My Mate From Another World

CONVINCING HERE FATHER

Long before the sun cleared the distant mountain crests and forest treetops, Mary crept quietly through the silent, dark halls of the mansion. Her aged joints ached with every step, but a fierce anger burned hot in her chest. She had raised Emily since she was a toddler, holding her through night terrors and protecting her from the worst of the family's malice. She couldn't sit back silently and let Frederick sell off his late wife's only living child to an utter unknown.

She reached the heavy wooden door of Frederick's private study and knocked three times, firm and resolute.

"Come in," Frederick’s deep voice growled from inside.

Mary pushed the heavy door open. Frederick was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, bathed in the soft amber glow of a single brass lamp, scanning financial ledgers. Papers were stacked neatly around him, detailing declining assets and mounting debts. He pulled off his wire-rimmed reading glasses, his brow furrowing into a deep scowl when he saw who it was.

"What is it, Mary? It's far too early for this. I have work to attend to."

"It's about Emily," Mary said, stepping into the room and closing the heavy door softly behind her. "You cannot do this to her, sir. She is just a child! You are handing her over to a complete stranger, a man none of us know anything about! What kind of father sells his daughter off without a second thought?"

Frederick stood up slowly, placing his broad hands flat on the desk surface and leaning forward. His shadow stretched long and menacing across the wall behind him. "Emily is entirely useless here! She sits in her room, crying and brooding, entirely incapable of managing her own life. I am doing what must be done to secure her future! And frankly, it saves this family from financial ruin."

"That is a lie and you know it!" Mary revolted, her voice rising in bold defiance. "You treat her like a prisoner because looking at her breaks your heart! She has her mother's face, Frederick! You punish her every day because she survived that terrible night and her mother didn't!"

Frederick’s face flushed an angry, mottled red. He slammed his heavy fist onto the wooden desk, rattling the bronze pens and sending a heavy glass paperweight sliding across the surface.

"Do not speak her mother's name in this room!" he roared, his voice terrifying in the small, contained space. "You are a servant, Mary! Know your place! Emily will marry this man, and that decision is final! Her opinion does not matter, and neither does yours!"

Outside in the deep shadow of the corridor, Emily stood frozen. She had been on her way down to the mansion's main library to find a book to distract her mind, but the raised voices had stopped her cold in her tracks. Hearing her father confirm her absolute worthlessness felt like a physical knife twisting deep between her ribs. Her knees buckled under her weight, and she had to clutch the cold stone wall just to stay upright. The air in the hallway felt icy, pressing against her skin like winter frost.

"What is his name?" Mary asked softly inside the room, her trembling voice crackling with genuine heartbreak. "At least tell me who is taking her away. Give me that much so I know what she will face."

Frederick hesitated for a long moment, a strange, unreadable shadow passing over his stern features before his expression locked down once more. "He will arrive for dinner in two weeks. The wedding will follow shortly after. Prepare her, Mary. And tell her to stop acting like a victim. She is going to a life of luxury she doesn't deserve."

Emily didn't hear the rest of their conversation. She backed slowly away in the dark hallway, silent tears trailing down her pale cheeks, and ran toward the one hidden place where she knew she could hide from the rest of the world. She stumbled down the corridors, her hands tracing the walls to guide her in the dim light, needing to escape the suffocating walls of her father's home.