Year 1769
The icy wind howled through the trees, biting at the exposed faces of the family trudging through the hardened snow. The mother gripped her little daughter's gloved hand tightly, guiding her through the night that would change her life forever.
At this hour, the six-year-old girl would usually be playing with her dolls in front of a warm fireplace. Instead, she found herself travelling with her parents to a grand castle that loomed tall and foreboding against the night sky.
The little girl glanced back at the carriage they had left behind, causing her feet to slip slightly. Her mother's grip tightened on her hand as she gently scolded,
"Eyes to the front, Elle. We're almost there."
As the little girl turned her head quickly, the hood slipped back, exposing her blonde hair to the biting cold wind. And then she saw them.
At first, they were only shadows. But as the family drew closer, the shadows sharpened into distinct figures. The little girl tried to hide behind her father, feeling a trickle of fear seep into her at the sight of them.
There were three of them. The first was a tall, dark-haired, handsome man with deep red eyes, his black cloak whipping back in the wind. To his left stood a young man in his teenage years, his blonde hair combed back similarly to the taller man, wearing a pleasant smile. On the right was a young boy with dishevelled black hair, who now stared blankly at the little girl. They all shared the same striking eyes.
"Harold Belmont," the tall man, greeted them with an air of elegance and power, his sharp red eyes observing the human family as they offered a deep bow.
The little girl struggled to maintain her composure, her curious brown eyes darting towards the castle, only to be interrupted by her father pushing her head down. "Mind your manners, Elle," he hissed.
"Lord Azriel, greetings to you," Mr. Belmont said, his breath visible in the cold air. "Did the letter from the elders reach you?" he asked with slight apprehension.
"It did," came the curt response from Lord Azriel, his presence alone enough to instill fear. Even with their respectable positions in society, the humans couldn't help but feel a lingering wariness. "A good relationship between vampires and humans. As if it hasn't been attempted before. But I guess never under a status like my family's."
"I hope that you accept our proposal," Mr. Belmont said, gesturing towards his daughter, who unsuccessfully tried to hide behind her mother. "My daughter, Ruelle Belmont."
When all eyes fell on the little girl, her gaze quickly dropped to the snow-covered ground, feeling the weight of their scrutiny.
"She is young," Lord Azriel remarked, clicking his tongue as he observed the little one. "The elders didn't specify which of my sons should be betrothed to your daughter. My eldest, Dane, is seventeen and too old for her. My youngest, Lucian, is ten—much closer to her age. I trust this arrangement is more acceptable to you."
"More than pleased, Lord Azriel," Mr. Belmont replied with a nod.
Mrs. Belmont felt a wave of relief wash over her. While it was common for men to be older than their partners, a seventeen-year-old paired with her six-year-old daughter seemed far too disparate, especially given her daughter's tender age.
"To honour the elders' decision, we shall proceed with the arrangement. However, remember this," Lord Azriel's voice drawled, capturing the human couple's attention. "The marriage will take place once they reach the needed age, allowing her time to understand the family and kind she is joining. Hopefully, this will give her enough time to learn and adapt."
"Ruelle is a bright girl," Mr. Belmont assured the lord before him, though Lord Azriel's sceptical gaze lingered on his skittish daughter, clearly unconvinced.
"In the meantime, I hope none of us break the truce that the elders want to make," Lord Azriel stated with an undertone of warning that did not go unnoticed by the Belmonts. "If it is agreed, then from this moment on, Ruelle Belmont is betrothed to Lucian Slater," the lord announced.
The little girl kept her eyes fixed on the ground, unaware of the significance of the arrangement that had just been made, one in which she had neither say nor choice.
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