Entangled Destinies

Chapter I: Escaped

The first thing that greeted my waking eyes was the soft blush of dawn filtering through the silk drapes of my canopy bed. Even still half-asleep, I could feel the luxurious smoothness of the linen sheets beneath me. A faint scent of lavender, from the sachets tucked amongst the pillows, lingered in the air. My gaze drifted to the intricately carved rosewood furniture – the vanity table with its silver-backed brushes, the writing desk adorned with mother-of-pearl inlay. Sunlight touched the Aubusson carpet, its delicate floral pattern a familiar comfort. Though sleep still clung to me, the quiet elegance of my chamber was a gentle reminder of the life I was born into, a world of soft textures, refined details, and an undeniable sense of privilege.

I was finding a moment of peace in the quiet of my room when a sudden knock broke the silence.

"Ms. Aeliana, Mr. William and Mrs. Eleanor request your presence," a servant's voice announced from beyond the door.

A senses of foreboding settled over me. Why would my parents summon me? Hesitantly, I chose a presentable dress. I smoothed down the creases and made my way to the living room, where my mother and father were waiting, their faces grave as they spoke in hushed tones. The air crackled with unspoken tension.

As I stepped inside, a wave of warmth enveloped me, not just from the crackling fireplace but from the rich hues adorning the walls – a deep crimson offset by the glint of gold in the intricate wallpaper. Sunlight streamed through the tall, arched windows, illuminating the plush velvet of the settees and armchairs arranged around a low, polished table laden with delicate porcelain. The air hummed with a quiet elegance, a symphony of soft murmurs from unseen corners and the gentle tick-tock of a grandfather clock that stood sentinel near a towering bookshelf filled with leather-bound volumes. It was a space that whispered of comfort and quiet authority, a place where conversations of consequence unfolded amidst an atmosphere of refined beauty.

Before I could even settle into a chair, my father's voice cut through the tense silence, the words hitting me like a physical blow. He spoke of my impending marriage to the Prince of Aeridor. The room seemed to spin, the weight of his pronouncement pressing down on me, stealing the very air from my lungs. Marriage? To a prince I had never met?

"Father, I don't want to marry the prince of Aeridor!" I pleaded, my voice trembling.

"Don't be disobedient, Aeliana!" my father, William Cavendish – the Duke of Ashworth City – roared, his face contorted with fury.

"I don't want to, Father! Can't you please stop forcing me? Especially since I don't even know that prince!" Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision.

"Whether you like it or not, you will marry him, and you will live in the Aeridor palace! Don't you ever disobey me, Aeliana!" His words were like a physical blow, leaving me breathless.

I could only sob at my father's angry outburst. I couldn't understand why they needed to marry me off to a stranger. It was all for wealth and power. Wealth and power were the only things that brought my parents joy. From my childhood, they had never paid me any real attention. Money and influence were their sole obsession, and they were even willing to sacrifice their own daughter for their selfish desires. My mother, Eleanor Cavendish – the Duchess of Ashworth City – was power-hungry. She abused the citizens of our city, tormenting them to death. I longed to help them, but I was powerless. That's why so many people in our city hated me – because I was the daughter of one of their oppressors. Even the king and queen of our city were corrupt, which was why our city was suffering.

"Daughter, just listen to your father! This is for your own good," my mother said, her tone surprisingly gentle, but her eyes held a cold calculation.

"For my own good? Are you joking? For my own good, Mother? Haha, it's only for your own good!" I screamed at her, my voice cracking with bitterness. "Ever since I was a child, I could never do anything right in your eyes! You always punished me for sins I didn't commit! And now you're telling me this is for my own good? No! Because I've never been happy with your wealth!" I sobbed, and my mother's hand lashed out, striking my cheek with a sharp c***k.

"How dare you! We're doing this all for you, and you dare to yell at your father and me! You ungrateful child!" she spat, her face contorted with rage.

I continued to cry, my body shaking with anger and despair.

"Even if you kill me, from this day forward, you will never control me again! I will not sacrifice my happiness for your selfish desires!" I screamed furiously at both of them and ran out of the house. I heard my father calling my name, but I didn't look back, just kept running blindly. I found myself outside, lost in my despair, when suddenly a piece of wood struck me in the back. I whirled around to see who had thrown it. It was an old woman, her face etched with grief.

"Your family is shameless!" she cried angrily, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks. "My daughter died because of your mother!"

