A storm was raging all around her. Branches tore at her hair, scraping her bare arms and cheek as she ran towards the mansion. Fire encompassed the south tower; she could hear the screams echoing across the countryside. There would be no survivors, she had to hurry. Urging her legs faster, she tripped, tearing her knees and palms on the grabble. She was not going to make it. She had to make it. Picking herself up, she ran endlessly, the wind howling, the distance to the mansion growing further. Of a sudden, an explosion like she had never seen tore through the night. The blast flung her backwards into a tree trunk. Looking towards the mansion, there was nothing left. Nothing left… Nothing…. Left

She awoke with a scream lodged in her throat, sweat coating her body. She turned her head to look out the window and saw dawn breaking across the sky. It was a windy day, which explained the groaning window pane and noises descending the fireplace chimney.

Only a dream. Only a dream. Only a dream. A dream that felt so real. A delicate, pale hand was placed over her heart as she steadied her breathing and tried to calm her racing pulse and thoughts. This was not the first time. This was not the first one that she'd had. The dreams were becoming more vivid and more realistic with each passing week.

"I wonder if it has something to do with my impending nuptials." Sighing, she rubbed her hands over her face. Another thing to dread was that her life was to be handed over to someone as if she was property.

Throwing back her covers, she stood and moved to her wardrobe. Sleep was never going to come back, no matter how tired she was and there was no point in attempting to force it. Pulling out a soft blue morning dress, she quickly threw it on and dressed her hair with a matching lace ribbon. As she walked towards the door, she peeked at the mirror and saw haunted gray eyes staring back at her, skin as pale as a ghost. How appropriate. So many ghosts raged around in her head and around the grounds this morning. Something was wrong, but she couldn't place her finger on it. Maybe it was just the stress of having her life decided for her; this lack of control over anything.

The mansion was quiet as she descended one of the many servant stairwells with everyone, including servants, still abed. She needed fresh air, panic threatening to overwhelm her. Walking quickly through the kitchen, she grabbed a servant's cloak hanging on the wall by the door to the back gardens and practically ran out the door. No one would be missing it this early.

The brisk morning air seared her straight to the bones. The Fall season was coming to a close and the weather was reflecting the turning point of winter. It was the perfect weather for clearing of the mind. She walked, blowing steam puffs as she did so, enjoying the distraction. Tree leaves were almost completely gone in some areas, the colorful array being blown here and there with the wind.

Before she even knew what happened, she was deep in the forest at her favorite spot. She was at a pond, miles away from home. The wind didn't dare touch this secret place, nor did the sunlight. It was mysterious and mythical, completely separate from the rest of the world. She dreamed of seeing wood nymphs and fairies dancing around the edges. Ancient trees shaded the entire opening, raven's snuggling in the branches high up.

She took a seat next to the pond's edge and rested against the back of a large oak. A spot she often sat for hours and imagined a life that would never be hers. A twig snapped in the distance and she whipped her head to the left. There was only darkness between the trees, a squirrel running down to catch a fallen acorn.

"Nightmares again, Drea?" The voice was a breath at her ear, barely causing a stir. Goosebumps danced up her arms and back as she jumped and turned to face the intruder.

"What are you doing here?" She whispered startled, yet pleased to see him.

Zane looked equally exhausted as he leaned against the same tree she was currently sitting before and crossed his arms.

"I could ask you the same thing, but I find that I don't really care." He looked her over from head to foot, his gaze serious and penetrating as if he could see to her very soul. "You look like hell, but it's good to see you."

It would have been insulting had anyone else spoke that to her, truth or not. This was Zane though. She'd known him practically all of her life. He was tall and well built, dirty blonde hair and serious hazel eyes.. The portrait of a man in her mind. She would be lying if she didn't admit that she felt those occasional butterflies when he was around. Nothing would ever come of it though, but she did use him as the image of her hero in her gothic novels. His story was sad. He grew up in a cottage a couple of miles East of home and had been working in the stables for extra coin to provide for his mother and sickly little sister. His father had left for better opportunities years ago and never returned.

"Just imaging my impending doom is all." Chuckling, she patted the wet earth beside her and gazed up at the treeline. He sat beside her and took her hand gently in his. His hands were cold and calloused, but they fit together well. She would miss mornings like this when she married.

