Here’s Chapter One of First Novel!
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At long last, it’s done.
After countless late nights, rewrites, and moments of self-doubt, I’ve finally finished my novel—a historical dark romance with a thread of adventure woven through its pages. English is my second language (Afrikaans is my first), and I’m not a seasoned writer, but this story comes straight from the heart.
As promised, I’m excited to share the first chapter with you all. I want to thank my friends, especially all my social media friends, for your incredible patience, encouragement, support, and honest feedback along the way.
Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments. I’d love to hear what you think.
Chapter 1.
A whirlwind of awe and confusion swirled within Maybeth as her fingers brushed over the gown’s exquisite fabric. The embroidery’s richness and the material’s delicate shimmer — never had she worn anything so breathtaking. Layers of soft yellow fabric cascaded around her, and a green satin ribbon was fastened at her waist, making her feel elegant and sophisticated, evoking a rare sense of pride in her appearance. Yet, a persistent question gnawed at the edges of her mind. How could her mother afford such a dress? She knows that they do not have many coins or valuables. Her brothers’ fishing efforts provided enough to cover their basic needs. When Carlo, her eldest brother, was old enough, he had to fish alone. Soon after, he began teaching Niccolo, her twin, taking him out to sea each morning until they became the family’s sole providers. Yet, as she studied the exquisite dress, unease settled in her chest. She couldn’t shake the suspicion that her mother had obtained it dishonestly — but she had no proof. Her father’s abandonment worsens their financial struggles, making the dress seem like an unnecessary luxury, given their tough situation. She admires the garment, especially since they expect an important visitor today. But she feels guilty wearing it. Deep down, she knows her mother is up to no good. Maybeth watches the ocean through the small window. Inhaling the familiar salty aroma, she closed her eyes.
Several weeks ago, her mother started acting oddly, going alone to the marketplace every day and always returning with something expensive and unaffordable in her possession. Niccolo peeks around the door, laughter dancing in his eyes. “Mother wants to know if you’re ready.” She shifts her gaze from the ocean and gives him an awkward smile. “I don’t believe so, no. Why do I have to get all puffed up for a visitor? What makes this man so important? I’m unsure what Mother is plotting this time, but I don’t like it.” “Come on, May,” Niccolo laughed as he stepped inside. “You look lovely, and I doubt Mother would ever do anything to harm you. She told me you’re engaged to a powerful land baron from Calvuldom. At least you’ll have the chance to leave this struggling life behind. Just think of it — my sister, a noble. A baroness!” Her breath caught in her throat, sending shivers down her spine. His words, “…you are engaged to be married to a powerful land baron from Calvuldom…” echo in her mind. A sudden heaviness settles in her chest, tightening with each beat. She fights the urge to clutch at her heart. She never wanted this. She thought the man was just a visitor. But she knows too well she has no say in the matter. “I don’t want to get married!” Maybeth’s voice trembles with shock. “Luxury means nothing to me; I’m happy with our simple life.” Niccolo’s laughter fades from his eyes, replaced by a deep sadness. He walks over to her, unsure what to say. He thought she would happily leave this poor fisherman’s life behind. Then she smiles at him. “Thank you, Niccolo. Please let Mother know I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Hey,” Niccolo’s tone softened as he drew her closer for a hug, “you will be fine.” Maybeth sighed, wrapping her arms around her brother. “I don’t want to marry someone I don’t know. I don’t want to leave our home.” “I know,” Niccolo said, gently rubbing her back. “Maybe Mother will change her mind once she sees how unhappy you are.” “Do you really think that’s possible?” Niccolo nodded, offering a comforting smile. “If she doesn’t, you’d be better off, May. You’re my sister, and I love you. I don’t want to see you unhappy. Put a smile on that pretty face. Besides, I know you. It won’t be long before you ask your hubby-to-be if your family can move in with you. Won’t that just be grand?” She swallowed back her tears and leaned into his embrace. “Thank you, Niccolo. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He leaves her alone with her tangled thoughts. She gently slaps her face with her hands to add color to her pale complexion. Perhaps she’ll be lucky, and her mother will change her mind about this ridiculous marriage. “Maybeth, you look stunning.” Antonia stepped back, her hands on her daughter’s shoulders as she studied her carefully. “Lord Adriano will be enchanted.” “Mother…” Maybeth’s voice wavered as she looked away. “I’m not sure if I want to marry a man I’ve never met. Nothing about this feels right, don’t you agree? I know Grandad made you marry someone you didn’t know, and look what happened — Father just left us without a word.” Antonia’s fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Enough of that, Maybeth Dea. Whining won’t change anything. Your father left us with nothing — this is our chance to rise from this miserable existence.” She said with a trace of desperation in her voice. “This is no ordinary fisherman. Lord Adriano De Luca is a respected, wealthy noble from Calvuldom. Just imagine it — a luxurious life. With servants at your service, you won’t have to worry about scrubbing floors or making beds anymore. Doesn’t that sound like a dream?”
