text: Birds were chirping, the wind was blowing, moving the branches of trees around the Eastorwine estate in a suave dance. It was a wonderful October day, much warmer and sunnier than usual, as if the universe was preparing for the event that was to take place in three days. "When did you decide this?" asked the bride, Helena Eastorwine. Behind the 24-year-old was her mother, a little hunched from the time spent sewing. Mrs Eastorwine was a chubby woman, although she often tried to hide her shapes in the very tight corsets she wore, she used to wear her hair loose because it was short and curly and her face was rather intimidating. She was not a beautiful woman but she was a proud woman who, despite the difficulties she had lived, wanted to give her daughter a better future. "Not more than a month ago. Mr Greyheart agreed relatively quickly and gave us a positive response. You should be proud of yourself, Helena. Mr Greyheart is-" "Mr Greyheart is a source of rumours, and not all of them are about how mysterious and rich he is," retorted Helena in an insolent tone. The young woman was so mad that she could only stand on her feet with her hands hanging loosely along her sides. Her frustrations were not solely based on the idea of being gifted to a man only because in return he could pay for her family’s expenses but for the idea that her mother planned it in the first place. "Many women want this man but he chose to be your husband. Accept without question. " "Why is this man still alone? Why do these women want him, but they do not even approach him? Why did he choose me, knowing very well the financial situation we are in? Hmm?“ pestered the girl, trying to keep herself in check, though she was riled on the inside. All those questions were pointless because Mrs Eastorwine was not ready to give answers. Being small in stature, especially beside her tall daughter, she seemed unable to hold even a verbal fight. Nevertheless, Mrs Eastorwine frowned and left the room, not before, however, to look at her daughter with a scowl and say: "Mr Greyheart will arrive this afternoon. You'd better not miss your first date with your future husband, “announced Mrs Eastorwine, and then left. Alone in her bedroom, Helena could finally exteriorize her inner hurricane. She screamed and grabbed anything near only to throw wherever she could. By the time she calmed down, sheets and dresses were torn apart, making sure that Mr. Greyheart will not fancy her. "Mr Lucas Greyheart, I am so happy to meet you!" The young man turned towards the door in the very back and saw a thin yet very tall and gentle looking man walk towards him in a very funny way. Following him closely was a round woman, wiping her hands on her apron. "Do not laugh. It's not the time to make a fool of yourself." advised his trusted butler Papillon with a straight face. "I'm extremely happy to have you in my humble home, Mr Greyheart," started Mr. Eastorwine once he reached the younger man, "It's quite a surprise that you came all that way in the first place. I am flattered." "You'll see you have made the best choice, sir. My dear daughter is an excellent woman and will be a great wife to you." said Mrs. Eastorwine, her eyes scanning him from the top of his head to the toes. "I cannot say for sure how compatible we are since we have never met, but from what I have heard, she is a unique woman." answered Mr. Greyheart, trying his best to be polite and ignore Mrs. Eastorwine’s looks. He was uncomfortable and knew he might end up doing a mistake but still, it was better to marry than stay a free man with so many rumors surrounding him and his family. "Where is the lady, if I may ask?" Mrs Eastorwine chuckled lightly and glanced at the stairs towards the first floor. Nobody was coming down, even if the noise was enough of a sign. "I'll bring her," said the woman with a tint of annoyance. Mr Greyheart nodded and watched the old woman move up the stairs with a frown. He sighed and turned to the man of the house. Mr Eastorwine smiled and invited his guest to sit by the window before he drew out his pipe. Mr Greyheart watched bemused how his white moustache was moving every time he'd breathe in the tobacco. Seeing how his guest was staring so intensely, Mr Eastorwine gave the younger man a pointy look. "Listen here, sir. I do believe wedding my daughter off is not the most honourable gesture as a father, but you are the only gentleman left. I don't know what you have heard about my family but I'd like for you to ignore them just as we ignored all the rumours about you." The elder man had reasons to defend himself but so did Mr Greyheart. He was ready to answer in the same manner when he heard Mrs. Eastorwine's voice on the stairs. She walked in, followed by a woman with big blue eyes, so round that it looked like she could see into his soul. She was nothing like he imagined and she was nothing like her parents. "Miss," greeted Mr Greyheart but the girl didn't sketch a single gesture. "Helena," her mother pushed the girl closer to him before she continued, "This is Mr Greyheart and he will be your husband." Helena only looked into his eyes, which to be sincere intimidated him a bit. She was a blunt woman, he could see from the way she was staring at him with defiance. Her character was probably not very feminine but her looks were enough. She was taller than most women he had met and what really drew his attention was her long, elegant neck. It was empty, she didn't wear