I just stared at her, my heart aching with pity. I knew how my mother abused the servants, often punishing them severely, even for minor mistakes, sometimes to the point of death.

"My daughter worked so hard, but you killed her!" she wailed, her voice filled with anguish.

"I... I apologize behalf of my mother!" I stammered, tears flowing freely down my face.

But she ignored my plea and called out to others, who began pelting me with stones. I had no choice but to run again. I ran for what felt like hours, their angry shouts echoing behind me. Finally, I reached the city gate – the only way out of Ashworth City and to travel to other cities. But the guards here were just as brutal, and no one could leave without the king's direct order.

Night had fallen, and I was still huddled near the gate, far from the guards' watchful eyes. I was planning to escape this city. I stole some simple clothes to disguise myself, and as the guards gradually grew drowsy, I quietly retrieved my loyal horse. I waited patiently for the guard patrolling the gate to move away so I could try to open the heavy barrier. Hours crawled by, and eventually, the guards succumbed to sleep. I crept towards the gate and carefully began to turn the crank to lift the heavy wooden beams. Just as it creaked open enough for me to slip through, one of the guards, roused by the sound as he relieved himself nearby, spotted me.

"Hey!" he yelled, his voice booming in the quiet night.

I quickly mounted my horse and spurred him into a gallop, fleeing into the darkness before he could reach me.

Hours blurred as my horse carried me through the darkness, but the path remained elusive. Exhausted, I finally stopped to rest beneath the sprawling branches of a solitary tree. The moon cast an ethereal glow on the silent surroundings, a stark contrast to the turmoil I had fled.

Lost in thought, the quiet beauty of the night momentarily soothed my troubled mind, until a loud growl from my stomach reminded me of my hunger. I scanned the horizon, but there wasn't a single light to be seen.

I sat there for what felt like an eternity, my body aching with fatigue and my stomach protesting with increasing urgency. Just when I thought I might collapse from hunger, a faint light flickered in the distance. Hope surged through me, and I immediately mounted my horse, urging him towards the distant glow.

As I drew closer, the light resolved into torches carried by a group of guards clad in striking blue uniforms. The fabric looked sturdy, perhaps a combination of leather and dyed wool, with silver fastenings and the emblem of what I now recognized as Vermilion – a stylized silver griffin – emblazoned on their breastplates. Their armor appeared functional yet distinct, reflecting a sense of disciplined order.

Wait... those uniforms... they look familiar. I've seen them in a book before. That's right, these are the Vermilion guards. Should I approach them? My stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, and my body was beyond exhaustion. I had no other choice; I had to risk it.

Cautiously, I approached the group. Swords were immediately drawn, halting their advance. I could see wounds on their faces and armor, evidence of recent battle.

"Who are you?" one of them demanded, his voice rough.

"Ah, I'm not your enemy. You can even search me; I have no weapons," I replied, trying to sound non-threatening.

"If that's true, then who are you?" he pressed.

One of the guards, whose attire was slightly more ornate, suggesting a higher rank, stepped forward.

"Ah..." My mind raced, searching for a plausible explanation. I couldn't reveal my true identity. If they knew I was Aeliana Cavendish, they would surely send me back to Ashworth City.

"Ah, I am Aelia de... Mon... Montagaine," I stammered, inventing a name on the spot.

"Aelia de Montagaine?" he repeated, his brow furrowed.

"Yes," I confirmed, hoping I sounded convincing.

"Where are you from? Why are you out here?" he continued his questioning.

"Ah, are you from Vermilion?" I asked, feigning ignorance, even though I already knew the answer.

"How did you know we were from Vermilion?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Ah, I just read about your uniforms in a book. So you're from Vermilion, right?" I offered with a nervous smile.

"What do you need?" he asked, his tone still wary.

"Ah, nothing much. I'm just hungry. Could I possibly ask for a piece of bread?"

He retrieved a large loaf and a waterskin from their supplies and handed them to me.

"Thank you!" I said gratefully, immediately tearing off a piece of bread and devouring it. As I ate, the higher-ranking guard spoke again.

"Where are you headed?"

"I... um..." My mind went blank. I didn't know anything about the people of Vermilion, but I had no better option than to stick with them.

"I was hoping to go to Vermilion to visit a friend, but I got lost. It's my first time traveling here since we parted ways," I lied, hoping my story held up.