A deep sense of dread settled in Maybeth as she looked down at the green grass beneath her feet, its calm beauty a stark contrast to the storm swirling within her. To steady herself, she focused on the delicate blades of grass, their edges trembling in the breeze, as her mother’s words echoed relentlessly in her mind. Her mother harbored grand illusions — a life of prestige, status, and admiration. Every glance, every gesture spoke of that insatiable yearning. For Maybeth, it was clear. This marriage was not about her future. It was about her mother’s unyielding ambition for a life she wanted but could never have. “…And May,” Antonia added, her voice lowering to a cautious whisper, “promise me… don’t let that curse ruin our chances. There’s no reason for Lord Adriano to know about it. People can be cruel, and if they find out…” She paused, her face reflecting a sudden deep fear. And then, after a tense silence, Antonia’s expression softened as her fingers brushed a stray curl from Maybeth’s cheek. “The Costa name still has a shred of respect here. Let’s try to keep it that way, shall we?” “I have no intention of harming our name, Mother,” Maybeth replied. A chill crept up her spine as the distant clatter of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels reached her ears. She glared at the dusty, winding road that ran past their small adobe. “Is that your land baron?” she asked with a sarcastic tone. Antonia ignored the tone, her eyes shining with excitement. “Just look at that carriage! It’s so grand and magnificent.” She clasped her hands together, her breath quickening. “I know it, Maybeth. Our lives are about to change — I can feel it.”
“Change isn’t always a good thing,” Maybeth muttered, almost to herself, her gaze lingering on the gilded carriage. Something about its polished grandeur felt… wrong. The unease twisted in her stomach, deeper now, as if warning her of some unseen danger. To Maybeth, it felt more like the onset of something dark and unyielding. The carriage rolled closer. Its ornate gold trim caught the fading sunlight. Each edge gleamed with a magnificence that felt out of place in the modest seaside setting. The door displayed a family crest with intricate carvings. It showed a snarling wolf entwined in twisting vines and the family name, De Luca, beneath it. This striking design served as a powerful reminder of wealth and authority. The crest was beautiful. The carriage came to a stop, and a servant in a sleek black uniform swiftly leaped down from the rear. He opened the door with a low bow, and a tall man emerged from within. In a tailored, maroon velvet jerkin, with subtle gold embroidery, he looked every bit the noble. Beneath his jerkin, a finely woven shirt of ivory linen peeked through, its cuffs fastened with small, polished brass buttons. His dark, fitted leggings accentuated his lean body and ended in high, polished leather boots that had a faint sheen, as if they had recently been cleaned. His rich brown hair was parted down the center and fell just past his ears in loose, controlled waves. His deep chestnut eyes scanned the surroundings with a piercing, assessing gaze, pausing on their small adobe home before finally settling on Maybeth. Something about the way he looked at her felt upsetting, as if he were sizing her up — measuring and calculating.
