Page 97 of Married to a Frozen Duke
"That's for her to decide, Your Grace," Charles shot back. "She's your wife, not your prisoner. Though looking at this place, it's hard to tell the difference."
They left, and Ophelia heard their footsteps retreating down the corridor, leaving her alone with Alexander in the gallery amid the broken glass and shattered porcelain.
"This is what I was afraid of," Alexander said after a long moment, his voice tired now rather than angry. "This is what happens when Coleridges and Montclaires try to mix. Destruction."
"The only thing being destroyed here is any chance we had of making this marriage work," Ophelia said quietly.
"We can make it work if..."
"If I cut off my family? If I become the silent, perfect duchess you want? If I stop being a Coleridge and somehow transform into an Montclaire?"
"If you try to understand the position you're in now and act accordingly."
"I understand my position perfectly, Alexander. I'm an unwanted wife from an unsuitable family, tolerated for the sake of an inheritance and expected to be grateful for the privilege of bearing your name while being constantly reminded of my inadequacy."
"That's not..."
"Isn't it? Then tell me, honestly, without deflection or careful words...do you see me as your equal? As your partner? Or am I just the Coleridge curse you have to endure?"
He was quiet for too long, and that was answer enough.
"I thought so," she said, and the defeat in her voice seemed to affect him more than her anger had.
"Ophelia..."
"I need to say goodbye to my brothers."
"I've told them to leave."
"Yes, you've made your feelings quite clear. But they're still my brothers, and I will say goodbye to them properly."
She started to leave, but his voice stopped her.
"The vase can't be repaired. It's completely destroyed."
"I know. I'm sorry about that, truly. It was wrong of them to be so careless with your things."
"My things," he repeated. "You keep saying that. They're our things now. This is our house."
"No, Alexander. This is your house where I'm allowed to live as long as I follow your rules and don't embarrass you with my common relations. There's a significant difference."
She found Charles and Edward in their rooms, throwing belongings into their trunks with barely suppressed fury.
"You don't have to leave," she said from the doorway.
"Yes, we do," Charles said without looking at her. "His Lordship has spoken."
"His Grace," she corrected automatically, then winced. "Sorry, that's..."
"That's what you do now," Edward said, but not unkindly. "Correct people, maintain proper forms of address, be the perfect duchess."
"I'm not perfect at anything."
"No, but you're trying to be, for him. And it's painful to watch, Phee."
Charles finally turned to look at her, and she was startled to see tears in his eyes. "We just wanted to see you happy. Or at least not miserable. But you're disappearing, bit by bit, trying to fit into his world."
"I don't have a choice."
