Married To The Mad Vampire Lord

Left in the cold of the night, in a place far away from the city and towns, Isabelle couldn't walk, only crawl her way out of the house, sweating and whimpering in pain. Her gown clung damply to her trembling body, and every scrape of her knees on the wet earth sent fire through her battered frame.

The only thoughts in her mind were to get back home, to reach her parents and tell them what Deven had done to her, how he had ruined and hurt her in a way no woman should ever have been hurt. His betrayal stung so deeply she didn't want to think about it, yet the burning thought of making him pay was the only thing that gave power to her limbs, the only force dragging her body forward.

After hours of crawling on the wet ground, clawing her way through the mud until her hands blistered, she finally reached the road where carriages passed. Her strength gave out completely, and Isabelle fell unconscious upon the stones.

The next time she opened her eyes, she found herself back home, lying in her own bed with her family hovering in her room.

She didn't care about her weakened state, or the ache that spread through her body like wildfire. All she felt was the bolt of relief that coursed through her veins at seeing her parents. She pushed herself up from the bed, desperate to speak, to finally release the burden from her chest by telling her parents what Deven and those men had done to her.

But before she could even part her lips, a slap, so hard landed across her face, jerking her head violently to the side.

"You ungrateful little wench! How dare you do this to us after everything we've done to instill morals in you? How could you disgrace yourself and us this way? Is this how we raised you?!" her father roared, his face flushed with anger, disappointment burning in his eyes for the only daughter he thought he had raised well, only to see shame brought upon his household overnight by her.

At first Isabelle was too stunned to even breathe. The sting of her father's hand burned across her cheek as the pain registered on her already numb body. Slowly, with wide, glassy eyes, she turned to look at him, then to her mother, who stood sobbing, one hand clamped over her mouth in grief and disbelief.

This was not the reaction she had expected from her parents who loved her. She had expected a hug, arms to shield her, ears willing to listen. But instead, their condemnation fell like a hammer drilling a nail on her already wounded heart. Still, Isabelle refused to let her resolve crumble, and she forced her broken voice to speak again.

"I didn't do anything wrong… Deven did—"

"Don't you dare say his name with that disgraceful mouth of yours!" her father thundered, his voice dropping into a dangerously low growl as he glared at her. "You have not only ruined everything, but you've also destroyed your chances of ever being a wife to that respectable young man. You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Isabelle flushed hot with humiliation and anger, her chest rising and falling with suppressed fury. She tried again to speak, her words falling on deaf ears. Nobody listened. Her pleas were drowned out by her parents' accusations until the storm inside her could no longer be contained, and she cried out over their raised voices.

"DEVEN DID THIS TO ME, MA! HE DID THIS TO ME! WHY ARE YOU TAKING HIS SIDE?!"

The words tore from her throat, but instead of comfort, another slap struck her cheek, this time from her mother, whose hand had never once been raised against her before. Isabelle's head snapped back, her face stinging as tears welled uncontrollably down her cheeks.

"Don't you dare say another word against that young man, who is away on business, while you were sneaking out behind our backs to meet other men!" her mother spat, her voice trembling with both anger and shame, for what her daughter had done was far beyond anything any other respectable woman would do.

Immediately, everything began to dawn on Isabelle. To the world, to her family, to everyone, Deven was still in Barbara, far away, and had not yet returned to this land. Nobody knew he had come back early, nobody knew he had lured her into that trap, nobody knew he had ruined her with his own hands.

"But he did this to me," she sobbed, her voice breaking. "He is in Aragonia, I saw him! He locked me in a room with men, they held me down and forced their—"

"Shut that mouth of yours, Isabelle! Making up such vile things will not change the truth of what you are, a loose woman with disgusting behavior," her mother interrupted, her words slicing through Isabelle's soul. She could not believe the girl she had raised, the daughter she had clothed and cherished, could have turned out like this.

