Ink: Living Life as Serena Gleis

Chapter II: Life as Serena Gleis

As we passed by a room, my gaze fell upon Emyr, engrossed in the pages of a book, his attention unwavering. A striking resemblance to Caspian was undeniable, yet Emyr exuded an air of maturity and sternness that set him apart. It was clear to me that he was the favored son, destined to inherit the mantle of the Duchy and carry on its legacy with an iron will.

In the narrative of my book, Emyr assumes the role of the second male lead, his path crossing with the heroine's long before mine. A predictable tale, perhaps, as he succumbs to the allure of love and falls for her charms. Yet, his character takes a dark turn, driven by jealousy and betrayal, culminating in a misguided attempt to end Serena's life upon discovering her sinister intentions.

Yes. He's a doom flag for me.

It's best to not engage in any interaction with him. I will let you and your unrequited love in peace.

At last, we reached our destination, standing before an imposing door of opulent grandeur. Its massive frame adorned with intricate designs of gold and silver, exuding an aura of regal splendor. As I gazed upon its lavish embellishments, a sense of anticipation stirred within me, tinged with apprehension at the mysteries that lay beyond its ornate facade.

What a showoff.

"My Lord, we have arrived," Lucille announced before rapping on the door. With a synchronized motion, the guards swung open the massive doors, granting us entry into his domain.

As I stepped inside, my eyes swept across the dimly lit office, taking note of the clutter that dominated the space. His study table groaned under the weight of countless files and folders, a testament to the weighty responsibilities that burdened him. Despite the grandeur of the manor, his workspace exuded an air of neglect, devoid of the lavishness one might expect from a man of his stature.

He sure is a busy man.

Where did he find the time to be a bad father?

"Sit," his command echoed through the room, authoritative and devoid of warmth. As Lucille departed, I obeyed without hesitation, lowering myself to the floor, assuming the submissive posture that had become all too familiar.

Meeting his gaze head-on, I refused to cower before this man who held sway over my fate. Though fear pulsed through my veins, I masked it with a steely resolve, determined to meet his stare with unwavering defiance. If he sought to break me, he would find me unyielding.

"You'll be 14 very soon," he remarked, his tone laced with thinly veiled contempt. "It just means you'll have to go out and socialize with other people. I don't want you to bring shame upon my family."

His emphasis on the possessive pronoun 'my' did not escape my notice, a reminder of my status as an outsider in his carefully curated world. As if I harbored any desire to be a part of his family-never would I stoop so low.

"Yes, father." I replied.

"I'll lend you a room," he declared, his words dripping with false benevolence. "I've already arranged for you to be treated in the best way possible to improve your appearance."

His concern was not for my well-being, but rather for the preservation of his family's reputation. The thought of his daughter being perceived as abused, malnourished, and neglected was intolerable to him, a stain on their carefully cultivated image of prestige and power.

It's better than nothing. At least I would be able to eat properly now.

"Thank you, Father."

"Leave." He ordered.

"As you wish, Father."

I'll be your perfect little daughter, Duke.