Night One, Intro

The carriage lurched and rocked over the deep rivets carved into the washed-out road. Elizabeth gripped the door and glared at her mother across from her.
“I just don’t understand how exactly a man living out in the middle of nowhere is going to help me become a better bride for Byron. He’s never left his castle and no one even knows what he looks like, how is he supposed to teach me anything about social conducts? Or even being a wife? He’s never been married!” Her mother, the duchess of Rochester, clad in layers of golden chiffon and deep red velvet, gave a deep sigh.
“We have gone over this. Byron’s family is as old world as they come. They believe in a world that is soon to be a distant way of life and it would be improper of us to send you to them in such a, liberated, sense of self.” She said carefully. Her daughter was wild right from the womb and quickly growing into an iconoclast amongst her peers. On her 19^th birthday she is to be wed to the heir of a grand and old estate with ties running deep into the politics of other countries.
“It seems like a terrible idea to me. You may as well let me ruin this arrangement on my own. Of course, the blame wouldn’t entirely fall on me then, would it? If this man turns out to make me even worse?”
“He won’t Elizabeth. He is a proper and old-world gentleman. I’m sure he has very good reason to not socialize with the aristocracy, considering the state of things. He may just be disappointed and I wouldn’t blame him.” Her mother had an oppressive way of being overly optimistic in the face of adversity, and it drove Elizabeth crazy. For once she wished her mother would learn to have her own opinion of things and stop trying to harmonize every opposition.

The heat gathering in the carriage made them both increasingly sweaty and irritated, and the conversation was stiff and minimal until their arrival at the castle. Elizabeth stared in awe as they approached the grand fortress. It towered high into the blinding sun and seemed to stretch even deeper into the dark forest and mountains surrounding them.
As soon as they opened the carriage door the cool air hit them in a refreshing burst.
“My, it’s like a different climate all together here!” her mother exclaimed, elated by the relief. Elizabeth was still taking in the magnitude of this place, turning in circles looking at the intricate metal work on the fences and gargoyles. The driver, Henry, stepped down from his bench and looked around in as much awe.
“My!” he said. “I wonder who maintains this estate, isn’t he living here alone?”
“Clearly he isn’t.” the duchess said. “But perhaps he could send someone out to help us unpack!” She seemed annoyed already. She had been used to getting waited on hand and foot from the moment she made an entrance. One thing she couldn’t stand being was patient, and her foot began to tap immediately. “I suppose he wanted us to just walk up on our own then, or he has forgotten that we were coming!”
The marble entrance was a gothic masterpiece, though it too seemed vacant in the dim light of a few torches. The grand sweeping staircases led to a dark balcony where a master might meet his guests for a grand occasion, but this was no cheerful place such an eloquent event. They stood in silence. Elizabeth squinted into the dark, she began to make out a figure standing at the top of the balcony and it made her feel uneasy. Henry awkwardly lugged her giant trunk through the hall and stopped just behind them.
“Gracious me, I think were at the wrong estate!” A cold gust of air came from the darkened doorway to their left. Elizabeth turned and jumped at the sight of a tall man approaching them silently. She heard her mother stammer.
“L-Luca! Count Luca what a pleasure it is to finally meet you.” She gave a deep curtsey. Elizabeth was frozen in her place. The man stepped in front of them and the dim light illuminated his features. He was exceptionally tall and broad in the shoulders. He wore a long cape with a pointed collar, a noble man’s garb from long ago indeed, and his long silken black hair fell past his shoulders. He had light hazel eyes which pierced her gaze beneath angled eyebrows. His mouth was almost a scowl fashioned with a sharp goatee. Elizabeth managed to break the powerful eye contact and look to the floor, giving a small bow.
“You must forgive me.” He spoke lowly. “I must admit I was caught off guard by your arrival. I was expecting you a few days from now… but it is I who is at fault. Please, follow me.” They trailed behind him through cold and dark halls into a dining area. The castle was indeed very old and fashioned as it would have been a hundred years ago, yet it was polished and cleaned as if scrubbed down moments before they walked in. Drinks sat already poured at the table and a cart had been rolled in with lunch sitting ready to be eaten. As they settled into the chairs, her mother began to speak to him in length, but he didn’t seem to be hearing a word she was saying. He seemed in a daze. Elizabeth had been shaking to her core from the moment they walked in. She would have to live here for weeks alone with this dark and brooding count. She thought of how she could convince her mother to stay at least one night with her, she thought of falling to her knees and begging her to take her home.

She had never been so terrified before. She felt like last brick had been laid to seal her into jail for the rest of her life. She had imagined an old man with waning health who would reteach her everything she already knew, someone she could charm and convince him that she was already the girl Byron needed and would send her home early. She had always been good at manipulating people to free her from duties, but she got the overwhelming sense that this count was not like anyone she had ever met before. He was otherworldly, stern and serious, someone you would never cross.