Maybeth watched him as he walked closer, each deliberate step emphasizing his control with confidence that everything he surveyed already belonged to him. “What a privilege it is to welcome you, Lord Adriano De Luca, to our humble home,” Antonia said, adopting an elegant demeanor as she gestured toward their small adobe. “You must be weary from your long journey, my Lord. May I offer you some refreshments? Would you like a plate of fruit or a glass of wine?” Maybeth felt irritation wash over her as her mother’s tone shifted to a fake, refined accent, as if charm alone could disguise the cracks in their worn adobe walls. She rolled her eyes and shifted her weight, observing as Antonia performed a respectful curtsy. The baron smiled, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly impose on such generous hospitality. My health is rather delicate,” he replied, a mocking smile playing on his lips. “I worry that any vintage produced here might be… an acquired taste.” He continued, “You see, I’ve developed quite a refined appetite. It requires a certain sophistication to appreciate the finer things in life, and unfortunately, your offerings do not quite meet that standard. I must regretfully decline.” He glanced briefly at Maybeth, his eyes flashing with mild amusement as he seemed to enjoy her discomfort.
Despite his thinly veiled insult, Antonia’s expression stayed hopeful. Her forced smile remained in place, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of worry. Her tone was nearly pleading. “Please, Maybeth, remember your manners. You know you should bow to a noble,” she whispered urgently, as if showing respect could somehow erase the sting of his insult. Frustration surged within Maybeth, prickling beneath her skin. She hated the helplessness, the way these nobles wielded power so carelessly, drowning in their own narcissism. The baron’s smile twisted into something even more taunting. “Yes, Maybeth,” he said, his voice smooth yet cold, “it would be such a pity if your lack of… refinement were to tarnish your family’s good name any further.” Each word landed like the tip of a blade, sharp and precise. Maybeth’s nails bit into her palms, her pulse quickening as she wrestled with the urge to snap back — or flee from his sight. He watched her, lingering on each flicker of emotion that crossed her face as if waiting for a single crack in her calm composure. She wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of his so-called delicate health, but Antonia’s urgent stare held her back. With a barely concealed sigh, she gave a stiff, reluctant curtsy, this time looking directly into the baron’s cold, appraising stare. “It’s… an honor to have you here, Lord Adriano De Luca,” Maybeth said confidently. Antonia gave another deep curtsy. “My deepest apologies, my Lord. My beautiful daughter is still learning the finer points of etiquette.” She gestured toward Maybeth. “Her full name is Maybeth Dea Costa.” Adriano’s eyes moved over Maybeth, beginning at her face and slowly traveling down her slender figure. “I can’t say that she is exactly a picture of beauty. She reminds me of a wild ruffian,” he said. “But fear not. If fortune favors us, perhaps we can refine her manners and improve her rather rough personality.” He paused for a moment. “But I must ask — why does she have such unusual red hair?” Antonia’s smile seemed to brighten even more. “Oh, the auburn hair comes from her father’s side,” she said, dismissing it as a trivial detail. His insults and barely concealed contempt did not seem to affect her at all. This was her golden opportunity, her chance to step into the life she had always dreamed of, and nothing would derail her ambitions. Maybeth’s cheeks burned as the baron’s words sank in. She clenched her teeth but remained still, calm, and rooted under his watching eyes. The sting of his remarks crushed her, yet her mother nodded in agreement, either oblivious to his scorn or simply too desperate to care. The noble flinched as the carriage door slammed shut by a sudden blast of wind.
The servant let out a startled, almost ladylike shriek. Antonia shot a glare at Maybeth, her lips pressed tightly together and her eyes narrowing in a silent warning: Not now. “Please forgive the winds here, my Lord,” Antonia uttered an apology. “They can be… unpredictable on the coast.”
