A year before Claudia woke to face a severed hand and a bowl of fruit, she faced an equally ornate room with a completely disparate set of worries. Twice, Claudia paced back and forth across the swirling, rose patterned rug, navigating without thought from the white divan next to the window and the red velvet chair near the door. Her hands rested in front of her as if to belie her nervousness.

There was very little Claudia could do to distract herself. When pacing failed, she put it aside. She fell back into the inaction that was all too familiar to her and sank across the divan. Her hand traced the flower patterns on the pillow as she gave in to her worries. 

Tonight was the night she was to meet her betrothed. The contract was drawn and with it her future decided. She twisted her hands around each other, not daring to wrinkle her dress. 

"Victor," she said his name to the nearly empty room.

Julien, her younger brother, looked up at her with eyes so wide they could not exist bexcept on a five-year-old. He lay on the thick, red-flowered carpet, partially hidden under the chair in front of Claudia's vanity. It was a safe corner, out of the line of sight should anyone with authority enter.

"I was going to marry you," Julien pouted.

Claudia bent down over him, her hand pressed on the brocade cushion of the chair. If she wrinkled the skirts sitting on them, who knew what her mother would do, but she longed to kneel next to him.  It was sufficient to ruffle his brown hair with her hand.

"I would choose you to live out my days with, my darling, but promises have been made."

"Did Daddy chose him?" Julien asked. How much fear that one simple word 'Daddy' held for the boy.

"That is the way of the world, my little man."

That she had not chosen Victor mattered little to Claudia. Few women she knew selected their husbands based on emotional attachment, and those that did usually managed amid scandal. She might have missed the dance of courtship, but the stilted banter and years of waiting in hopes that she would not end up alone did not appeal. Better to have it done with. So she made no attempt to fight her parents when they chose for her.

It only bothered her that she'd never seen him. Why couldn't her step-father have picked any one of the eligible gentlemen in the city? If Victor were repulsive or old, she would have no chance to resign herself before coming face to face with her fate. Perhaps then, she would displease him by showing her distaste. 

There would be hell to pay for that. 

And he would be hideous, probably a shambling monster forced by depravity to live outside the city. Why else would someone choose not to live where all the lovely parties were? So I will be sold, smiling if I know what's best for me, to a monster. 

Claudia sank to the floor and let out a short cry. It was not of despair—she lacked enough hope to allow for despair. Peevishness and discontent burned in her nerves and forced their way out in a vocal representation. She did not understand her feelings any more than she understood the chattering of the birds. Neither had a purpose. 

Julien ignored her outburst and began to play with his wooden soldiers.

Her mind veered away from fears over her spouse. Thinking was not a talent she'd ever been encouraged to develop, and her mind refused to linger in any one place no matter how fertile it was. Her thoughts moved instead to doubts about her own worth. 

I will make a good wife; she reassured herself. I am pretty, and I embroider very well. I will run a lovely household and bear healthy sons. The mantra did not cheer her. She did not believe it. There had to be more to life than that.  

Every inch of her body screamed for more. There was a hidden page to marriage that veered from the realm of housekeeping and parties. No one ventured to tell her what it was, but she knew. A wife's duties went beyond what she'd been taught. Oh, she was not meant to enjoy it-- she knew that too. Enjoying anything but God and obedience was a sin. Claudia knew, without a doubt, she would be a bad wife because she did enjoy things. She enjoyed numerous wicked little things. She only feared she would thrill in that nameless thing to and give herself away to her husband as the worst kind of sinner. 

When her governess entered, Claudia was in a proper fluster. By then, Julien had shuffled across the floor with his soldiers and was playing at war in the corner. It was only Claudia that the governess bothered to see.

With a short pause to assure neither her austere father nor frigid mother was present, Claudia leaped to her feet and cried out. "I shall run away!" 

Her governess, Dorothea, didn't pause. "Really, Ma'am. Are you quite prepared? Shall I call someone up to bring you a cup of tea?" 