"That's tonight?" He rested his head against the tree next to her as she nodded, a lump forming in her throat. "It'll be okay. Who knows, you may find your prince charming." He nudged her with a shoulder.

"Father used to say that I could choose whomever I wanted, and that would be okay. I don't know what happened. We've fought so much these past months and I'm tired. I'm so very tired. I've been having those dreams nightly now and wish they would leave me be. Then there's my mother," She placed her forehead in her empty hand "I don't know what I've ever done for her to hate me so." A tear slipped from her eye.

Reaching up, he caressed the back of his fingers along her cheek, catching the tear. "This is just a season. It won't go on forever, it can't. You'll be married, and go on living your life away from your family. The dreams are just that, dreams. It will all be over soon, fret not."

Her breath caught as there gazes met. It lasted a moment, a flock of birds breaking through the trees causing Zane to snap out of his trance.

She searched his face, "will you come? I don't think I can face the gallows alone."

He looked pained and then gave a sigh of resignation. "You know I'll be there. I won't stay forever though." There was a deeper meaning behind those words, but she refused to think of it.

Sometime later she found herself in her sitting room, practicing the ever-dull needlepoint. Why women were made to learn such atrocities would forever astound her.

The door to the room opened and Olivia, her maid, curtseyed. "Yer father awaits yer presence in his study m'lady."

Another lecture on the benefits of a husband, great. She stood, placing her needlepoint on the cushion beside her and smoothing out her skirts, she stood and followed Olivia to her father's study.

He was reading over his ledger books when she knocked and peeked around the doorframe. Beckoning her over, he rearranged the papers spread out across the massive oak desk and motioned her to sit beside her mother.

They both looked like they had been arguing. His face was strained and her mother's eye was twitching, the corners of her mouth white from pressing it tightly. Drea did not miss the glare that was turned on her as she took to her seat. Her mother scrunched her nose as she took in the grass stains and mud that coated her dress' hem from her trek to the pond. She should be used to the frost radiating from her mother, but it still stung even though she was face to face with her mother's hatred daily.

"Andrea," her father began, "I understand your feelings behind tonight, however" She moved to speak but was halted by his raised hand "however, at eleven we will be announcing your betrothal. Have you chosen one from the list I gave you?" He looked at her expectantly.

It was a sad case really. The list that was provided had twenty-three eligible men from the area. Some of those listed were fortune hunters, others were disgusting letchers, while others may have been decent enough, she supposed. It was all just so overwhelming and no one should be forced to choose a name from a random list and expect to get married and have babies. Ridiculous!

"There is that young man, Randolf, who would be perfect. If you need help deciding." Her mother was beautiful. They looked so much alike that most people confused them as sisters, however her mother alway came up as the one lacking. The anger and bitterness that rolled off of her mother in waves did nothing to win her favor from her tenants. It was a shame that Randolf was a disgusting man who had a taste for young women and cows… not to mention that he was almost twice her age and smelled.

"How considerate of you, mother, to provide me with your favorite choices." She looked towards her father. His face was kind, yet firm with resolve. He at least loved her, although he forced her into things like this. She sighed, "I have not made my final decision yet." She paused, tasting bile, the panic and premonition of wrongness washing over her. "I will give you a final name before the clock strikes eleven. You have my word."

Her father ran a hand over his face, body caving. "You have a selection, yes?" He looked hopeful, weary.

Her mother rolled her eyes, standing. "If we're done with this conversation, I have somewhere to be." She stood and walked towards the door, the epitome of regal. A narcissist through and through, her mother didn't deign to leave with a parting glance, too happy to watch herself walk to the door through the mirror. Exiting the room, she clapped for a footman and began barking orders.

"She loves you, you know. In her way." Her father was looking at her as she turned back to the conversation at hand. "Not everyone loves with their whole heart as you do. Give her time, she'll come around."

A sad smile was all she offered. Her mother had eighteen years to adjust. If it hadn't happened yet, it would never. She stood up as well and walked over to the bookshelf along the wall, feeling the leather bindings on the textbooks and history of Glenville. It was a cozy study. Grand, but cozy. Everything had a place and smelled of pine and leather. It was her favorite room in the entire mansion. It was one of the only places that felt like a true home. The furniture was made from the trees in the area, there were leather chairs before the fireplace that was currently ablaze and a brandy snifter on a side table. He was drinking already?

