Briana's back pressed against the door, her gaze locked onto Beatrice with a mixture of fear and apprehension.
"M... mother?" She muttered.
Beatrice wore a subtle smile, her electric blue eyes observing Briana's reactions meticulously. With deliberate grace, she approached Briana, each step calculated and deliberate. "My dearest daughter, I've been awaiting your presence," she stated in an elegant tone, coming to a stop before Briana. A gentle hand lifted Briana's chin, her lips curving into a serene smile. "Now, please enlighten me on your whereabouts," she inquired calmly, though Briana could detect the underlying hunger for information in her dilated pupils. Briana swallowed nervously before answering, her voice wavering, "I went outside to get some fresh air."
Beatrice's tone sharpened as she repeated the question, her voice stern. "Where did you go?" The intensity in her eyes seemed to pierce through Briana's composure, making her feel exposed and vulnerable. Briana hesitated, feeling a wave of unease wash over her under the pressure of Beatrice's unwavering gaze.
"Speak up!" Beatrice's impatience sharpened her tone. "Is your voice gone? Quit wasting my time!"
Briana involuntarily flinched, her gaze dropping as she murmured, "I can't speak if you won't allow me."
Unmoved, Beatrice revealed with an emotionless gaze, "You wouldn't divulge anything even under torture, so don't concern yourself. I've already inquired with your former maid."
"Former maid?" Briana inquired, her gaze questioning and uncertain.
"Yes, I dismissed her," Beatrice replied.
"But mother!" Briana's protest came out as a shout.
"Silence, young lady," Beatrice's command silenced Briana instantly.
"You went to meet Lord Gavriel, didn't you?" Beatrice's whisper carried a dangerous edge. Briana's breath hitched, and she pressed her lips together to stifle any sounds from escaping.
With an eerily quiet tone, Beatrice murmured, "Did he lay a hand on you?" Briana's breath hitched, her lips trembling as she shook her head, unable to find her voice.
"Why the silence?! Answer me you fool?!" Beatrice's frustration escalated, her grip on Briana's shoulders tight and painful. A cry of pain escaped Briana as she felt Beatrice's nails digging into her skin. "Yes, I did go see him, but I assure you, he didn't touch me. I attempted to entice him, but he turned me down," Briana managed to stammer out between gasps for air.
Beatrice's triumphant smirk eased some of Briana's tension, if only momentarily. A sudden onslaught left Briana reeling, the sting of the slap radiating across her cheek.
As Beatrice turned to leave, the lingering weight of her mother's fury hung in the air. Briana gingerly touched her throbbing cheek, whispering to herself, "Mother has never resorted to this. Eveloria is to blame."
Exhausted and in pain, she sank to the floor, hugging her knees tightly. Slowly, she began to rock back and forth, the fatigue of the ordeal taking over until she eventually drifted into sleep.
***
The following day, Marlene stood at Eveloria's chamber door, rapping gently, yet met with no reply.
The realization struck that Eveloria was likely engrossed at the training grounds. Marlene let out a soft sigh, poised to depart. Yet, a shift in the air caused her to halt, catching sight of Eveloria's approach.
Eveloria's querying gaze fixed upon the bouquet of roses and chrysanthemums held in Marlene's grasp.
A look of surprise crossed Eveloria's features as she inquired, "Marlene, are those... meant for me?"
With an anticipatory smile, Marlene confirmed, "Indeed, they are a gift from Lord Gavriel."
Handing over the bouquet, Marlene's departure left Eveloria in a state of bewilderment. Returning to her room, she sank onto the bed, the bouquet still clutched in her hand, and observed it meticulously.
'What drove him to send flowers?' she wondered, her brows knitting in scrutiny.
Disapproval etched her voice as she muttered to herself, "They're hardly my favored blooms. He failed to even inquire about my preferences."
In a matter of moments, a small note amid the blossoms caught her eye. It read, "I hope you appreciate these, and if not, do inform me. - Yours, Gavriel."
The sentiment of the note invoked a resigned sigh from her.
Nonetheless, her vexation remained. Setting the bouquet aside on the nightstand, Eveloria crossed the room and gazed out of the window.
"I'll be giving those to Marlene," she resolved with a determined exhale.
As a week transpired, Eveloria was greeted with an influx of gifts, tender letters, and floral arrangements from Lord Gavriel. While she held a genuine affection for flowers since her childhood, their origin proved a point of irritation.
"This needs to stop ," Eveloria murmured, her eyes fixed upon the ceiling in contemplation.
