People flattered him as the young Marquis, and his rescue of me was perhaps just a whim, a moment of his pleasure.
On a bitterly cold day, Cassian's mother, Ashley Aniston, summoned me. She held a warming stove, with two maids standing behind her.
The disdain on her face was unmistakable. "Snow, since you've entered the marquis' house, you should know your place. If you don't, let these two girls teach you today."
Indeed, Cassian had given me the name "Snow," and I kept my original surname, "Robinson."
I lowered my head, speaking gently, "Mother, please don't be angry. You can rest, and I'll prepare dinner right away."
She snorted, unwilling to let me off easily. "You two, teach her some manners today!"
I could hear the maids sneering, their laughter cutting through me like a knife.
As the snow fell heavily, Cassian was probably indulging in a palace feast, drinking his fill.
Meanwhile, they forced me to kneel in the snow, my hands turning red and cold.
They only left after half an hour, humming a tune.
"Mrs. Ashley Aniston wants pasty. Don't be late," one of them said.
I struggled to my feet, watching the snowfall intensify.