The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my door opening. I, groggy and disoriented, opened my eyes and turned my head to see three maids shuffling into the room. I didn’t recognize any of them, and it took a minute for me to remember where I was.

“Good morning, my lady.” One of them, a petite blonde with honey brown eyes, said – smiling.

“I hope you slept well.” The brunette of the group flashed a toothy grin.

“We’re here to dress you for your lessons.” The third – and stockiest of them all – said.

“Lessons?” I asked, yawning and sitting up. “Oh.” I mumbled. “Bridal lessons.”

“Exactly!” The blonde walked over, extending a hand to help me stand. “Let's get you washed up and ready. We don’t have much time.”

Why do all the maids say the same thing? I thought, following them to the adjacent bathing room.

They washed me quickly – far more gently than the maids at Thornevale did. I offered to wash myself a few times, but the maids giggled and brushed off the very thought. After the second time, I gave up.

Once I was clean, they walked me to the wardrobe and began to dress me in a slim-fit, off-white dress. The material was soft and thin, perfect for the increasing temperatures.

After they finished, my hair came next, followed by a light brushing of makeup. By the time they were done, I wanted to go back to bed. The entire ordeal took two hours.

Why does something so simple have to take so very long?

“Perfect.” The stocky maid clapped her hands. “Lady Matilda will approve.”

I didn’t have to ask who they were talking about. The novel never mentioned her first name, but Lady Blaine was the only suspect.

“Should we add jewelry?” The brunette asked.

“No. She doesn’t like when other women wear particular jewels.” The blonde shook her head.

“Yes, of course.” The brunette smiled, walking toward the door. “Please follow me, my lady. I will take you to your lessons.”

This is going to be a nightmare. I stood and walked out of the room – following behind her. The strong floral scent hit me the moment I stepped into the hall. I pressed a hand to my nose as my stomach began to roll. Why does it smell stronger today? Is it because Matilda is back?

Either way, the scent was making my eyes water and closing up my nose. The brunette didn’t seem to notice the change, but that could have been due to nose blindness after having worked in the estate for years.

We wove through the hallway and down a flight of stairs. At the bottom we took a sharp left, another right, and stopped before a set of large double doors.

“Please go on in,” she said, opening them and stepping aside. “Lady Matilda will be arriving shortly.”

“Thanks.” I entered the room, glancing around as the maid closed the doors.

The room itself was impressive – large circular walls made of marble, a floor shimmering under a crystal chandelier. A moderate-sized piano sat near the opposite end, and a few tables littered the floor.

“It looks like a tea room.” I said, walking over to the piano and gently touching the surface.

A strange sensation to sit down and run my hands over the keys made my fingers itch. How weird. I glanced down at my hands, curling and uncurling my fingers. Kyla never had the opportunity to learn how to play.

Then why do I have the urge to?

The sound of the door opening pulled me from my thoughts. I looked over to see a middle-aged woman in a bright green dress walk inside. Her dark brown hair was pulled back so tight that I felt bad for her head. Jewelry – of every color – sparkled on her fingertips, neck and ears. Her lips were pulled tight, and her beady eyes zeroed in on me – making her frown.

“Kyla.” She tsked, scanning my body. “Do colors mean nothing to you?”

“I’m sorry?” I blinked a few times. “What do you-”

“Who dressed you?” She cut me off and turned to the maids that stood near the entrance. “Find who dressed her at once and remind them that white is not a color.”

“Yes, my lady.” One of the maids bowed before quickly leaving.

Matilda clicked her tongue and walked over to one of the small tables, and sat with a loud sigh. “Sit down, girl.” She motioned for the chair across from her.

Can I leave yet? I thought, walking at a normal pace toward her.

“Quickly, now.” She snapped, drumming her fingers on the table cloth. “I’ll be old by the time you get seated.”

I bit back a curse that threatened to slip out, and quickened my pace. As I sat down, she narrowed her eyes again, making another noise with her tongue.

“Have you had bridal lessons before?” She demanded, motioning a maid forward. “Tea. Now.”

The maid bowed without a word and left.

“Yes.” I said, remembering the Duke’s previous words. I didn’t have any – but I knew enough from Paulita’s experience how horrible they were.

“Forget every single thing you’ve learned,” Matilda rolled her eyes. “These days girls think it’s fine to simply follow the new ways. I suspect you had training from a young noble woman.”

She didn’t let me answer and continued. “Whatever she drilled into your small, mindless skull – is not necessary in my home.”

The maid that ran out returned, pushing a tray. She set down a cup of tea before Matilda, and earned a slap when she attempted to pull her hand back.

“This tea better not be old,” Matilda sneered. “I do not like old tea, you useless maid.”

“It is fresh, my lady.” The maid looked down at her feet, face devoid of emotion. “It was made just before we left your chambers.”

“Hmph.” Matilda scoffed, raising up the cup and taking a sip. “So it appears. Be gone now.” She waved a hand in the air – interest lost.

The maid quickly set a cup down before me and walked briskly back toward the door.

“First off,” Matilda began, setting her cup down with a loud clink. “You are to obey my son. I don’t want to hear you complaining about his instructions. You are to completely without thought, obey his every whim. My son is very special.”

Yeah, I bet he is. I thought, biting my lip to keep back the words I wanted to say. Psychotic people usually are.

“Keep this in mind. At. All. Times.” She glanced over her shoulder. “And where is the book I asked for?”

“My lady?” The maid asked, a flicker of confusion passing behind her eyes.

“Need I have to repeat myself consistently to you?” She bit out. “The book by Jasephina Montiania. The bridal training book.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. I will get it right away.” The maid bowed and ran off.

“The staff here are bumbling fools.” Matilda said, rolling her eyes. “You see how they treat me? Expect far less as only a fiance. Although they are slow to understand, you may not order them around to do your bidding. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.” I said, dryly. I can see where Justin gets his attitude from.

The maid that ran off returned moments later, carrying a large, old bound book. She stopped beside Matilda, holding it out.

“Don’t give it to me, you fool.” She motioned toward me. “Give it to that girl.”

“I-I apologize.” The maid stammered, setting the book before me.

“You had better.” Matilda pushed her tea away and stood. “You will go through training tonight.” She snapped at the maid. “And you, girl, will read the first ten chapters of the book before tomorrow. I expect you to have everything memorized.”

I didn’t get the chance to respond – the woman was already at the door.

When the door closed behind her, I heard the sound of skin on skin contact. I winced and looked down at the book. That poor maid. To have to serve someone like her.

“How am I supposed to memorize ten chapters?” I mumbled, flipping the book open.

The title of the book and the date had me rolling my eyes in irritation. How to Serve Your Husband: The Maiden’s Guide to a Happy Home.

“How ridiculous.” I slapped it closed and let out a breath. “Seventy years out of date and misogynistic.”

I didn’t know what to expect for Justin’s mother, but I shouldn’t have been surprised.

Meeting her had been grating, but I knew – at the back of my mind – that this was just the start to her tyranny.