"Who is this friend?" he inquired.

"Ah... I... I can't quite remember her name, but I remember her face," I stammered, my lie feeling flimsy.

"Perhaps you're the one Prince..." he started to say, then trailed off.

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

"Ah, nothing. Just come with us to Vermilion," he said, his tone now more neutral.

"Really?" I asked, surprised by his sudden change of demeanor.

He simply nodded and turned to lead the way. I took hold of my horse's reins and followed him.

As we walked, a thought suddenly struck me. "What's your name?" I asked

He didn't turn around. "Henry," he replied curtly.

"Henry? That's a nice name! You're a Marquis, right?" I blurted out.

He stopped abruptly at my question, his back still to me. "How did you know that?" he asked, his voice sharp with suspicion.

"Ah..."

He turned, his expression unreadable. "Yes, I am a Marquis! You're quite the guesser, aren't you?" he said, a hint of something I couldn't quite decipher in his tone.

"Ah, I just read it in a book. That kind of attire is worn by Marquises," I explained quickly, hoping to dispel any suspicion.

We traveled for several more hours, and in the distance, a warm glow began to illuminate the horizon. We had arrived at the city of Vermilion. As we approached the gate, Henry signaled to one of the guards stationed above, who promptly began to crank open the heavy wooden doors. Once the gate was wide enough, we walked through and into the bustling city.

Stepping inside Vermilion was like entering a different world. The houses glowed with warm light, and children played in the streets even though it was late. It was a stark contrast to the silent, almost desolate atmosphere of Ashworth City. Here, colorful lanterns floated into the night sky, and laughter echoed through the air. A vibrant energy pulsed through the city, and I realized there must be some kind of celebration taking place. The sound of music and cheerful chatter drifted from various corners, creating a festive ambiance.

My pleasant observation of the lively city was interrupted when Henry spoke, his voice matter-of-fact. "Well, is this where you'll be stopping?"

"Yes, this is it. I'll start looking for my friend here. I'm sure I'll recognize her when I see her, even if I've forgotten her name," I replied with a nod, trying to sound confident.

"Alright then, we'll be going," Henry said, and he and the other guards continued on their way.

As I walked through the heart of the city, a delicious aroma wafted through the air, drawing me in like an invisible string. I followed the scent until I found myself standing before a small stall selling steaming hot xiao long bao. My stomach rumbled in anticipation, but I could only inhale the savory fragrance, knowing I had no money to buy any.

"Are you going to buy some, dear?" a kind-faced old woman asked, noticing my lingering gaze.

"Ah... no, thank you," I said, trying to sound casual despite my intense craving.

Just then, my stomach let out another loud growl, betraying my polite refusal.

"Your stomach doesn't seem to agree! Are you sure you don't want to buy any?" she chuckled.

"Ah... no, really. I don't have any money with me," I confessed, my cheeks slightly flushed.

My stomach continued its insistent rumbling.

"Well then, you should probably move along, dear. You might be blocking potential customers," she said gently.

"Ah... I'm so sorry," I mumbled, stepping aside to give others space to approach the stall. I stood there for a few more moments, the tantalizing smell still filling the air.

"Hmm... here, take one," the old woman said, her eyes softening with a hint of pity.

"Ah... me?" I asked, pointing to myself in disbelief.

"Yes, you. Go on, take one," she insisted with a warm smile.

"Oh! Thank you so much!" My face lit up with gratitude. I quickly took a delicate dumpling and devoured it without hesitation, the savory broth and tender meat filling my empty stomach with warmth.

"That one's free for you, dear. But next time I see you, you should buy some, alright?" she said kindly.

"Yes, ma'am," I promised, savoring the delicious treat.

As I was finishing the xiao long bao, I heard a young woman's voice calling out to the old vendor. "Grandma!"

"Oh, what are you doing back here? Shouldn't you still be at the palace?" the old woman replied, her tone surprised.

The palace? Did I hear correctly? Her granddaughter works at the Vermilion palace?

"Well, Grandma, I brought you some food from the palace. There's a huge party going on, and it's still not over, especially since Marquis Henry returned from the war. It's a double celebration because of their victory!"

A party at the palace? And did she say Henry?

"It's the twelfth ballroom event for Prince Raphael to find a wife," the granddaughter explained.

The Prince of Vermilion is looking for a wife?

"Has the prince found someone to marry yet?" the old woman asked her granddaughter, her curiosity piqued.

