Chapter 3

Lady Blackwell looked at me, surprise flashing through her eyes, then nodded.

"You understand what matters," she said. "Mrs. Wells."

A kind-faced older woman stepped forward. "My lady."

"From today, you'll serve Her Grace. Whatever she needs, see that it's arranged."

Lady Blackwell looked back at me.

"As for those bond papers, I'll see them returned to you myself."

I knelt on the floor, my forehead pressed to the cold tiles.

"Thank you, my lady."

After Lady Blackwell left, Mrs. Wells helped me up and poured me a cup of hot tea.

"Your Grace, what would you like to do next? I'll arrange it."

I thought for a moment. "I want to learn to read."

Mrs. Wells paused. "To read?"

I nodded.

Years ago, my mother had sold me so she could pay for my elder brother's schooling.

I often wondered, if I'd been given the chance to study too, would she still have sold me?

Over time, the thought had grown into an obsession.

Mrs. Wells quickly brought in the estate's bookkeeper to teach me, an old scholar with a pointed gray beard.

For the next few days, I studied with the old gentleman by day.

At night I slept beside Rowan, wiping him down and working the stiffness from his limbs.

People who lie abed too long develop sores.

He was so handsome. It would be a shame if his skin broke out in bedsores.

The servants in the house were respectful to me as well.

I no longer had to rise before dawn and sleep past midnight. I no longer did the rough, back-breaking labor. The food and clothes here were a thousand times better than before.

But my heart grew more anxious by the day.

Rowan still didn't wake.

And the golden words that so often floated before my eyes hadn't appeared once since I'd married into the house.

If Rowan truly died, then no matter how grateful Lady Blackwell was, I'd still be buried at his side.

I didn't want to die.

But things had gone too far to turn back.

So every night, as I wiped Rowan down, I'd lean close to his ear and whisper,

"Rowan, I'm waiting for you to wake up."

On the fifth day after I entered the house, Celeste came.

She'd come to deliver my bond papers.

The moment she saw me, she let out a scoff.

"Clothes really do make the woman. Dressed like that, you almost look like a lady."

Mrs. Wells's face darkened at once.

"How dare you! This is the regent's wife. You can't—"

I raised a hand to stop her. "Mrs. Wells, please wait outside."

Mrs. Wells looked at me, clearly wanting to speak, but in the end she lowered her head and withdrew.

The moment the door shut, Celeste slapped me across the face.

"You ungrateful thing! Do you think becoming the regent's wife makes you better than me?

"In front of me you'll always be the lowly maid who washed my feet and emptied my chamber pot!

"If it weren't for me, your mother would have sold you to a brothel long ago!"

I bore the burning sting on my face, bent my knees, and knelt.

"You're right to correct me, my lady.

"I'll remember your teaching."

Only then did Celeste's expression ease.

She lifted her chin, looking down at me. "Get up."

I stood.

Just as I had countless times before, I went to the table, poured her a cup of tea, and offered it to her with both hands.

Then I stood quietly at her side, waiting for her orders.

Celeste took the tea with satisfaction and sipped.

"Avery, remember this. Even if you're the regent's wife now, you still belong to House Langley. Understand?"

"Yes. I'll remember."

She added, "I've already asked around. Lord Blackwell will be dead within a day or two.

"And once he's gone, I'll have my father plead with the manor to send you back, so you can go on serving me."