Shadows of Deception: The Luna’s Impostor

Chapter 21: Chosen

Eloise started her journey to the house of her fiancé with a mixture of anticipation and dread. Her heart was a whirlwind of emotions as she prepared to leave behind the only home she had ever known, stepping into a future filled with uncertainties. The journey promised to be arduous, spanning days and fraught with challenges that would test her resolve.

The road stretched out before them, a seemingly endless ribbon of dirt and gravel that wound through dense forests and over rolling hills. The journey was very long and hard, made even more taxing by the frequent stops they had to make. Every time it rained, they were forced to seek shelter, huddling under trees or makeshift tents, waiting for the downpour to cease. The men accompanying her—grizzled, sturdy, and accustomed to such travel—needed to rest often, their fatigue becoming an unspoken burden on Eloise’s progress.

She had no female companion, which made the journey even more difficult. The absence of another woman to share her thoughts and worries left Eloise feeling isolated. She could have easily taken care of herself, having grown used to self-reliance over the years. But this journey was different. She needed to look presentable and as much as possible decent when she arrived at the mansion of her fiancé, a man she had never seen before.

Eloise’s attire was both her armor and her constraint. The delicate fabric of her dress, while beautiful, was impractical for the rigors of travel. She moved slowly, her steps measured and careful, so as not to ruin her dress or her entire look. Every step was a balance between grace and practicality, and it wore on her patience.

The days blurred together, marked by the rhythm of hooves on the road and the whispered conversations of her escort. Eloise spent the nights under the stars, wrapped in a woolen cloak, her mind racing with thoughts of the future. She wondered what kind of man awaited her at the end of this journey. Questions haunted her dreams, mingling with the sounds of the night

Would he be kind and understanding, or stern and unyielding?

-

The journey had been long and arduous, but finally, after some days, they had reached the arch that marked the boundary of her soon-to-be husband's territory. The ornate iron structure loomed overhead, entwined with ivy and weather-worn inscriptions in a language she couldn't read.

As the carriage rumbled beneath it, an inexplicable sensation enveloped her—a mixture of anticipation and dread. The air felt thick with humidity, a stark contrast to the dry, temperate climate of her homeland. It clung to her skin, seeping through her garments and chilling her to the bone. Memories of her past life as a beggar surfaced, unbidden, the damp and cold evoking those harsh days of survival on the streets.

As they proceeded, the townsfolk began to appear. Men, women, and children paused in their daily tasks to watch the unfamiliar carriage with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Their eyes seemed to pierce through the wooden panels, and she could almost feel their collective gaze like a tangible weight pressing down on her. A shiver ran down her spine, her earlier unease now turning into palpable fear. She remembered the rumors—stories whispered in dark corners about this land and its inhabitants. They were not mere people, it was said, but creatures of the night, monsters masquerading as humans. Wolves in sheep's clothing.

"My lady, it seems that we are getting near," the coachman called out, breaking her from her reverie. She glanced out the small window once more and saw the mansion looming ahead. Unlike the modest houses they had passed, this building was a monolith of stone and shadow. It stood isolated, its imposing structure dominating the landscape. Towering spires reached for the sky, and thick, creeping vines covered its surface like dark veins. The windows, tall and narrow, were shrouded in heavy drapes that allowed no glimpse of the interior. The mansion exuded an aura of ancient mystery, as if it had witnessed centuries of untold secrets.

Her mind raced with thoughts of what awaited her inside. If the people she had seen so far were any indication, those within this mansion must surely be even more formidable. The stories had painted them as beings of great power and cunning, capable of shifting their forms at will. She pictured wolves disguised as men, their true natures concealed beneath human facades.

Would they welcome her as one of their own, or view her as an outsider, an intruder in their domain even if she is acting as one of them?

The carriage creaked to a halt in front of the imposing iron gates, the horses snorting and pawing at the gravel beneath their hooves. The coachman tightened his grip on the reins, casting a wary glance at the guards who had stepped forward, their eyes scrutinizing every inch of the carriage. Clad in dark uniforms, their expressions were stern and unyielding, reflecting the seriousness of their duty.

Eloise, sitting inside the carriage, could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She peered through the small window, watching as the guards inspected the vehicle with meticulous care. They must be ensuring that she was no threat, verifying that she was not an enemy in disguise. The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity, but finally, the guards seemed satisfied. With a sharp nod, they signaled to the coachman, who cracked the reins, and the carriage rolled forward, accompanied by the men who had joined her on this journey.

The gravel crunched beneath the wheels as the carriage made its way up the long, winding driveway, flanked by towering trees that cast long shadows in the fading light. Eloise could see the grand manor house coming into view, its tall, elegant windows glinting in the evening sun. The house stood majestic and silent, its stone façade exuding an air of timeless grandeur.