"You get lovelier every day. It never ceases to amaze me how alike you and your mother look." The smile he gave was gentle and full of love that he tried hard to show.

"She would disagree." Too many times her mother would rage at how she must have been a by-blow that was switched at birth by the nursemaid. How on earth could she be legitimate when Drea looked just like her? It cut deep.

"Nonsense." He stood, allowing the falsehood to sit and walked over to her. His hand on her back, he urged her to the door. " Come daughter. You are a Baron's daughter. Today is your day and you will be the talk of the countryside. Pray tell, did you invite that young lad you're always about?"

"Yes, Zane is coming father," she smiled and let him lead her out. "I will try to make you proud and there will be no mischief, I promise."

He patted her on the back as they continued to the grand hall where the preparations for her last night of freedom were taking place. Servants were running around carrying different items to the ballroom frantically in last minute preparations. Her life sentence was closing in and it was hard to take in enough air in her lungs.

Olivia came quickly forward at the snapping of her father's fingers. She curtseyed, "Come miss, we must get ye ready."

A little while later, Andrea sat before her vanity as Olivia dressed her hair. The curled strands were woven into an intricate knot above her head. She was in the process of strategically placing jasmine throughout when Drea spoke, "will it be truly awful, do you think?"

The proud, plump maid treated her as if she were her own granddaughter. She possessed laugh lines around her deep set eyes, hair graying under her mobcap, and never lied whether it was what someone wanted to hear or not. Olivia was someone that could be depended on no matter what.

"Marriage is not for everyone. I won't lie to ye. It will take some adjustments, but ye'll do fine as long as ye do what he says and mind yer manners. I hear they like that. My Marty was a kind fool and I was lucky, God rest his soul."

Her husband died in a mudslide when Andrea was a baby. It never broke her, although the first couple of years were rough and Olivia spoke of him often.

"Will I marry a brute who will beat me? WIll I marry someone like Randolf who does abominable things? Will the man wage war on everyone in sight?" Her face paled as she counted off more horrors in her head and tallied them on her fingers. Olivia snagged a strand of hair, causing her to wince and focus. "Why couldn't I marry someone like Zane? He's kind, caring… I suppose most would think him handsome." She certainly did. Olivia frowned in response.

"Handsome he is, but he isna of yer rank. Ye know the rules. It be foolish to think such things when it will never come to pass. Mayhap ye'll marry a lad who ye come to love. He'll be kind, gentle, and love ye with all he possesses and ye'll go on to have many babes. Yer father'll be so proud. There, " she exclaimed happily and clapped her hands " ye look like a right and true princess. Not one man will be able to look away."

Her gown was as red as the deepest sunset, possessing a low hanging neckline that barely covered her breasts. The middle of the dress opened up to white lace with intricate flower patterns. She looked towards the window as carriages rattled down the drive. It was almost time. "Thank you Olly. I feel like a princess." She tugged on her elbow length white gloves and paused as Olivia touched her cheek gently.

"Speaking bluntly as ye know I always do, ye are a strong, amazing woman. Smart. There's no way that ye'll make yer decision lightly without considering every possible avenue. If he's a woman beater, ye'll weed it out before the night is through. Listen to yer heart above all of the other voices telling ye what ye should and should not do. Ye'll make the right choice for the Baron and for ye. "

Andrea arched a delicate eyebrow and nodded. "Thank you for your always perfect advice. I wouldn't know how to be calm without you." Her heart began to speed up in anticipation and palms began to sweat beneath her gloves. "Let's begin, shall we?" Olivia held out her arm as Drea preceded her to begin the greetings as lords and their ladies, villagers, and more began arriving through the doors. They paused at the balcony overlooking the main hall. The whole foyer was crowded as the announcements began. Squeaking at her lateness, she rushed to her spot beside her mother and father at the greeting line to the ballroom. Blowing an errant strand out her her face, she tried to not fan herself and hoped her face wasn't flushed.

The line was never ending as people kept coming in. Everyone was making their greetings and entering the ballroom. It was hard for her to not snatch her hand from the constant men practically salivating on it as they bestowed kisses. She looked towards the clock, raising on her tip-toes to see how much longer she would be subject to this and that's when she locked gazes with him.