The knock on the door came precisely at noon, sharp, unwavering, and filled with unspoken authority. Marcus and Candy had been expecting them, but that didn’t make it any less dreadful. Marcus took a deep breath and opened the door. Two figures stepped inside, exuding the suffocating air of Paddlewickian discipline.

  The first was Mrs. Edwina Prim, a tall, thin woman; her back as straight as a steel rod, her dress high-necked and starched to perfection. Her pursed lips and sharp eyes scanned the room with the keen scrutiny of a woman who had never once tolerated nonsense.

  Beside her stood Officer Reginald Strapforth—a heavyset man in the crisp navy-and-gold uniform of the Paddlewick Domestic Order Division. His boots shined, his belt was polished, and the rge wooden paddle strapped to his hip gleamed ominously. Candy’s stomach twisted into knots.

  "Mr. Elwood," Mrs. Prim greeted Marcus stiffly, inclining her head. "And Mrs. Elwood."

  The name felt like poison.

  "Good afternoon," Marcus said, formal and careful. Candy? She said nothing. And Mrs. Prim noticed. Her gaze snapped to Candy like a hawk spotting prey.

  "A wife should always greet her guests properly," she said, tone cool as ice. "Try again, girl." Candy’s jaw tightened. Every part of her wanted to refuse. But she couldn’t afford defiance. Not yet. She lowered her gaze, hating herself for it, and forced the words out through gritted teeth.

  "Good afternoon, ma’am. Good afternoon, sir." Mrs. Prim eyed her for a long, heavy moment. Then, with the slightest nod, she turned to Marcus.

  "Shall we begin?"

  The Purpose of the Visits

  Mrs. Prim and Officer Strapforth took their seats in the parlor, while Candy stood awkwardly beside Marcus, her hands clenched beneath her skirts. Mrs. Prim set down a leather-bound ledger on the table.

  "As you are aware, the first months of marriage are critical for shaping a wife’s proper habits," she said primly, flipping through pages of official documentation. "New brides, particurly those of… difficult temperaments, require structured guidance to ensure they do not become burdens upon their households." Candy’s fists clenched tighter beneath the table. "To that end," Officer Strapforth added, his voice deep and authoritative, "we will be conducting weekly evaluations to ensure Mrs. Elwood is adjusting as expected."

  Candy barely contained her scoff. Expected? She wasn’t supposed to adjust, she was supposed to fold. Mrs. Prim continued, as if she hadn’t noticed Candy’s tension.

  "We will assess her progress in the following categories." She flipped a page in her ledger and read aloud:

  Weekly Evaluation Criteria:

  Speech & Address – A wife must speak with grace and respect, referring to her husband as Husband or Sir.Appearance & Presentation – A wife must dress in a manner befitting her status, including properly ced corsets and appropriate attire.Domestic Responsibilities – A wife must demonstrate aptitude in household duties, including cooking, cleaning, and proper hosting.Obedience & Attitude – A wife must accept instruction from her husband without resistance.Correction & Discipline – A wife must acknowledge the necessity of discipline and accept her husband’s authority in all matters.Candy’s breath came sharp and shallow as the words sank in.

  "We will observe Mrs. Elwood’s behavior, interview both of you, and make recommendations for improvement where necessary," Mrs. Prim said. "If required, Officer Strapforth may personally demonstrate proper corrective measures," she added without emotion, as if that weren’t the most horrifying thing Candy had ever heard. She swallowed hard.

  Marcus stiffened beside her. "I… I understand." Mrs. Prim gave a small approving nod.

  "Shall we begin the first assessment?"

  The First Assessment: Addressing Her Husband

  Mrs. Prim folded her hands in her p. "Candy, dear," she said, voice dripping with false sweetness. "How do you address your husband?" Candy hesitated. Because she knew the answer. But she didn’t want to say it. She gnced at Marcus, desperately searching for some escape, but his face was unreadable. The silence stretched too long. Mrs. Prim’s expression darkened. "Your husband is the head of this household, is he not?" she prompted. Candy’s throat was tight.

  "Yes, ma’am."

  "Then address him properly,” Mrs. Prim instructed. Candy’s nails dug into her palms. Her heart pounded. She wanted to spit in their faces. She wanted to burn this house down. She wanted to be Camden again. But she wasn’t. She was Candy. A wife. And so, in a voice barely above a whisper, she forced it out.

  "Sir, how may I serve you today?” Marcus’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Mrs. Prim smiled.

  "Good girl."

  Candy wanted to die.

  The Next Steps

  Mrs. Prim scribbled a note in her ledger.

  "A passable first attempt. We will expect improvement next week—confidence, warmth, and sincerity are required in a wife’s address. There must be no hesitation." Officer Strapforth gnced up from his notebook.

  "And discipline?" he asked.

  Candy’s blood ran cold. Mrs. Prim pursed her lips. "Not yet." Candy exhaled shakily.

  "First, she must understand why correction is necessary," Mrs. Prim continued. "Discipline without understanding is cruelty. And we are not cruel." Candy bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood.

  "By next week," Mrs. Prim concluded, rising from her seat, "we expect her to demonstrate grace, acceptance, and obedience. If she struggles…" She gnced at Officer Strapforth. "…we will intervene." Marcus’s fists curled at his sides. Candy’s entire body felt frozen. Mrs. Prim turned back to her, giving one st assessing look.

  "You will learn, girl. All wives do." And then, just like that, they left.

  The Aftermath

  The door shut behind them. The silence was deafening. Candy felt sick. Marcus let out a long, shuddering breath and turned to her.

  "Are you alright?" Candy’s ugh was hollow and bitter.

  "Oh, absolutely, Marcus," she said, voice shaking with fury. "I’ve just been informed that next week, if I don’t py the perfect wife, they’ll beat it into me. I am just splendid." Marcus closed his eyes, guilt twisting his face. Candy took a slow step toward him, her voice deadly quiet.

  "Fix this," she whispered. "Before it’s too te." Marcus had no answer, because they both knew there was nothing to fix. This was just Paddelwick.