any jewelries and she wasn't wearing a dress but pants with a tight corset, amplifying her breasts' visual effect. She was a decent woman, beautiful if she'd try. She was enough for him. Mr Greyheart himself knew that he was not an ugly man either. He was tall enough and handsome enough. He wasn't a man that would be drawn by falsity and Helena was anything but that from the tense position of her body. "Nice to meet you, sir. I was rather surprised that you accepted to be wedded to a woman 10 years younger. I'm afraid I have already been discovered," said Helena with a mischievous glint in her big eyes. "Helena," said her mother, slapping her daughter’s back lightly. "I'm sorry, Mr Greyheart. She's hostile with strangers." "Exactly," interrupted the girl, "You are a stranger and I shall not express joy when meeting my future husband only three days before the marriage." added the young woman, raising an eyebrow as of telling him she was not inferior to him. Mr Greyheart's eyes widened, flustered she could speak so coldly. Her mouth did not have a limit and he found that to be troublesome. The dark haired heir glanced at Papillon for help but the stiff servant was not to be bothered. "We don't have to know each other in order to marry." mumbled Mr Greyheart , moving his eyes on her. "What about afterwards? Shall there never be love between us, no intimacy and no respect?" "What makes you believe there will be no respect?" asked Mr Greyheart, intrigued by her opinion. "Or intimacy, for that matter," "You. You look like the many men that entered this house before, asking for my hand. You dress well, you smell well and you talk well. What makes you different from the others?" she started. "My inheritance?" asked the man, bemused. "Your mind and your eyes. The way you look at me is not the same as when you lay your eyes upon a woman but upon responsibility. And your mind, you're foolish to come here and agree with an arrangement where you offer more than you receive." "That is my choice, not yours." "Then do I have no choice in this arrangement? Am I only the contract that needs to be signed?" "Exactly," answered Mr Greyheart, looking at her with empty eyes. The two didn't speak for the rest of the time. Mr Greyheart arrived in time for supper so Mrs Eastorwine invited him to dine with his future in laws. Maybe at first he didn't think much about it but he regretted it after five minutes. "So, you are the famous Mr Greyheart. Not much to be interested in, to be sincere. Not much." said a boy that looked to be around 18 years old. "That is the youngest son, Alfred." Papillon informed his master, "Across you is Miss Helena's twin brother, Matthew and next to you is missing the elder brother, Blaise." "Well, Lucas, we heard a lot about you." hearing Matthew speak informally to the guest, someone hit him under the table. It was quite strong because the whole table jolted. "We heard you hate women, so how come you're marrying my sister?" continued Matthew, the table trembling again quite obviously. "I assure you, I do not hate women. That is just a false rumour." answered Mr Greyheart, acting as polite as he could. "Is any rumour true? For example, where is Blaise at this hour in the night? Should we believe the rumours?" Mrs Eastorwine asked, knowing how it sounded but still trying to make Mr Greyheart understand they were on his side. Just as the woman commented about him, Blaise Eastorwine barged into the eating room, looking disheveled and worried. His eyes caught onto Mr Greyheart and patted his hair quickly, making himself presentable. Then, he approached the table and sat on his designated seat. "I'm sorry to be late. I had business that needed my full attention." "Of course you did." mumbled Matthew. "If only it would pay off, it would actually be helpful." commented Alfred, glancing at Mr Greyheart with a smirk, "If you beat Blaise, you can have Helena." "What do you mean? Beat him how?" asked Mr Greyheart, confused how these brothers were so protective of their only sister. He was sure he didn't look that dark, Papillon made sure of that. "It doesn't matter. You're here so of course, I won't disappoint my family." Helena said just as coldly as before. She wiped her mouth elegantly and excused herself, going out. "If I were you, I'd accept fighting Blaise and then lose. You don't know who you're marrying." Alfred added when he was sure his sister couldn't hear. "She doesn't look dangerous," Mr Greyheart mumbled, taking a spoonful. The younger brothers glanced at each other before they fell silent. Blaise on the other hand started to speak about his day at work, trying to draw the attention over him rather than Helena. Next morning, Mr Greyheart walked downstairs very early and strolled through the garden, getting on the same place she saw the two siblings talk last night. He looked forward before he turned to his bedroom window. No one was there but that wasn't suspicious. It seemed that Helena was not an early riser but everyone else was. Breakfast was loud, if he could say. Alfred was the young trickster, going around and messing with everyone. His bright blond hair was probably inherited from his father because Mrs Eastorwine was a ginger. Then, the middle brother, thin and fragile looking just like his father, with bright blond hair as well and an affinity for wine, it seemed. And there was Blaise, drinking tea while reading the newspaper. He was the only redhead in the family, except his mother, and he was