare products aside, and picked up my deodorant and sprayed.
Better.
I walked into the closet. The space was empty; my clothes took up little room. The Moore family had money. Real money.
What could I possibly wear?
You know what? Fuck it, I'm done trying to impress people.
Before I arrived, they had already made an impression on me. A daughter born to a man of low rank. An inconvenience to their family.
Thank God I didn't pack any of the designer clothes my father bought for me to fit in, except for the one my mother forced me to wear.
My eyes caught a sage lace dress with soft frills at the hem. Celine bought it for me when we went thrifting. I loved how it made me feel — confident, young, and free.
I took down my overnight braids on the top of my head, falling in loose puffed waves down my shoulders. It wasn't perfect, but it'll do; I drowned it in hairspray afterwards.
Applied a tinted pink gloss on my lips and I sprayed my signature body mist on my wrists,neck and behind my knees.
Finished my look with a pair of pearl earrings. Glaring at the mirror, I breathed in and out.
It's time.
I stepped into the breakfast room. It was silent.
Do they mourn every day?
Devin sat at the head of the table, his cutlery slicing into the plate of ham, poached eggs and toast, with a glass of juice beside him.
His mother was to his right, eating avocado and chicken salad with a glass of wine, sitting with perfect posture.
Both pairs of eyes looked up at me.
" Aurora," she called, her voice warm. " How kind of you to join us later."
" Good morning." I said, sliding into the seat across from Devin, meeting his gaze.
She didn't deserve an apology.
He wore a striped blue shirt and black tailored pants, his hair slicked back and beards neatly groomed.
His cold eyes swept over my dress and face. I couldn't tell what it was: surprise or disdain.
The maid, dressed in a black-and-white uniform, placed my meal before me. A granola yogurt bowl with pancakes and a glass of water.
My unfinished food last night had acted as a warning sign.
" Did you sleep well?" Mrs. Moore asked.
I nodded in response, reaching for the honey bowl.
" Aurora, darling. Perhaps you'd prefer something lighter for breakfast," she said, clearing her throat. "Too many calories can make you gain weight as a young lady."
I took a deliberate chunk of pancake covered in honey, maintaining eye contact.
" I prefer regular breakfast, not boring."
" How.... substantial of you," she said, her lips tightened.
Devin choked quietly on his juice, rewarded with a sharp look from Mrs. Moore.
" Devin seems to be amused by you." She said, her tone flat.
" I didn't know I needed permission to eat to my satisfaction." I replied, taking a scoop of yogurt from my bowl.
" You'd adjust to the household schedules," she continued." We have breakfast by 7 am, lunch at 2 pm and dinner at 7 pm. I'll urge maintaining the family's tradition."
" Interesting," I said, ringing the bell beside me for more food. " Back at home, my family eats whenever we're hungry."
The maid quickly appeared, casting a nervous glance at both Mrs. Moore and me.
Poor lady.
"More pancakes, please." I said sweetly.
Devin leaned back into his seat, studying me in disbelief.
"You're using the wrong fork." Devin stated, his voice was maddening.
My jaw tightened; I met his gaze without flinching.
Mrs. Moore wiped her lips with a napkin, turning to Devin by her side. " What plans have you two discussed for the engagement announcement?"
" We haven't had time for ourselves." Devin replied in a calm tone.
Such a liar.
" How about now?"
" I don't want to speak with her dressed like that."
" Green is a symbol of wisdom," I spat back.
" Not when you're dressed as a vegetable." He shot back, his eyes like snipers aimed at me.
I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, Mrs. Moore interrupted, her eyes glued to us as if she were watching a thriller.
" I see you two are getting along." She said, pouring more wine into her glass. "Your exclusive gala introduction is scheduled for four weeks from now. Its strictly by invitation, no smartphones allowed."
"What a charade." Devin said, rolling his eyes.
I could imagine all kinds of elite people in attendance. I had to agree with Devin on that.
"I am the host, and I've arranged short public outings for each of you to spark gossip. After the gala will be an engagement party; it'll be open to the public, and then the grand wedding. You know what this means to me, Devin."
" I won't disappoint," he said, his jaw clenched.
" Very well." She commented, facing me. " You will receive special training from a well-known finishing school director tomorrow at 10 am. I trust you'll be punctual. Miss Veronica doesn't appreciate lateness, and she's the best in the country. We were very fortunate to secure her services on short notice."
" I'm honored." I said, my tone pitching with sarcasm. Can't wait to be an accessory.
" She'll need your suggestions in getting you fit for the gala. I've approved a certain limit on your preferences."
She stood, smoothing her Chanel dress.
"You'll be called to the drawing room by Walker once she gets here. Be prepared." She added, walking away.
She left me alone with the devil himself.
Devin's phone buzzed against the table. He glanced at it, and a sheepish smile swept across his face as he looked back at me.
Dark satisfaction surfaced in his eyes; he stood, adjusting his cufflinks.
His slim-fit look was sophisticated with relaxed comfort.
" Leaving so soon?" I asked.
" If you'd excuse me, I have an appointment to meet up with." He took his phone from the table. " Missing me already?"
" Don't flatter yourself." I replied
" Yes, I would." He said with a smirk; his footsteps echoed until he disappeared in the doorway.
I stared at my food; alone in the magnificent breakfast room, surrounded by half eaten meals and empty chairs.
The maid returned, packing up the plates into a tray like basket.
" You've got fire, ma'am," her voice grave but not unkind." You'll need it in this family."
" Is that a warning?" I asked.
" Advice," she said, picking the last piece of glass." From someone who's worked for this family for thirty years. Don't let them break you. But being stubborn isn't a strategy.
She left before I could ask her name.
I gripped my fork hard; I won't let them break me.
I was going to fight.