Henriette hadn’t planned on inheriting a castle, least of all one that looked like something out of a forgotten horror movie. The first time she saw it, her only thought was, What a dump. But after losing everything in a rushed marriage and an even faster divorce, she didn’t exactly have options.
The castle smelled like damp stone and regret. Still, she figured if she was going to fix anything first, it had to be the bathroom. That felt like a woman’s instinct — get the one place clean where you could wash the past off.
The only thing she didn’t rip out was the bathtub. A big, worn clawfoot thing that looked like it had survived wars.
That night, Henriette filled the tub with steaming water and slid in. She closed her eyes and tried not to think of him, his smirk, his lies, the way he made her feel.
She sighed and dunked her whole head underwater. She held her breath and imagined staying down there, letting the water press the pain out of her chest. She wished it could take her away, somewhere else. Anywhere.
When she finally came up for air, it was... different. The newly renovated bathroom was different; everything was back to before her revamp, just neat.
Women moved around her like she was someone important. One washed her hair, another dabbed something that smelled like flowers.
Henriette just stared. Her brain couldn’t catch up. Maybe she’d fallen asleep.
By the time she found her voice, someone was already lacing her into a gown.
A long aisle stretched out ahead of her. A man, waiting at the end.
And before she could ask a single question, she realized she was about to be married.
To who?
To what?
She had no idea.