As the carriage came to a final stop in front of the house, Eloise noticed a crowd beginning to gather. The household staff, dressed in neat uniforms, lined up in an orderly fashion, their faces a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. The heavy silence was broken by the soft murmur of whispers, spreading like a ripple through the assembled crowd.

Eloise took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. The door of the carriage swung open, and a liveried footman stood there, bowing slightly as he extended a hand to her. She accepted his help, feeling the firmness of his grip as he guided her down the steps. The moment her feet touched the ground, a chorus of voices rose in unison, greeting her warmly.

"Welcome, Lady Eloise," they intoned, their voices blending into a harmonious melody that echoed across the courtyard.

Eloise stood tall, her gaze sweeping over the assembled faces. Each person seemed to be waiting for her, their eyes filled with expectation and respect. She offered a gracious smile, nodding in acknowledgment of their greetings. The journey had been long and tiring, but the warmth of their welcome made it feel worthwhile.

Right then, the front doors of the mansion swung open, and a figure emerged, striding purposefully towards her. Eloise squinted against the sun's glare, trying to make out the details of the approaching person. As the woman drew closer, Eloise noted her poised demeanor and the air of authority she carried. The woman’s hair, neatly pinned up, and her elegant dress spoke of a meticulous nature.

"Welcome, young lady," the woman stated, her voice firm yet not unkind. Eloise assessed her, noting that despite their similar age, this woman seemed much more mature, exuding a coldness that was almost palpable.

"Thank you for welcoming me," Eloise replied, her curiosity piqued. "May I know who I am speaking to?"

"I am Clara Van Alen," the woman replied. Eloise's eyes widened in surprise. The name was familiar, but the person before her did not match the portraits she had seen.

"I'm sorry, you don’t look like your portraits," Eloise said, bowing her head respectfully. Clara laughed softly, a sound that seemed to echo in the still air.

"Don't be like that," Clara said, placing a hand gently under Eloise's chin to lift her head. "Don’t act too formal around me. I want to get along with you. My son will be extremely happy once he sees you."

Eloise frowned slightly, her mind racing with questions. "Where… is your son?" she asked.

The smile on Clara's face faltered. "He’s taking care of some business with his father. They will be back later this evening. For now, let us head inside and settle down for a moment."

Eloise nodded and followed Clara into the house. The interior was as grand as the exterior, with high ceilings, intricate moldings, and lavish furnishings. Each step they took echoed in the vast, open space. As they walked, Eloise noticed the maids and other staff efficiently handling her luggage, carrying it inside the house. She didn't need to ask where they were taking it; she knew it would be placed in her chambers. Clara led her in a different direction, away from the bustling activity.

Clara Van Alen was known as a very strict and cold lady, but meeting her in person was different from the portraits and comments Eloise had heard. Clara was talkative, loud, and surprisingly warm.

"You must be tired from the long journey. I shouldn’t have dragged you along here and should have sent you into your room to rest," Clara said, starting to realize her oversight.

"No, it’s alright, my lady. It would be nice to have a chat for a short time," Eloise replied, and Clara smiled.

"I’m sure that my boy will extremely like you," Clara said, looking straight into Eloise's eyes.

"I hope so, my lady," Eloise answered, truly hoping that would be the case. They reached a sitting room, where a fire crackled warmly in the hearth. Clara gestured for Eloise to take a seat on a plush, velvet sofa. She sat down, her hands resting nervously in her lap.

"Would you like some tea?" Clara asked.

"Yes, please," Eloise replied, grateful for the offer. Clara rang a small bell, and a servant promptly appeared, taking the order with a polite bow.

As they waited, Clara studied Eloise intently. "So tell me," she said. "Were you surprised to know that you will be staying here for the meantime."

Eloise hesitated, then began to speak, “I was… I didn’t expect to stay here to begin with.” She stated and the woman laughed again.

“Even I was surprised when my son asked me to invite you to stay here.” Clara stated which made her frown.

“He… is the one who invited me here?” She asked curious and the woman nodded in return. But before Clara could talk, the tea arrived, and they sipped in companionable silence for a while. The warmth of the tea and the fire began to ease Eloise's tension, and she found herself relaxing in Clara's presence.

"I can sense your aura," Clara said finally, breaking the silence. "I can see why my son chose you."

Eloise blushed, but at the same time she froze as soon as her words finally sunk into her mind. "He… chose me?" she asked surprised.

Clara smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes now. "Were you not informed?" She asked and she even more stiffen from where she was seated.

If she was chosen… then the man who she will be married to might know her – the real Eloise and not the imposter – her.