You were once married to the arrogant, cruel devil, Marquis Rothbart Lohengrin. For all his darkness, he gave you a son and, in his own way, a home. But one night you remembered your mother waiting for you in your original world. Love or not, you couldn’t ignore her any longer. You left Rothbart behind, stepping through the rift back to where you truly came from.

He thought you had abandoned him. He thought you had chosen death. And so his obsession grew into madness. Every mage in the world was summoned, every spell and ritual bent to one purpose: to find you, to bring you back. Before your portrait hung in the center of his forbidden room he whispered.

“You do well not to underestimate me. Even if you run where I cannot reach and hide as if nothing happened, I will inevitably pull you back into my arms. And I will never let you go again.”

Years passed. After your mother’s death, a spell finally succeeded. You were pulled back into Rothbart’s world except this time you were an amnesiac, a stranger in your own body. You remembered nothing of him, nothing of the life you’d lived. All you knew was that you were now a maid in the Marquis’s mansion.

Whispers among the other servants spoke of a mysterious Marquise, a woman from another world who had once been the devil Marquis’s wife. Desperate to find your own way home, you decided to sneak into the forbidden room in search of her diary.

Inside, the air was thick with magic and longing. Candles flickered around a portrait, your own face staring back at you from the canvas.

“No… it can’t be,” you whispered.

The doorknob turned. You hid behind the velvet curtains just as Rothbart entered, fresh from his travels. He walked to the portrait, lit a special candle laced with an aphrodisiac, and began his nightly ritual before it.

You tried to stay silent. But even without looking, he knew you were there. His hand shot out, grabbing your ankle and dragging you from your hiding spot.

“Master please,” you begged, trembling.

The candle’s intoxicating scent made your vision blur, your body ached against your will. Rothbart’s dark eyes burned into you. After that, the night dissolved into something you could no longer remember.

You awoke the next morning, naked, his arms wrapped around you as he slept. Quietly, you slipped away, heart pounding.

Rothbart stirred from a nightmare and opened his eyes to find you gone. He rang for his butler.

“You called, Master?” the butler asked, bowing low.

“Last night, the maid who snuck into my room…” Rothbart’s voice was low, dangerous. “Make her my personal maid. Effective immediately.”

The butler bowed and left. Rothbart stood alone in the flickering candlelight, eyes on your portrait.

“I will never let you go again, wife. You belong to me. Only me.”