Adriano responded with a slight flick of his wrist. The servant approached, reaching into his coat to produce a small velvet pouch, which Adriano took without a word. He let it rest in his palm, feeling the weight of the coins, then raised his eyes to Antonia with a thin, satisfied smile. “Well, this settles the matter of the girl,” he said, his tone casual as if he were discussing the purchase of livestock. “She is not flawless, but she’ll serve well enough as my new wife.” A cold shock spread through Maybeth’s chest, and her eyes widened as she looked at her mother. How could she sell her off like this? It’s one thing to give your daughter away in marriage, but to sell her… The betrayal twisted in her gut and nearly stole her breath. Antonia, however, remained unmoved. Her eyes went from Maybeth to the pouch and then to Adriano, realizing the pouch was larger than those he had sent previously. Her fingers reached eagerly to take the pouch from the baron’s hand. “Maybeth, are you ready to go? It’s getting dark, and the journey to De Luca Estate is long, so we shouldn’t waste time.” He sounded impatient. Maybeth turned to her mother, tugging Antonia’s sleeve, desperate to pull her away from her fascination with the velvet pouch. “Mother, please! I thought… I thought a woman only goes to her husband’s house after marriage,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. Adriano’s smirk grew wider. “Not in this case, my darling,” he replied smoothly. “And, you won’t need to bring any belongings — nothing here is suitable for your new life. I will provide everything you require.” Her heart pounded in disbelief. It was as though her life, her family, and her home were all slipping away. She forced herself to ask. “But what about my family? Will I… will I ever see them again?” He looked surprised at Maybeth. He waved his hand dismissively. “Antonia, I will send a carriage for the rest of you tomorrow morning. You mentioned that your two sons are healthy, correct? I have lands to maintain, and labor is always in demand. I can provide a cottage near the mansion for you and your family. In return, your sons will work for me.” Maybeth cast a desperate glance at her mother, hoping to see some sign of concern. However, Antonia’s eyes sparkled at the mention of the estate, her smile brightening as she envisioned their future. “My lordship, you are incredibly generous,” Antonia exclaimed. Maybeth clenched her fists. “Please, let me say goodbye to my brothers,” she said as she turned and rushed toward the small adobe without waiting for Adriano’s consent.
Inside, her brothers and sister-in-law were waiting for her. They had overheard everything. “This is it,” Maybeth sobbed. “Mother sold me to that horrible man, and I can’t stop it. I came to say goodbye… we’re leaving.” Vivian, her sister-in-law, stepped forward and took her hands, her own eyes filling with tears. “Don’t cry, Maybeth,” she said gently. “We’ll be together again before you know it. Within a day or two, we’ll all be on the estate. And with any luck, Carlo will have some extra coins to provide Divan-Carlo with a better future.” Maybeth wiped away her tears and took a shaky breath as she looked from Vivian to her brothers, both of whom wore sad expressions. “You’re not getting rid of us so easily, you silly flapfish,” Niccolo teased as he hugged her. “We’ll look after you. Nothing could keep me away from my sister.” She clung to him as her tears soaked his shoulder. Carlo stepped forward, kissing her forehead tenderly. “Go on now. The man’s waiting, and you know his type — they have no patience. We’ll see you soon.” He forced a smile. “Be strong, little sis.” She looked at each of them one last time. Her heart felt heavy yet strengthened by their words. As she stepped out, her gaze fell on the rugged, windswept coastal adobe one final time, the place that had been her world. Seated across from him, she turned her face toward the window, trying to avoid his gaze. Yet, under the faint light spilling into the carriage, he could see the trail of tears glistening on her cheeks, reflecting the silver glow of the night. She was not unattractive — quite the opposite. There was a raw elegance about her that he was certain could be refined and polished to his liking with the proper guidance.
