Serpent Thorns

Chapter Two

My steps faltered as I was broken from my train of thought. I whipped my head to the right as I witnessed a thin woman slowly descend the stairs down to the foyer. Beautiful was not the right word to describe this woman. She was ethereal. She was pale, her skin shining brightly in the lifeless room. The woman was dressed in a light grey gown that seemed to float with her down the stairs. Her hair cascaded in soft waves down her back before stopping mid-waist. Despite her harsh words, her face appeared to be kind with her light eyes showing a tinge of curiosity.

Meeting the woman's eyes, I quickly dipped into a formal curtsey; nearly embarrassed I had not done so earlier. "I apologize for overstepping my orders. I had gotten distracted by the estate." I cringed at my words, despising how formal and empty they sounded against my ears.

The woman stopped at the top of the stairs as she eyed me carefully. As I met her gaze, I realized she had soft freckles that splayed across her nose. The little details added to the already feminine appearance. Suddenly, I felt inferior as I stood before this goddess of a woman.

A small tug of her lips washed over her features as she watched me. "Ah, you must be the woman we are expecting. Mistress Solandis, is it?" Her voice was soft against the heavy sound of rain coming from outside.

"Yes, m'lady."

Just as the woman opened her mouth to speak, she suddenly went stoic with her hands placed gently in front of her. Heavy footsteps began to descend from the stairs where the woman once stood. My gaze met the man's as he eyed me mischievously. The second his eyes narrowed, I realized that he was the older son from the portrait behind the young woman in front of me. He appeared to be amused as he looked me up and down before standing next to the young woman. He placed his hand on her lower back and she seemed to flinch by his touch.

"Welcome to the Starling estate Mistress Solandis. I see you have met my wife, Alora Starling. I am Rowan Starling, the eldest of the Starling children."

Rowan approached me slowly as if stalking prey. He smirked as he picked up one of my fiery locks and took in my appearance. I wore a velvet gown of navy fabric with petite cap sleeves. The fabric hugged my waist in a manner that felt uncomfortable with gold embellishments lining the seams. The gown split just below my hips, revealing a white satin underlining. It felt plain despite its adornments against Alora's beauty.

Rowan let go of my hair and wiped his hand on his jacket as if I were a disease that shouldn't be touched. "You will have to do for my dear brother," he walked back towards Alora, "although you do not hold the beauty of a true Starling." Rowan chuckled softly as Alora averted her gaze to the floor. "Although, I guess he should be lucky he will have a wife at all."

I could feel my anger start to simmer. True beauty? Am I a last resort to this family? In an act of defiance, I raised my chin just a tad higher. I will not let you see me crumble. I've known for nearly the entirety of my life that I am not the 'standard' of beauty. Instead of the romanticized brunette or blonde hair that simulates sunshine, I possess strands that appear to burn like fire in the sunlight. This was different for our location. Different isn't a good thing. Freckles aligned my nose which added slight variation to my normally pale skin. Due to my father's loving care, I am thin with little to no curves due to the extremely small portions I had received.

"Men only want women of a small stature. It is your duty to this family to marry into wealth."

I shuddered at the statement that sealed my fate with the Starling family. My only saving trait seemed to be my eyes which simulated the jewels the family crest represented. Looking upon the beauty Alora represented, it is true, that I felt as if I belonged on the ground beneath her feet.

With the chime of a servant's bell, Rowan smiled. Unfortunately for me, this was not a smile of pleasure or comfort, but rather a more sinister implication. Alora let out a soft sigh of relief as Rowan left her side once more.

"Come, it is time for you to meet our dear mother and father." Rowan extended his hand out to the right as a clear sign to proceed. I could feel my heart stutter as I took a shaky step in the direction of the drawing room.

The halls were a dark forest sage. Along with the lack of sunlight pouring into the manor, the color nearly appeared black. Likewise, there was no other color visible besides the gold embellishments and the marble artifacts that stood upon pedestals. To calm my nerves, I averted my gaze toward the velvet carpet beneath my soles. The pattern was intricate; a standard Victorian style. However, if I looked close enough, I could make out more of the same coiled serpents that appeared around the rest of the manor. The longer I gazed at the intricate details of the reptile, the more it seemed to move as if it were following my every step.

Two guards dressed in a similar fashion to the one that had greeted us at the manor doors stood on either side of large, ebony doors. With a wave of Rowan's hand, both guards open the large entryway with a low bow. Inside the drawing room sat large bookcases that lined the walls. Each held more distasteful artifacts and literature that I believed would fall apart with a single touch. Two velvet green settees sat atop a nearly identical carpet that had paraded the hall outside. An enormous fireplace made of the same black marble as the foyer sat along the entry wall with a scorching flame flickering in the low light. Although a comforting atmosphere, these surroundings felt more demoralizing.

Across from my escorts sat a slender woman whose hair pulled into a tight, formal style with a golden serpent intertwined. Her eyes were devoid of emotions, almost as if she was bored. She was the epitome of royalty; sitting tall and proud with her chin tilted slightly in the air. It was clear that she believed and knew her estate was more sophisticated than ours could ever hope to be. Behind her stood a man with one hand planted firmly behind his back in a formal stance with the other placed gently on the woman's shoulder. Both were dressed in formal attire designed from the blackest velvet I had ever laid my eyes upon. It was clear that their attire had cost more than my entire estate. At the sound of the doors opening, all eyes suddenly landed on me.

"Ah, Mistress Solandis, thank you for gracing us with your presence." The woman cooed, obviously not intended to actually be a compliment. Her eyes gazed over me as she let out a huff of what I presumed to be distaste. Rowan and Alora silently made their way towards the back of the room after giving a deep bow to their parents. "I see you have already met our eldest son and his dear wife." The woman stopped Alora in front of her and gently placed her hand on Alora's cheek. "Such a beautiful girl, perfect for our dear Rowan." Alora gave a soft smile and averted her gaze from the woman before making her way back to Rowan's side. It was clear that the compliment for Alora was meant to be more of an insult to me.

The man patted the shoulder of the woman sitting in front of him, "A fine pairing in deed Bellona," he quickly glanced over me, "this one will need to do for Aric. As long as she can produce heirs, I am certain our genes will outway the," he paused thoughtfully, "negatives."

It took all my power in my will to keep from grimacing at his words. The last thing I ever wanted to think about was my womanly duties as my dear father had put it. The woman opened her palm toward me and beckoned me closer. I took in a deep breath as I came to a halt in front of her. Up close, she was more beautiful than I had originally imagined. Her eyes were hard and cold. There was not a single ounce of warmth or care radiating from her.

She picked up a piece of my hair before turning to her husband. "I am certain there is something we can do with this mess. At least our line will continue. We may just need to hide this one from the public eye."

Rowan moved forward and placed his hands gently on his mother's. "My darling mother, wouldn't it be better to show her off? We wouldn't want my dear brother feeling left out, would we?"

Catching on to his sarcasm, his father let out a soft chuckle, "Always the kind one, my son." He gave me another glance before pouring himself a glass of what appeared to be whiskey, "she will do fine. At least the line will continue regardless of appearance."