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DRUELLA was looking into the mirror in front of her, her mother behind her fixing her hair. A daunted look was evident in her eyes, but her mother chose to ignore that—or maybe she hadn't even noticed—not that Druella could blame her. Her mother was too excited for the day.

Her betrothal day.

"All done!" exclaimed her mother, finally making eye contact with her daughter through the mirror. She put a hand on Druella's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. Her usual cold demeanor was replaced by a hint of pride in her eyes and a small quirk of her lips—something Druella would give up everything for.

Druella swallowed the sigh she was about to let out and gave her mother a small, plastered-on smile. Her blonde hair was styled into a bun, with a few strands framing her pale face. Her blue eyes held reluctance, but also acceptance.

"What am I to do?" she inquired in a soft, hesitant tone. Yet she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, as if trying to prepare for what was to come—even though she knew she would never be fully prepared.

Her mother offered Druella's shoulder another comforting squeeze, then bent slightly, positioning her head close to her daughter's as they peered into the mirror. "You and Cygnus shall converse briefly in the living room. By the conclusion of your discussion, you must both inform us of your decision regarding the betrothal," she directed in a soothing tone.

Druella opened her mouth to ask a question but hesitated. Still, she was brave enough to ask, "And if I refuse?"

Her mother's brow furrowed in perplexity, and she inclined her head slightly. "Why would you ever consider that? He is, without a doubt, the most advantageous match, and you will never find anyone better," she retorted with a touch of haughty finality. Shifting her gaze from the mirror, she turned her full attention to her daughter, delicately placing a hand upon her rosy cheek. "This decision will bring us immense pride, Druella. I have always been certain that your exceptional beauty would not be wasted."

Druella was not going to argue and tell her mother that her beauty did not dictate her marriage or future because, deep down, she knew it did.

For her, at least, it did.

Besides, she had already made sure that Cygnus would agree to being betrothed to her.

That was what her parents—her mother mostly—made her do by reminding her through their letters.

Druella's dress for the occasion was a masterpiece of pureblood elegance. Crafted from rich, obsidian silk, it cascaded gracefully to the floor, the fabric shimmering subtly with each movement. The bodice was adorned with intricate embroidery in silver thread, forming delicate, intertwining patterns that echoed the constellations of a starless night sky.

The neckline was modest yet refined, with a high, fitted collar that framed Druella's face beautifully. The sleeves were long and fitted, ending in slight points over her wrists, and the dress flowed outward into a full, sweeping skirt that whispered softly as she walked to the living room. At her waist, a slender velvet ribbon cinched the gown, accentuating her figure with a touch of opulent simplicity.

A subtle train followed her every step, adding an air of regality to her presence. Completing the ensemble were discreet yet dazzling sapphire earrings and a matching necklace, their deep blue stones contrasting strikingly against the dark silk of her dress, providing just the right amount of understated glamour.

Right outside the door, her mother offered her an encouraging nod and left.

Druella took a deep breath, then opened the door and walked in.

She closed it behind her, her gaze taking in the room that seemed more dull than usual—except the windows and curtains were open, letting sunlight flood the space.

She made her way to where Cygnus was sitting and looking at her, then sat down next to him on the gray couch.

Soon enough, he started the conversation, outlining everything he expected of her in their betrothal and marriage that would happen in the next three years—right after they finished Hogwarts.

All Druella did was nod, seemingly accepting everything.

Her gaze, however, slid to the open window, where the greenery outside Rosier Manor was visible. She wished nothing more than to run through it and leave the life she was living behind.

Cygnus was not that bad—she knew that. She accepted it. He was practically a gentleman, raised by the Blacks and their belief in respecting women but also considering themselves above them.

That was what men in the Pureblood community were told to believe.

Druella was lucky he was respectful, even though he was authoritative. Already, he seemed to be letting her know how he would take on the role as the head of the house and what he expected from her in return—children, an heir, raising their children with the same ideology passed on to them.

She could do that.

She could do all that and more.

But she wished she didn't have to.

She wished she could do that with someone she could love, someone who had her heart. Granted, she didn't love anyone yet. But she did not want an arranged marriage; she wanted a love marriage.

But Purebloods never had love marriages.

That was merely a fantasy in the novels she sometimes saw in Athena's hands.

So, she turned to Cygnus Black and nodded again.

"—and I expect you to align yourself with Riddle's beliefs. While you are aware of my part with the Knights of Walpurgis, your friends are not and do not know of its existence, and I intend for it to remain that way," said Cygnus seriously, looking at her. "If you haven't already told them, that is."

"I haven't," Druella responded honestly, her hands resting on her lap as she discreetly observed the black suit he wore, matching the color of her own dress.

Receiving a nod of approval from him, she offered a small, carefully composed smile in return.

After a few moments, the door opened, and their parents walked in. Cygnus and Druella rose to their feet, their decisions firmly resolved as their parents regarded them with eager anticipation.

"I accept," declared Cygnus Black, his hands clasped behind his back and a subtle smile gracing his lips as he met the proud gazes of his parents.

All eyes turned to Druella.

She looked back at the window one last time, letting go of the life she had desired as she turned away and announced, "I accept."

In her room, Druella took off the last piece of jewelry she was wearing afterwards—her necklace. She placed it gently on the desk, her gaze falling onto the small box in the corner. She placed a hand on it and opened it, her breath catching in her throat at the beautiful ring inside.

Her betrothal ring.

She had gotten betrothed an hour ago, signing a piece of parchment as an agreement with Cygnus and her part as his betrothed. In return, she received the ring, which she was supposed to always wear on her finger, signifying her betrothal.

It was the betrothal ring the Blacks had passed on from generation to generation. Cygnus's mother, Irma Black, had been the last one to wear it. Now, it was Druella's turn to showcase it, tying her to the Blacks in the Wizarding world.

The ring was nothing short of beautiful. It was crafted from gleaming silver, its lustrous surface exuding a subtle, refined elegance. At its center was a striking emerald, cut to perfection and set within a delicate silver prong setting. The rich green of the emerald contrasted beautifully with the cool sheen of the silver band, symbolizing both passion and purity.

On the inner side of the band, engraved in flowing script, were the words "Toujours Pur."

Always Pure. The Black family's motto.

She closed the box and put it back on the desk, her gaze falling onto her reflection in the mirror. Her blonde hair was no longer styled; it flowed down her back in waves. Druella tucked a strand behind her ear, then sat down on the chair, knowing she would fall to the floor otherwise.

Her legs could not support the weight of her heavy heart.

She released a small, involuntary sob, the sound escaping before she could fully suppress it. The sheer force of her emotions seemed beyond her control, and the silent question lingered—how could she possibly hold them back? The weight of her betrothal to someone she did not love pressed heavily upon her heart, amplifying her despair and making it nearly impossible to stifle her sorrow.

The thought of a future bound to another, devoid of the affection she yearned for, left her feeling nothing but sorrow and disappointment.

But at least her parents were proud of her.

At least her family name was not tainted; instead, its reputation rose and became purer through that betrothal.

With that thought, she dried her tears and lifted her chin.

Because Druella had finally done what her parents wanted: made them proud, elevated their status, and ensured their blood remained pure.