He watched her closely, noticing the spark in her gray-blue eyes as they gazed out into the darkness, filled with an emotion she couldn’t conceal. He had seen women cry before, but there was something different about her expression — a quality that he found both intriguing and unsettling. Her unusual eyes were not quite ordinary, yet they were also not intense or changeable enough to suggest royalty. However, they held a flicker of strength, one he would ensure was tempered under his guidance. For now, though, he granted her this moment. Soon enough, that spirit and her candid words would require guidance, and he would make sure she learned how to carry herself appropriately. His mind drifted back to that fateful night at the Old Barrel Inn. He recalled the dim light casting long shadows as he lost himself in one too many tankards of ale, feeling carefree and loose-lipped. It was then, amidst the clinking of glasses and muffled laughter, that he accidentally revealed words he had never dared to speak aloud: the cursed will of his father. The De Luca Estate was more than an inheritance. To him, it was the bedrock of his family’s power. Whoever held it commanded not just wealth but a legacy that could open doors across Edraa. The estate would pass to the first son to marry and produce an heir. It was maddening, and he cursed himself for letting the secret slip that drunken night. Yet luck, it seemed, had been on his side that evening at the Old Barrel Inn. He’d been sinking in ale, brooding over the curse of his father’s stipulation, when a woman named Antonia Costa had moved closer to him. She made a blunt and brazen offer: her seventeen-year-old daughter for a fee. In return, Adriano would secure his heir — and his inheritance. At first, he’d scoffed, but then her words turned in his mind like a tempting promise. The will made no mention of status. A girl of common birth would serve just as well as any noblewoman, and Antonia’s price was almost laughable. Yet he hesitated for a moment, aware of how Marco, his younger brother, would react to such a choice. Marco had always babbled on about true love, about finding a soulmate who’d be worth all the riches in the world. Only a few weeks ago, Marco had spoken with an unusual passion about a mysterious woman he was to present at the prince’s welcoming ball. Adriano had shaken his head, dismissing it as childish. Such sentiment was a luxury he couldn’t afford; the fortune demanded practicality, not poetry. The carriage jolted on the rough road, stirring Adriano’s thoughts back to the present. Across from him, the girl had fallen asleep, her head tipped back against the worn upholstery. Maybeth shifted, her eyelashes fluttering as a single tear slipped down her cheek. Adriano’s gaze lingered. He hadn’t expected her to be quite so lovely. His own goals had never left room for romance, yet he knew well enough the power of beauty in securing favor and respect.
One thing was certain: her spirit would have to be tamed, her mind molded, and he would do what was necessary. He leaned back in his seat, watching the girl as the carriage rumbled through the dark, winding path toward his estate. The De Luca Estate loomed tall and proud against the dawn, its grand mansion framed by sweeping lawns and meticulously cultivated gardens bursting with color. Maybeth stirred awake, a soft groan escaping her lips as she stretched out and looked through the carriage window at the towering mansion. The sheer scale and elegance were overwhelming, a world apart from her humble coastal adobe. She couldn’t quite believe she was about to enter a place so clearly reserved for society’s elite. “Welcome to De Luca Estate,” Adriano said as he extended his hand to help her out of the carriage. The offer was barely more than a formality, and when Maybeth took his hand to step down, her foot caught on the hem of her dress. She stumbled, landing hard on the stone drive. “Careful,” Adriano mocked. “Wouldn’t want you to turn up tonight at the ball looking like you’ve lost a fight with the floor.” He leaned closer, his voice low. “Though I suppose it would make quite the impression.” Before she could reply, a young man was at her side, helping her to her feet. “Are you all right?” he asked with genuine kindness. “Apologies for my brother’s…well, never mind him. I’m Marco Matteo, the younger of the two De Luca blood brothers,” he said with a smile, his voice warm and calming. “And you must be the lovely Maybeth. Welcome.” He bent and, in a gesture both gentle and charming, kissed her hand. Maybeth felt her cheeks heat up. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lord Marco,” she replied, almost shyly. “Oh, please,” Marco chuckled. “Just Marco will do. You’re one of us now, after all. Here, formality is saved for the royals and those who love to hear their titles spoken.” He cast a quick, teasing glance toward Adriano, whose expression remained stony. He cleared his throat impatiently. “Marco, since you’re so eager to play the welcoming party, why don’t you see Maybeth to her chamber? And please,” he added, his voice hardening, “have Bellen tutor her on the basics — manners, etiquette, and how to carry herself like someone worthy of the De Luca name.” He paused, his tone growing colder. “Heaven forbid she embarrasses me tonight with her…well, let’s just call them ‘ruffian’ ways.”