the type of man that Mr Greyheart had seen at the few diners he had been to. He was a fortune digger and liked women as much as they liked him, but he was never involved and never taking responsibility. This reminded Mr Greyheart just how Helena looked: different. Papillon walked behind his master and waited patiently for the man to question him, knowing there were many curiosities about the Eastorwines. “They all hate me already.” Mr Greyheart started feeling like he may be entering a trap by his own will. “Especially the bride.” “We did not come here to make friends, sir." Papillon answered. Mr Greyheart rolled his eyes but had to agree with his companion. “Mr Greyheart, sir, maybe we should have a small chat shall we?" Blaise approached the darker man with a polite smile. "But Miss-" he looked at the stairs upstairs but there was no sign that Helena will come down anytime soon. "Helena is not like the women you meet at diners, Mr Greyheart. It would be wrong to presume she likes what many women do." Blaise began as soon as they walked out of the house. Mr Greyheart chuckled bemusedly, taking the elder brother as an overprotective factor, not necessary intimidating too. "Are you trying to make me change my mind? Because just like your family, I do have a status I must protect." "Once a deal made, everyone knows it's unpleasant to go back on your word. I have heard much about your Lair yet you only came with your butler." pointed out the ginger. "I assure you Miss Helena will be living well in my home," assured Mr Greyheart. "For that to happen, it’s best if you don't question her or whatever she does." Blaise started, stopping in front of the entry to a labyrinth in the backyard of the house. "Shall we continue our discussion while we reach the center?" Mr Greyheart followed Blaise into the labyrinth warily, sensing some kind of hostility now that no one could really see them. "I'm sure you believe my family is trying to get money from you so they chose to give you their daughter in return. That is not entirely true. My mother chose you in particular, Mr Greyheart." started Blaise, his tone changing slightly. "Why?" "Because Helena needs to leave this house. She has the right to live, especially after all the sacrifices we made for her. You see, Mr Greyheart, Helena has certain tendencies ever since that accident last summer." "Lord Sickney's son died while being in vacation with Miss Helena." "He drowned,” corrected the younger man, “Helena had nothing to do with it since she doesn't know to swim. However, bad mouths have decided she was responsible and the rumour spread rapidly." "Does she have nightmares?" "No. But she has violent tendencies. If you make her angry, she might break your neck without the smallest regret. Are you having second thoughts, sir?" Blaise asked with a tinge of irony. Helena was a woman that did not seem to care much about what others believed about her or just in general. It was obvious from the way she did not move from her seat in the living room that she didn't care if Mr Greyheart arrived or not. She had her back turned to him but heard the door crack open. Only one set of steps entered so she figured whose. "Do you like literature, Mr Greyheart?" She asked in a nicer tone than yesterday. "I do, yes. I like to read when I have the time." He answered walking towards her. "What genre do you enjoy the most? For example, I like romance. The idea of having one soul next to you for the rest of your life is dreamy." She continued, looking out the window with a book on her lap. "Such love doesn't exist. Selfishness is far above loyalty." replied coldly the older man. "Maybe. Have you been heartbroken before, Mr Greyheart?" She pestered on the subject. "To be heartbroken one has to first fall in love." Helena hummed and placed the book aside. She got up and turned to look straight into his eyes. Those wide blue orbs looked so empty that Mr Greyheart wondered what exactly she was thinking of when laying her gaze over him. "Let's never fall in love, Mr Greyheart. Love brings death and I'm sure the Lair doesn't need more rumours surrounding it." She was not talking only about love; Mr Greyheart was curious what exactly she meant when using that word. Well, it didn't matter since once married, they would not see much of each other even if they will live in the same house. "Why did you accept my mother's one sided proposition?" She asked, genuinely curious. "Does it matter?" "Yes. It does. I want to know what made you believe a wedding will change your life. As you can see, you’re not welcome in this family no matter how my parents fawn over you." "It won't change anything. And it won't change your life either, I assure you. You'll be free to do however you please, go wherever you want to go and speak to whomever you want to speak." "But at the same time, I have to protect and defend your pride, don't I? The Greyheart name has to surface from the mud and blind every nobleman until everything they can see is what you want them to see." "Aren't you seeking details where there are not? I want to marry you and that should be enough." Combated Mr Greyheart, growing annoyed. "Do you really? Or am I just a diversion?” the young woman asked, straightening her back so much that it looked like her breasts were going to pop, “Just what is the real secret of the Greyheart Lair?” Mr Greyheart watched her closely as she walked past him, incredibly close while doing so, their hands brushing each other.