"I am prepared, Dotty." Claudia sank back down in her chair. Propriety and riches hung on her like velvet ropes. Her protests didn't cause her harm let alone help free her. "Has someone seen him? What is he like?" 

"Rich, Ma'am," Dorothea said with a twinkling smile.

"Oh! But is he dreadfully old? Why must I be affianced to an outlandish orphan? Surely some local boy would have done just as well. Why must they torture me?" 

"Hush, you'll work yourself into a fit. He'll be here at any moment. Then you'll see for yourself what sort of man your parents have accepted for you." 

Claudia offered no further protest and gave herself up to be fawned upon and plucked at like a doll. She glanced in the mirror on the vanity as Dorothea's hands pulled all her loose ends into place. A surge of power woke in her as her own eyes met her in the mirror's silver face.  

Claudia was not beautiful. She was like many cultured coddled girls and gained loveliness from her surroundings rather than from herself. Her features contained no fault, but neither were they out of the ordinary. Had she been born poor, a face like hers would hardly have raised her from the gutter. It would not have won hapless hearts and given her a shot of a life beyond poverty. Claudia was not born poor, and time had only improved her circumstance. 

Fed well, dressed tastefully, provided with only the finest products for her hair and skin, there was no notable flaw to her that convenience could fix. Lack of rest or the fatigue of a hard day's work never clouded her eyes. The elements had not been allowed to ravage or age her. Because of this she'd grown into something of a beauty-- claiming what by right was not hers. 

Her brown hair was in flattering curls around her head and hung with flowers. Her large hazel eyes had the aid of kohl and self-esteem to infuse them. Her figure was suitably slight but also properly womanly. In short, she was no more and no less beautiful than she should have been.  

Looking at her soft image in the mirror, Claudia smiled. Surely such loveliness demanded some repayment from the world it inhabited. Surely she could expect some form of happiness out of life.  

When her mother arrived in the room, Claudia had nearly put her fears aside. She greeted her mother with a sincere smile. "Is he here?" 

One of her mother's eyebrows rose. "He is down with your father. You will come along now." 

Julien's hand inserted itself into Claudia's, and her fingers tightened around it. Oh, precious boy, she thought, willing him back into the shadows. The best thing for a child in this house of refinement and honor was to remain unseen. Claudia learned that lesson over and over again throughout her childhood.

"Not you, Boy," the mother said. Julien's hand slipped away, and Claudia shivered alone under her mother's wrath. "You stay here, and if I hear a peep from you tonight, you'll regret it. Come, Claudia."

Claudia meekly obeyed the command. She followed her mother vaguely aware of the perfume that wafted off the other woman. Beauty had not brought her mother happiness. Her eyes were pinched at the corners. 

The pounding of Claudia's heart demanded she fill her lungs with air. The stress of her corset against her ribs ensured that Claudia managed no more than lady-sized breaths. By the time she had descended the stairs, her face was prettily flushed and her soft breaths audible. Thus, it was in a state of flustered agitation that Claudia was brought into the sitting room and gazed upon the man she was to spend her life with. 

He stood as she entered and bowed.  

Her father introduced them. 

Claudia lowered her eyes, but the vision stayed with her. He was lovely. His light hair cut in the mode and his clothes dashing. When she looked up again, his piercing blue eyes caught hers. There was a hint of amusement in them. 

"You are lovelier than I could have hoped. I am enchanted." He took her hand and brushed it with his lips.  

"Am I a sorceress then to have enchanted you?" 

"An angel sent from God." 

She found she wanted to say his name. To taste how it had changed since she saw him. "God does not concern himself with such trivial things, Mr. Varon." 

"You must call me Victor, and who are you to judge what God does? This is highly heretic of you. Shall I call you Claudia??" 

Claudia smiled. She knew herself to be charming, and it didn't bother her a bit to charm this man. "I think you have that right." 

"He does at that," her mother put in. Her mouth was tight. The harsh voice did not disturb Claudia. 

