The Surrender Of Lady Charlotte

Chapter One-3

“I see. And how does a woman of Ilusia conduct herself?”

“Submissively. I’d advise you to be compliant, observant, and resourceful. And guard against your shrewishness. That trait is not looked on favorably within our borders.”

“I will take your council, sir, and remember it well.”

The moon over Ilusia was fully round, glowing yellow at this dark time hour. With the sun set, the sky was inky black, dotted with a million stars all ominously appearing before her eyes, suggesting that the constellations might be aligned toward an uncertain mischief that would test her in ways she could not even fathom now.

“Thank you,” she added, feeling oddly nurtured by the man. His manner had been straightforward and respectful, but without any obvious warmth. Though, the very fact that he said anything at all suggested some affection, or perhaps pity. Perhaps it was nothing at all, just this stranger, Tristan’s way.

There were two more days of grueling passage before the company of seven reached the gates of Mountbane’s lair—a stately castle: grey and important, rising so high above the maid Charlotte that for the foggy gleam of morning air, she could not make out the tallest spire.

Inside the gates, Mountbane’s bride gazed on sights she’d never witnessed before. Surely, the nobleman Tristan was right. Seeing collared women wherever she turned, others tethered by their masters, led on leashes through the market, she shuddered nervously wondering if these were signs of things to come. This was not her homeland—no home at all, she thought despondently.