"I don't know, Grandma. It seems like the twelve parties for Prince Raphael have been unsuccessful so far."

"Well, the king is forcing Prince Raphael to marry. Maybe he just doesn't like women?" the old woman mused.

Forced? It seems the prince and I share a similar fate.

"I don't think so, Grandma. He seems nice enough when he socializes with the wealthy ladies at the palace. It's a shame I'm just low-born; maybe the prince would have liked me too," she sighed wistfully.

Her words struck a nerve within me, and before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "That's not true! You're not low-born; you just don't have wealth, which is why they wouldn't want you. The power of money is stronger than love or affection."

"Who are you?" the young woman asked, startled, turning to face me with wide eyes.

"Ahmm...."

"You look familiar, have we met before?" she blurted out, a strange feeling tugging at her memory.

"Ah.... I don't think so," I replied, my voice soft and a little hesitant.

"But I really feel like I've seen you somewhere," she insisted, her brow furrowing in thought. "What's your name?"

"Ah, I'm... Aelia de Montagaine," I answered.

"Aelia de Montagaine? Are you new here?" she asked, trying to place the unfamiliar name.

"Ah, yes," I confirmed.

"In that case!......"

"Wait a moment," I interrupted, my tone suddenly earnest. "If you're thinking I'm an enemy, you're wrong. I came from another city... I'm here in Vermilion because... I'm looking for my best friend."

"Your friend?" she inquired, curious.

"I can't remember the name," I explained, a touch of frustration in my voice, "but I still remember her face." My explanation sounded rehearsed, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

"Maisie, could you help me carry these goods inside?"

The old woman voice called out, breaking the slightly tense air.

"Ah, yes, Grandma," she responded, turning towards her.

"Let me help you," I offered to help quickly.

Together, we carried the various items into their small home.

"Thank you for your help," the old woman said warmly.

"It's nothing, a small thing," I replied with a polite smile.

"Please, come inside our humble abode," the old woman gestured. "Forgive us, we're not wealthy enough to have a big house."

"Ah, by the way, I'm Maisie, and this is my grandma, Luciana," she introduced herself and her grandma.

"Ah, nice to meet you both," I responded.

"I'll prepare the food you brought, Maisie," her grandma Luciana said, picking up the basket and heading towards the kitchen.

"You're from another city, which means you're not familiar with this place?" she asked.

"Ah, yes," I confirmed.

"Who did you come here to Vermilion with?" she continued, her curiosity piqued.

"Ah... I came with..." I started, but didn't finish my sentence.

"Oh, by the way, do you have a place to stay?" she asked, noticing my earlier hesitation.

"No, not yet," I admitted.

"You can stay here with us for now, while you're still looking for your friend," she offered, picking up a book.

"Oh, thank you so much! Are you sure you trust me?" I asked, a hint of surprise in my voice.

"You seem like a kind person," she replied simply, opening her book. I smiled at her words. She was about to continue reading when she absentmindedly flipped to another page.

Wait... the sketch in the book... it looks just like me! Aeliana Cavendish! Oh no.

She glanced up and noticed me staring intently at the open page of her book.

"Do you want to read?" she offered.

"Ah... no..." I stammered.

"Do you know, you look exactly like this sketch in the book!" she exclaimed, pointing to the drawing.

"Huh? We look alike?" I asked, feigning surprise.

"Yes, you do! But you probably aren't Aeliana Cavendish because Aeliana always wears expensive clothes, and you said your name is Aelia de Montagaine," she reasoned aloud.

"That's right," I agreed quickly.

"But wait," she continued, her eyes scanning the text beside the sketch. "It says here that Aeliana has a heart-shaped birthmark on her neck." Her gaze flickered to my neck, a sudden suspicion forming in her mind.

Panic flared as Maisie's eyes widened, her gaze fixed on my neck. I instinctively reached up to cover my birthmark, but I was too late.

"That mark on your neck... it's the same as in the sketch! That means you're... you're...!" Before she could utter my name, I clamped my hand over her mouth, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Shhh! Keep it down!" I hissed. I slowly removed my hand, allowing her to speak.

"So, you really are Aeliana Cavendish?" she whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yes, it's me," I admitted.

"But... why?" she asked, her confusion evident. "Why what?" I countered, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Why are you here in Vermilion City?" she pressed, her curiosity getting the better of her.