God favored her minimally or else he would have made her lovely. Poor Mother, God has led you to only bitterness, but not me. This man is proof enough. My beauty and God's grace shall lift me from this place, and I shall never return. 

"Ah, but do you wish it, my lovely girl?" Victor said intruding on her thoughts. She'd thought he'd be drawn off by the others. Hadn't they had interacted as much as was proper? But it seemed not because he was still beside her. It took her a moment to remember what he was referring to. 

"If it pleases you." 

"It does." 

"Then you must." Claudia lowered her bright eyes. 

"What an obliging mood my daughter is in," her father said. "Shall you oblige us with something else?" 

"Of course, Father, what is it you wish?" Claudia answered. It was a rote response. There was no other option. Obedience was demanded not asked. Even so, soon she would not have to obey him, her mother, or even the governess that she and her younger brother shared. Soon she would know freedom. A husband was only one person to obey, and he could not be there to command her at all times. Her impending freedom made obedience now far less tiresome. 

"We will need some entertainment until your elder brother arrives. I am certain that in the interim Mr. Varon would enjoy some music." 

Claudia nodded and swept over to the piano. Victor followed with an offer to turn the pages. He will take me away from here, Claudia thought, and a lovely smile touched her mouth. I will never be fool enough to return as my brother does. 

She had never understood why her elder brother, Roderick, ever returned to them. He had a wife and family of his own. He was master there, why return to where he was only the slave to the whims of another? And why return to these people even if you liked to be ruled? Claudia had no liking for her parents and in the fashion of one who dislikes, she was skilled at overlooking their virtues. Mostly though she overlooked her parents entirely just as they overlooked her. 

Claudia played well, and she was familiar enough with doing so that she filled her mind almost entirely with other things. Victor's ringed hands moved the pages, his fingers soft and uncalloused.  Her father's teeth clinked against his glass at regular intervals as he steadily drank. Her mother's still, hungry gaze chilled the back of her neck. She knew the moment her brother's bulk came to rest in the doorway. She sensed him surveying everything.  

Her hand faltered when Roderick's gaze moved over her. She hated him without the vagueness that went with her distaste for her parents. Where her parents were only detached, disapproving and domineering, Roderick was actively vicious. Since she'd arrived in this house at five years old, the fear he would creep into her room and strangle her as she slept haunted her. That their parents actively loved him only added to her almost physical revulsion at his presence. 

She finished the song she was playing and then sat back. A sidelong glance at Roderick placed his bulk across the room from her. He remained in the doorway, his shoulder pressed into the door frame. In fascination, Claudia watched as a rat scuttled by behind him, hurrying across through the hall to a safe hole somewhere.

For a moment, Claudia felt as she had felt at six when she came across Roderick and one of his nasty friends skinning a rat in the wine cellar. It was alive and squirming in his grip, its vicious little teeth trying desperately to find flesh. Fur along the rodent's middle was peeled back. Roderick had looked up at her and laughed, the blade in his hand dripping onto his fingers. A small pile of critters lay at his feet nothing more than a mound of flesh.

The rat in his hand had squealed. Looking at Claudia; Roderick had said "Look, another rat. I wonder what her screams would sound like."

"Little girl, you are marvelous," Victor said. Claudia had forgotten him under the malicious glare of Roderick. 

Claudia blushed. She took the hand he offered and stood up from the piano. "If you wish I will play another, but I beg you let me get a drink first." 

"Yes, it must have been a trying day for you. I loathe to think I've caused you any anxiety. A girl like you is meant to smile." 

Claudia smiled but inside she was merely waiting for him to finish. She was thirsty.  

"Allow me," Victor offered and went and poured her a glass of water from a pitcher. Then he brought it to her, and she fastened her fingers around it. His nearness struck her, and she looked up at him realizing for the first time that despite all his beauty, he was still a man. He was of that great outer world that she had never been allowed more than a brush with. Suddenly he was more interesting than the water.

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