Some time had passed since her letter was delivered. Daphne did not know what she hoped for with that effort. She knew that she had been trying to tell Furley she hadn't abandoned him, but what did she expect him to do with that knowledge?
Almost immediately after sending it, she felt she may have made a mistake. What if he got himself killed looking for her? Or run out of Bree-land for good. He'd certainly been in the middle of enough ruckus that the locals may not find his presence so suitable anymore.
Tudy had been back in the camp for about two days, when Harold summoned Daphne to the cabin in which he would stay when he was there. She was given some sort of frilly frock to wear, which she hated beyond words, but wore anyway.
"Probably another one of his stupid dinners prepared. How do these thugs stand him when he lives so lavishly while they often starve?"
Her suspicions were confirmed the moment she stepped foot in the cabin. He had a table filled with fancier food. She rolled her eyes without hiding it and he simply gestured to her seat at the other end of the small table, not betraying any anger or annoyance caused by her eye-rolling.
She considered, as she always did, refusing to take her seat. In the end, she decided, as she also always did, that she did not want to risk Harold causing anyone else pain due to his anger at her. She carefully took her seat.
They ate in silence. The room was dusky, with the early evening sun filtering through murky, yellowish glass windows. It was a very lonely dinner and Daphne liked it that way, she surmised. It was far better than when Harold would attempt to fill the air with words to keep from silence.
But it was still lonely.
"Judge Reed will be here this week," Harold stated simply, near the end of the meal.
Daphne lifted her gaze from where her chin sat in her hand, while her elbow was propped on the table. "Yay?" Was all she said. She could not care less whether Bree's bitter Justice of the Peace was visiting this little encampment. It only proved her previous suspicions of the man being one of the corrupt officials.
"He will be marrying the two of us before he leaves." Harold set his utensils down and looked at Daphne, watching for her reaction. His expression was entirely serious, but she merely looked at him with a weary expression and made no movement.
"I already gave you my answer. Just give it up already, you languid neeker-breeker," she said with a huff. She was very much growing tired of this. She thought she could be no more tired of it in the beginning...she was mistaken.
He chuckled and the hairs on her neck and arms stood up. She would not like whatever his next words would be.
"Petunia, darling, Judge Reed will marry us whether or not you give your consent. He has already received your uncle's consent, and is very much aware your uncle has long been your caretaker and legal guardian."
Daphne shot out of her chair and slammed her fists on the table. "I am a twenty-five year old woman, and have been responsible for my own care since I was twelve! My uncle can't make this decision for me; no one can!"
Harold leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed with a hand resting on either bicep. He shook his head calmly and smiled. "You'll soon stop throwing your tantrums, my love. It's already a done deal. The only decision you can make is whether you show up dressed like a princess, or bound. Your uncle made it clear to Judge Reed that you are trying to be faithless to me, so your consent is unnecessary."
The sound of ripping filled the room as Daph's dress tore with her immediate movement to the other end of the table. She grabbed Harold by the neck and slammed his chair backward into the ground. Unfortunately, he saw this coming and did not lose consciousness.
He grabbed her arms and wrenched her hands off his neck, throwing her aside. When he stood and rubbed his neck with a glare down at her, she nearly hoped the rage in his face meant she was going to be killed.
Harold calmed quickly. "I won't force myself on you until you're ready to accept your love for me; that would be very wrong. But when you share my last name, you'll be much quicker in sharing your love with me. You'll forget that merchant watcher fellow quite soon. You shall see."
With those words, he left Daphne in that room, crumpled mess on the ground that she was.
"Heh. Yes. Hackneyed," she said, in a pitiable voice.