Evening came quickly. The day was spent walking the gardens and touring the main rooms which Elizabeth would soon be all too familiar with. As her mother kissed her goodbye, she gave her a knowing and sympathetic look. All the while she was there, the count barely spoke. He even made her mother nervous, which only made her talk louder and faster. He stood at the mouth of the dark castle as Elizabeth said her goodbyes. In a low whisper, she pleaded to her mother, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Pull yourself together! This is only for a few weeks. If you are a fast learner he may send for Henry early, but you must be good. Do not talk back, do not wander off, and certainly do not refuse him.”
“But mother, he terrifies me! He seems so mean and rude!” She shushed her.
“He and Byron’s parents have a lot of history together. If you can handle your time here you can handle living with them! Their manor will be no different.” She gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and stepped into the carriage. She gave a big, fake smile to the count and waved as if saying goodbye to a dear friend. “Be good my dear.” She said, and Elizabeth watched as they rode off. For a moment she wished she had her mother’s way of pleasing people. She took a deep, jagged breath and wiped away her tears. It was time to face him alone.

She climbed the stairs back to the tall wooden doors where he stood.
“Your mother talks a lot.” He said with a sigh. Elizabeth met his gaze, surprised by his comment. He seemed more relaxed than he did when she first arrived.
“She does, especially around new company.”
“You don’t though. I haven’t heard you say word since you arrived. Are you nervous?” She nodded.
“I didn’t mean to be rude, but I must admit that I am. I was told that your family is very old-world… I wasn’t sure what to expect when I met you.” They wandered into the castle together and he began leading her to her chamber as they spoke.
“And how have I compared to your expectations?” Elizabeth began to tremble again. She wasn’t used to having to choose her words so carefully around someone before.
“I suppose I was imagining an old man with glasses and a long beard.”
“And here you are with his grandson.” She couldn’t tell if he was trying to joke or not. “Tell me, why is your family sending you off to be married to Nicholai’s son, a reckless boy who can hardly read.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The boy is a dense as they come. He hardly has any manners and has refused schooling since he was 12. He is a pure nightmare to behold.” Elizabeth hadn’t even met Byron, they communicated only through letters in which they exchanged friendly, boring banter about their daily life. Elizabeth had imagined him as a flat character, but never uneducated. His letters were well written and proper.
“But I don’t understand, aren’t they wealthy? Wouldn’t it make sense that he would have only the finest education?”
“Oh yes, they are vastly wealthy, but they couldn’t raise any of their sons. Their nannies and maids are old and dying, but Nicholai refuses to hire help outside of the families who have been with that house for generations. He’s convinced himself that the rest of the world is going to hell for breaking away from the old ways, so he’s shutting everyone out.” Elizabeth had heard rumors of the estate not being as well kept as it used to be, but rumors were just rumors and she knew better than anyone that people liked to talk ill of what they didn’t understand.

Her room was as dark and haunting as the rest of the castle, with no curtains drawn nor mirror to reflect the few candles light flickering in the darkness. The castle was unusually cold for July. Elizabeth felt a near chill at the entrance to her new sleeping quarters.
“I hope this room suits you. You father has arranged for a few gatherings here at my castle, where you will meet noble men and women much like Nicholai and Catherine. Our goal is to get you accustomed to the manners you should have while speaking to them, and I will teach you how to discuss politics and literature with them.”
“Well, I certainly would like to get a start on things, what would you recommend I read tonight?” She said sweetly. She was thinking that her plan may not be spoiled after all.
“You may read, but there isn’t much time for us to go over every bit of material. I have notes on those books which you should be studying instead. I imagine you could get through at least one tonight if you were so inclined, though I’m sure you would like to rest after your long journey."

"Oh no, I'm feeling quite refreshed actually. Your castle is quite cool."

"Mmm... yes. Its a clever old design. I'll send for a servant to bring dinner to your room. My notes are on the desk, start from the top and work your way down. We'll talk about it in the morning." He slipped out of the door, closing it silently behind him.

"Goodnight, Count Luca." Elizabeth called out, but he didn't answer. She didn't eve hear him walk away. She peeked through the keyhole to make certain.

The notes were old and musky, and the old script which it was written was hard for her to read, but she soon began to make progress through the dull material. Her head was heavily resting in her hand and she was nearly half way through when a sharp knock snapped her out of her daze.

"Yes, come in!" She stood quickly to see who it was. A lady entered who looked to be in her mid forties, pushing a cart with covered dishes. She gave a small bow.

"I'm Heidi, miss Elizabeth, and I am a servant for Luca. Is there anything you need from me?" She sounded friendly and was very pretty, with silvering black hair pushed back from her heart-shaped face and pale skin like the count's.

"Nothing I can think of, Heidi, It's nice to meet you. Thank you." She nodded and left the room. This time Elizabeth listened, she could hear her footsteps as they disappeared down the hall.