The room was frigid, despite the crackling fire in the hearth. The rain outside pounded against the windows with increasing ferocity, and the sound of the wind howling through the trees was almost deafening.
Beatrice sat in her room with her mother, brother, fiancé, and priest. The priest's voice seemed to echo in the quiet room, and the words of The Golden Verses seemed to make her more nervous. Each word seemed to twist and turn, as if they were taunting her, daring her to believe that help was on its way.
She tried to calm herself by focusing on the priest's words, but the more he spoke, the more she felt as though something was watching her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she could hear her heart racing in her chest.
She knew that something was wrong and that God wouldn't help her, no matter how fervently the priest prayed. The only thing that made her feel better was the priest himself, but that only made her even more conflicted.
As he spoke, Beatrice's eyes were drawn to his face, which was both soothing and captivating. His emerald-green eyes sparkled behind his glasses, which framed his chiseled features perfectly. His voice was gentle and comforting, and for a moment, she forgot all of her fears and doubts.
It was a weird experience for her, but at the same time, she felt like he was dangerous and she shouldn't have any relationship with her. It makes her remember someone.
A man attractive enough to make her throw away all her shame and give him everything she had. Her stomach knots when she thinks about that man.
After the priest was done, her mother, Duchess Alicia spoke up. "She's always been like this, seeking attention," she said, her voice sharp and dismissive.
"I'm not lying!" Beatrice protested, her anger rising. "It was a real dream! The Devil was there!" Beatrice defended herself. How could her mother say that to her when she was in a miserable condition for three days?
"Enough of your nonsense," the duchess snapped. "You're always exaggerating. Or maybe you're just making it all up."
Beatrice's brother, Arthur, stepped forward to defend her. "Don't listen to her, Priest. Please continue," he said, gesturing to the priest to proceed. He was the one who had called the priest from the Solace Temple, and he couldn't stand his sister acting like that.
"What did you say? How dare you, Arthur?! I'm your mother!" The duchess's voice rang out angrily, but he didn't care and didn't even look at his mother anymore.
He glared at Edward, whom he had never liked. To him, Edward was a failure, and his treatment of Beatrice grated on his nerves. He believed his sister deserved someone who would treat her like the most valuable treasure, someone like the crown prince, instead of the second prince with little to no accomplishments.
"And you, Edward, move somewhere else! You are in the way," he snapped, dismissing Edward with a wave of his hand.
Edward just nodded and left. This was the exact thing that Arthur hated the most about him! What a coward!
As the storm outside continued to rage, the priest approached Beatrice with a small, intricate amulet in his hand. "Take this and use it always," he said, his voice steady and wise.
"It will protect you from harm and ward off evil. And remember, dear Beatrice, fear only gives power to the Devil. You are a special child, destined for remarkable things." With a gentle smile, he placed the amulet in her hand, the cool metal sending a shiver up her arm.
Beatrice took the amulet, feeling a strange tingling in her hands as her fingers brushed against the priest. Her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn't help but feel a flutter of forbidden excitement at the touch. She quickly pushed the feeling aside, telling herself it was just her nerves.
As the priest prepared to leave, the room grew quieter, the rain outside still pounding relentlessly. Beatrice couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as the priest turned to face her once more, his eyes seeming to pierce through her. She was simultaneously drawn to him and terrified of him, unsure of what to make of her complicated feelings.
After that, Arthur insisted on accompanying Beatrice for a short while. Her mother had suddenly disappeared without notice, and Edward had excused himself for being busy, which only made Arthur more annoyed with him.
Beatrice's thoughts were interrupted when Arthur spoke up again. "You know, there are plenty of suitors who would be better than Edward. You don't have to settle for him."
"It's fine, Brother. He's a good man. That's enough for me," Beatrice replied with a weak smile. The truth was, she felt guilty about Edward because of her dream. It was the reason she always avoided him too.
Despite seeing Edward two or three times a week, their time together lacked passion and excitement. While she respected his morals, Beatrice couldn't help but yearn for the mysterious man who consumed her thoughts and desires. His touch haunted her dreams, and the guilt that consumed her was almost unbearable.
She knew it was wrong, but the longing grew stronger with each passing day. Her obsession with him was terrifying, and she felt it was a punishment for betraying God and Edward. Regret weighed heavily on her heart, but lustful feelings continued to burn within her.
…
Beatrice sat in her study room, feeling torn between her fear of the priest and the intense desire she felt for him. Despite a week passing since she had last seen him, her mind was constantly filled with thoughts of him, making it impossible for her to forget him.
With a determined expression, she began to write. The sound of the pen scratching against the paper echoed through her quiet study. She wasn't sure if she wanted to send the letter or not, but her curiosity about the mysterious priest was too strong to ignore.
After finishing her letter, she called out to her maid, Sophie, who was busy pouring her a cup of tea. "Sophie, please send this letter to the temple," Beatrice said, handing her the envelope.
"Yes, my lady. Right away," Sophie replied, bowing before leaving the room. As she closed the door behind her, Beatrice was left alone with her thoughts.
As much as Beatrice tried to push the priest out of her thoughts, he always managed to find a way back in. Her heart was in turmoil, unsure of what to do or how to proceed.
The sound of his voice and the warmth of his touch made her forget about all her fears and uncertainties, causing her to give in to her desires. But this was the thing she was terrified the most, because he was familiar with someone..
However day after day and despite her repeated attempts, Beatrice received the same disappointing response from the temple - the priest would not be able to attend to the Devonshire manor.
"I don't understand why the priest couldn't come," Beatrice said to Sophie, her frustration evident in her voice.
Yet, even with her frustration, Beatrice found herself unable to shake her curiosity for the elusive priest. His soft smile had captivated her heart, yet also left her with a sense of unease. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of him, leaving her restless and yearning for answers.
"I'm sorry, my lady, but perhaps he has other duties at the temple that he must attend to," Sophie replied, trying to soothe her mistress.
"I must meet him, Sophie. I need to know more about my condition and this amulet," Beatrice said, her voice filled with urgency as she paced back and forth in her study.
Beatrice was lying to herself; she didn't really care about the amulet. What she truly wanted was to meet the priest and unravel the mystery that surrounded him.
"I understand, my lady, but perhaps you could try again at a later time?" Sophie suggested.
"I suppose you're right, Sophie. I just can't help feeling so frustrated," Beatrice sighed
She couldn't resist getting too close to him, even though in her mind she knew it was dangerous. The Devil had stopped visiting her dreams, and her agitation had subsided, even when the fear was still there. But the priest was the new source of her perplexity.
Then, she sent another letter and received good news that the priest will come in two days. Beatrice's heart skipped a beat in anticipation.
She had been longing for this meeting, but at the same time, she was nervous about what it would bring. Beatrice spent the next two days in a flurry of activity, preparing herself mentally and physically for the priest's arrival.
She picked out her finest dress, arranged fresh flowers in the drawing room, and rehearsed what she would say. As the time of his arrival approached, Beatrice could feel her heart pounding in her chest with both excitement and anxiety.