The Arch-Duke Hawthorne

To understand, we must first start with a story. The story of my past.  I grew up in the kingdom of Tresslar, in the city of Antromine. The population was maybe two thousand. I lived with my mother, and brother in the Coumine manor. My father’s home. He died in the war for galapsies, It was a war against the king of Gapla. He was a hero and my mother, a healer. I was a troublemaker who added many wrinkles to my mother’s face. I was happy, with my mother and my older brother, Fausta. We were sad but happy.  Not long after the war, and the death of my father, there was a fire. In an instant, my sad but happy family was gone. My mother, a pile of ash. And I, Burnt beyond repair. My brother abandoned me after the fire. I was a child. And he was barely a man. The church took me in, gave me food and shelter, but in return they took my last name. That was seven years ago.  I see my brother every year on the anniversary of my father’s death. He’d worked his way through the army and was given the title of Count Coumine. Meanwhile, I had accepted God into my heart and was being groomed to become a priestess. I was surprised when I heard that Count Coumine was coming to the church today. It was months before our yearly meeting. I pondered what reason he may have to visit his disfigured sister as I washed my body before morning prayer. As I braided my hair back I glanced over my features in the mirror. Somehow, the fire got every inch of my body except my ears and face. From my neck to my toes and finger I was covered in burns. Most of them were either dark maroon or dark beige, lighter than they were when I got them as a child. My hair was a golden orange, like the red sun. And my eyes were a dull gray, that has lost their twinkle.  I wasn’t that bad to look at. I would’ve even thought myself pretty if I wasn’t disfigured everywhere else. I exited the bathing chamber and joined the other Priest and Priestess’ in training at the altar. We kneeled before the High Priestess and prayed.  After lunch, I met my brother In a private meeting room. I threw my arms around him and exclaimed, “Brother!” He let me hug him for a few seconds before cringing away from my touch. I smiled at him before withdrawing my hands. “Sorry.” He apologized for. I put my hands behind my back before sitting down. “It’s okay. It’s a truly gruesome sight.” He looked away from me for a second before grabbing my hands. My hands were littered with scars and patches of burnt flesh. I immediately recoiled from his touch before hesitantly placing them on my lap. “Why did you come?” I asked. He flinched, despite the softness of my tone. He cleared his throat. “I have recently become acquainted with the Arch-Duke Hawthorne. He is in need of a wife, and I would like your permission to... “ He trailed off.  “You want to offer me up on a silver platter?” I asked him. “To an Arch-Duke?” I stared at him.  “Me?” I asked Incredulously. I gestured towards my body. “What makes you think an Arch-Duke would want this? Has your new title gone to your head?” I asked him. He tried to speak but I waved him off. “I think you lost you sense in the fire, Count Coumine.” I got up and turned to leave only to have my brother grasp my arm. “Just hear me out!” I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Duke Hawthorne is a great man and he would make a fine husband. You are the daughter of the hero Derelk Coumine and the sister of Count Coumine, you come from mighty blood and I’m sure the duke would be honored to marry you.” He pleads at me with his eyes. “You’ve gone mad, Fausta, and I will not listen to this nonsense any more than I already have.” I opened the door and startled.  There was a man leaning against the wall opposite me. From what I saw from my quick glance, he had blue eyes and soft-looking dark brown hair. My brother rushed to me before bowing to the man in front of me. “Duke Hawthorne, this is my sister, Stella De Beastie Coumine.” He gestured to me before glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. Duke Hawthorne gave me a once over. From the top of my sunkissed hair, down my disfigured body to my toes before meeting my brother’s dull gray eyes, a trait of the Coumine family bloodline. “I thought you said your sister was disfigured.” He looked at me confused. “She is disfigured, Duke. It’s just not as bad as before.” Ouch. Fausta must have noticed my withering look because he started backpedaling. “But that is a touchy subject, and one I’m not at liberty to discuss at this moment in time.”  Duke Hawthorne smiled at me. “Nice to meet you, Stella. I am Anthony Davious Hawthorne, you’re future husband.” I rolled my eyes. “I am not marrying you, Arch-Duke Hawthorne. I aim to be a priestess.” His grins but his eyes are cold. “I’m afraid it’s not your decision. The wedding date has been set and the church is throwing you a farewell party as we speak.” Fausta grabs my and walks us down the hall. “Your bags are packed, and you leave in the morning,” Fausta says.  “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me!” I pull my arm out of his grasp. “Until your wedding, you’ll stay at my mansion with me and Adeline.” Adeline was his wife he married a few years ago. I wasn’t invited to the wedding so I haven’t met her. “Haven’t you forsaken me enough? Why put the duke and me through this humiliation? Why do I have to leave everything I know? I gave up the Coumine name seven years ago when you abandoned me with the church. How dare you come here and uproot my life?” “Trust me, sister. I do this for you. I’m giving you the life you deserve. You may not want it now, but you’ll be grateful in the end.” I scoff at him. “Grateful? To be used as a fetus and tossed aside like yesterday's trash? What will my place be like? The disfigured wife who was tossed aside after giving the duke an heir?” I ask. “It won’t be like that! You will be respected and he will love you.” Would he? The high priestess practically shoved me into the carriage with a giant smile. “You will be happy. Truly happy.” She smiled knowingly before handing me my belongings. The Arch-Duke sat across from me. The carriage took off, shaking on the uneven road as the horse slowing moved the cart towards our destination. “I thought I was going with Fauta to his mansion?” Duke Hawthorne smirked at me. “There’s been a change of plans. You’re going to stay with me and get settled in before the wedding.” I arched a brow. “Why go through all this just to married a disfigured woman who forsook her own name? Why not marry someone with pedigree and status? Why me?” I ask him.  He mulled my questions over before he answered. “We met before, you know. When you were a mere child. Did you know that our fathers were best friends, Beastie?” He asked. “They decided that you and I shall wed when I turned twenty. They even signed engagement papers before your father perished in the war.” There was a moment of silence in the carriage before he spoke again. “It was my father’s dying wish. That I find and marry you. There will be no other, and I will love only you. I will cherish you. All I ask in return is that you give me children.” He grabs my hands and placed a kiss on each of the knuckles. I gulped. Being loved didn’t sound so bad. And I’d always wanted children. I just hope I don’t regret this.