***
At the entrance of Ravenshield's Manor, Lord Gavriel made his arrival, striding confidently into the estate's embrace.
Within the manor's confines, the ever-vigilant servants immediately extended their greetings, as if they had been awaiting his presence. Gavriel intended to find reprieve upon the parlor couch, yet his intention was curbed when a servant interjected.
"Lord Gavriel, Duchess Beatrice wishes to meet with you, immediately," the servant declared. This interruption stirred an eyebrow raise from Gavriel, marking the peculiarity of the circumstance.
'It's been a while,' he mused with an undertone of amusement, then complying, he nodded gracefully, acknowledging the servant and Sir Kord as they followed him out of the parlor. They made their way through the enchanting garden, guided by the servant, until they reached the serene gazebo where Duchess Beatrice was gracefully seated. With a deep bow, Gavriel approached her, his head slightly lifted in respect.
"Duchess Beatrice," he uttered softly, awaiting her response. His voice carried a hint of concern as he repeated her name, accompanied by a raised brow. "Duchess Beatrice, is something amiss?"
Duchess Beatrice, adorned with a warm smile, greeted him in return. "Good afternoon, my lord. I have been trying to request a meeting with you, but it seems you have been preoccupied these days."
"Please," she continued, gesturing towards one of the chairs opposite her, "have a seat and join me for some tea." Gavriel gracefully accepted her invitation, settling into the chair with his hands neatly folded, leaning forward attentively towards Duchess Beatrice.
"Yes, indeed," he replied, his voice carrying a touch of responsibility. "The coming of age ceremony is swiftly approaching, and I have been entrusted with its organization this year." As he spoke, the servant who had led him to the gazebo earlier reappeared, delicately placing their tea cups on the small table between them. Alongside it, an array of delectable biscuits and rich jam were presented, tempting their palates with their enticing aromas.
"Thank you for the delightful tea," Gavriel graciously responded to Duchess Beatrice as the servant skillfully poured the aromatic brew into the ornate teapot. Taking a sip, Gavriel felt a sense of calm wash over him, though he couldn't help but notice the curious gaze of Duchess Beatrice, her expression a mystery to unravel.
As the silence lengthened, the air grew thick with tension, making the atmosphere increasingly uncomfortable. Breaking the silence at last, Duchess Beatrice addressed Gavriel directly, her voice carrying a frosty edge, "Lord Gavriel, let us be forthright with one another. Did my daughter visit your residence last night?" Gavriel's heart skipped a beat, his hesitation evident. Sensing his unease, Duchess Beatrice pressed on, her tone calm yet laced with a subtle warning, "I am intimately acquainted with your character, Lord Gavriel."
Clearing his throat, Gavriel mustered the courage to reply candidly, "Indeed, she did pay a visit, but I must emphasize that I am no longer the same man you once knew." Taking another sip of his tea, he continued, hoping to assuage any doubts, "Despite her advances, I remained steadfast in my commitment to my future wife. I would never engage in such actions." His words were delivered calmly, devoid of anger or hostility.
Duchess Beatrice calmly observed Gavriel, her piercing eyes scrutinizing him before breaking the silence with a question. "So, you claim to love Eveloria and desire only her?" Her voice maintained a detached curiosity, devoid of any emotional inflection.
Gavriel hesitated briefly, collecting his thoughts before delivering his response. "Yes, I truly believe that a union with Eveloria would benefit both of us," he replied earnestly. His voice carried a sincerity that seemed genuine, almost convincing. However, Duchess Beatrice, being well-acquainted with deceptive tones, knew better. She recognized that Gavriel was fabricating his words.
Taking a moment to compose herself, Duchess Beatrice finally responded, her voice measured and composed. "I comprehend your position," she uttered calmly, belying the turmoil brewing within her.
Gavriel's smile stretched across his face as he rose to his feet. "Well then, I shall bid you farewell. My purpose here was to visit Eveloria, and I cannot depart without seeing her," he declared, punctuating his statement with a bow of respect towards Duchess Beatrice. With that, he gracefully exited the gazebo, leaving the Duchess to her thoughts.
As Gavriel departed, Duchess Beatrice's expression hardened, her mind formulating plans to protect her daughter and stay vigilant. "This man takes me for a fool," she pondered, her eyebrows furrowing in deep concern. Her fingers unconsciously played with the wedding ring adorning her finger. "I must keep a watchful eye on him and ensure Briana's safety," she resolved.
' That girl better not ruin my plan.'