They had not even known she had left the house that night until a man, one who worked at a brothel, delivered her home in his wagon this morning. He had told them she passed out after being with one of the brothel's clients in the rooms. He claimed she was a frequent visitor of the house, that she entertained different men every night, and that tonight her body must have given out from exhaustion after serving a particularly large man. The shame her parents had felt upon hearing such words and seeing their daughter had been indescribable.

"Ma… Pa… you don't believe me, do you?" Isabelle whispered, her voice small as she stared at their faces, her father's stern, her mother's painted with disappointment. Her hazel eyes brimmed with tears as she tried once more to make them understand. "Deven did—"

"Nissa, come with me. We need to talk about what we will do with her before word gets out and people begin to talk," her father said coldly, turning his back as he took his wife's arm and left the room, not sparing his daughter even another glance.

Every day, Isabelle tried again and again to tell them what had truly happened, but nobody listened. Nobody wanted to hear her. They locked her up in her room, sliding meals through the door, while they made secret arrangements to send her away to the west, to their distant relatives, until the scandal could die down as somehow, word had already began to go out.

Her diary became her only companion, the pages soaking up her grief, her fury, her heartbreak. Night and day, she wrote of her anger towards Deven, of the injustice and how nobody was listening.

On the third day, as her mother came to tell her about their plans to send her away for a while, Isabelle shook her head in despair as she grabbed her mother's hands.

"I don't want to go away. Ma, you always listened to me when I talk, you always hear me out even when I say the most absurd things. Why can't you listen and believe me this time?" she sobbed, looking into her mother's eyes.

Her mother tried to pry her hands away as she held back tears and spoke, "Because the truth can be seen, not spoken. You can't prove anything with just words... I saw it with my own eyes, how you were carried back, dressed in little to nothing, Isabelle. You have truly disappointed me. It's best if you go away for some time."

Despair gnawed at Isabelle, but she suddenly remembered the letter in the red envelope and the fact that Claire was her witness and could prove everything. Claire knew the truth.

"Ma, get Claire! She will tell you the truth and show you the evidence!"

Isabelle demanded to see her maidservant, who at that moment was serving punishment for not exposing the secret that the duke's daughter had been sneaking out at night.

Claire was brought to her by a servant. Isabelle, too broken to care about politeness, seized her friend by the arms and stared desperately into her eyes.

"You have to bring out Deven's letter from my trunks and show it to my parents. You have to tell them that he is the one I go out to meet and no one else! You have to help me, Claire, Deven has to pay for what he did to me…" Her voice cracked, choked by tears.

Claire, who had tried before this to speak with the duke and duchess but was brushed aside as a mere servant, now looked upon her mistress with pity. Seeing her state, she nodded and promised softly, "I will show it to them. I will tell them."

"Thank you…" Isabelle breathed, collapsing into her arms, crying into her neck with her hopes high.

But Claire betrayed her that very same day.

"Claire will show you the evidence, that Deven sent for me that night!" Isabelle shouted when her parents came to her room again to inform her about her departure date to the west. "Bring Claire, and she will tell you!"

That day, Claire was dragged into the room and forced to kneel before the duke and duchess. Isabelle's heart leapt, a shaky smile breaking through her tears as she knelt down in front of her maidservant, trying to encourage her.

"Go ahead," she whispered urgently. "Tell them the truth. They will believe you if you show them. They will see Deven's handwriting."

But when Claire opened her mouth, it wasn't the truth that spilled forth, but a lie.

"My lady… she told me she wanted to know what it's like to lie with a man. She wanted to get back at Lord Deven for leaving her when she told him not to. She made me help her leave the house to go and meet other men in the whorehouse. I wanted to tell you, but she forced me to promise not to say anything…"

Isabelle's world shattered further, breaking into pieces too sharp to ever be mended. She stared in disbelief, her body shaking as the betrayal of her friend registered. Her breath caught in her lungs, and her voice came out in a broken whisper.

"Not you too…"