Maybeth’s lips parted, stung by his words, her face flushed with embarrassment. But before she could say a word, Marco took her arm, his touch light but steady. “Come on, let’s leave my brother to his ‘errands’ and get you settled,” he said gently, giving Adriano a stern look. As they walked away, Adriano’s voice trailed behind them, taunting, “Oh, and Maybeth — try not to trip over yourself on the way. We wouldn’t want our new noble to get too familiar with the grounds.” Marco pauses for a second, then keeps on walking. “Ignore him,” he whispered, casting an apologetic glance her way. “He…forgets that kindness is the mark of a true noble. Besides, we have much better things to focus on than his arrogance.” He gave her a reassuring smile, and she felt more at ease for the first time since her arrival. “What is wrong with your brother? He traveled so far and paid a lot of coins to get me, yet he abandoned me once we got here, humiliated and alone. Why did you stop me from telling him how I feel about his rudeness?” She can feel the tears of disgrace and anger stinging her eyes. “Please accept my sincerest apologies, Maybeth.” He gives her hand another kiss. “You have a lovely name that befits you well. I will tell you everything about my brother, but now is not the time or place. Even though my brother is not a good person, I need you to trust me and believe I only have the best intentions. Do not offend or provoke him, please. I beg you. When you are around him, please control your emotions. I promise to explain everything in due time.” She can’t help but be curious about what Marco wants to say to her. He led her through the clear, echoing corridors, watching her as if he sensed her unease. When they reached her chamber, he opened the door and stepped back, gesturing for her to go inside. “Until you marry Adriano, this will be your chamber. You should get enough rest. I will be here to escort you to the welcoming ball.” He gestured to the room, adding, “Bellen will be here shortly to help you prepare for the occasion. She’ll make sure you find the right gown for the evening.” With that, Marco bowed slightly, his eyes lingering on hers for a moment before he closed the door behind him, leaving her in silence.
Her heart sank as she took in her surroundings, the sheer luxury overwhelming her senses. The chamber was vast, nearly twice the size of her family’s entire adobe by the coast. Sunlight poured in from tall, arched windows, casting a golden glow across polished stone floors and delicate, patterned rugs that softened each step. Intricate tapestries hung on the walls, depicting scenes of forests and flowers, with a quiet grandeur she had only heard about in stories. A massive redwood canopy bed stood against a stone wall, draped in sheer yellow and ivory curtains. Hesitantly, she ran her fingers over the soft bedspread, her hand sinking into layers of thick, feather-filled quilts and pillows. It felt like touching a cloud and was very different from the straw mattress bed she had known her whole life. She sank onto the edge of the bed, her weight making a dent in its softness. Her fingers clutched the bedspread as her emotions whirled within her — disbelief, wonder, and a dull ache that reminded her this was now her new life. This was the largest home she had ever stepped foot in, and it felt so different from what she was used to. A hollow feeling settled in her chest. Her vision blurred from the gathering tears as she realized the gilded beauty of this place came with an iron chain. Overwhelmed, she finally gave in to the tears, and her shoulders started to shake as she buried her face in her hands. The bed was so soft that it seemed to cradle her, pulling her down. She slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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Please leave a comment, or if you have any questions about the novel, leave a comment or send an email to coetzee.ietsanders@gmail.com
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