In a lavish vacation mansion in Odelle, which gave perfect views of the pier and the Marquess' estate, a lady was sitting elegantly straight in a chair, holding a porcelain teacup.
Sunlight filtered through the fancy lace curtains, basking her chestnut waves. Her hair cascaded down her back in loose ripples, each strand like smooth silk. Her eyes, with the color of blue emeralds, glistened like jewels under the sun's glow.
A soft clink came when she placed her teacup down on the saucer, her movements ever so elegant.
When she had sipped her porcelain cup empty, a helping maid promptly poured to fill it back up with tea of the lady's temperature of preference. The room was as quiet as a mouse, except for the delicate clothes rustles and clink of teacup sounds.
While the lady savored the soothing temperature of her tea, her butler entered the room after three knocks on her door to make known his appearance, bringing a silver tray in his hand.
"Esteemed Lady Clarissa, you have a letter," the butler announced before approaching the lady. He showed the tray in his hands lay a sealed envelope, its green wax seal marked with no emblem.
With grace, Lady Clarissa's hand reached out to accept the letter, so much anticipation within her. Her eyes dilated practically of interest; her curiosity was piqued. She leaned forward, holding the letter in her fingers, and wondered what the update inside the letter could be this time.
"Give me a little privacy. I want to be alone," she uttered the command, lips curled into a gentle smile. Her commanding voice blended sounds of innocence and sweetness in one's ears.
The maids, whose presences were concealed standing in the corner of her room, started to leave; the butler also withdrew, leaving her to her own devices.
Lady Clarissa used a butter knife to break the wax seal deftly. Carefully, her fingers took the parchment out and unfolded it. Her eyes fell open its contents, and she scanned the messy, almost illegible handwriting of the letter.
She recognized the source from whom it came from. The hasty handwriting was by the maid Lady Clarissa had taken under her wing, whom she educated to read and write. This maid had also managed to infiltrate the Wolfram residence.
She had appointed this maid to keep a close watch on Marquess Nicolaus Wolfram, the man of considerable great power in Odelle City, who, despite his origins and sometimes arrogant attitude, held influence in the noble society.
Lady Clarissa's eyes narrowed as they moved down the letter, and her expression gradually shifted from intrigue to stoic: Leticia detailed recent events surrounding the Marquess.
She absorbed the tidbits of information, which hinted at something that would ruin her morning. It seemed the relationship between the Marquess and his wife was more to her assumption as a mere marriage arrangement.
Lady Clarissa almost crumpled the paper in her hand as a storm of conflicting emotions churned within her. A furrowed brow now marred her serene experience.
However, along the lines of Leticia's letter, Lady Clarissa discovered more that dug her interest deeper.
Leticia mentioned that they were staying at the inn from the small village just beyond the border of the Odelle. She went on to reveal a detail: she had witnessed the Marchioness and the new knight of the Marquess engaged in a conversation, in private.
A sly smile traced at the edges of Lady Clarissa's lips. To Leticia, it appeared that their interaction that night alone was more than what met the eye.
Like there was much more to their exchange than just the usual formalities. Why else would a man and a woman decide to meet discretely, particularly at night when everyone else was dozing?
Lady Clarissa's mind whirred with this information to orchestrate her next moves as she put the letter down on the table. She needed to learn more about this knight and the Marquess' wife who had stepped into Lady Clarissa's rightful position.
'It should have been me.'
Her silk gown rustled softly as she rose from her seat and glided across the room. Standing in front of the mirror, the reflection showed a woman with an innocent face with the undeniable seductive allure of a figure. Her assets were a bit concealed to put into her innocent character, yet impossible to ignore.
Lady Clarissa could have accepted the crown prince's marriage proposal and acquired great power and influence in the kingdom, but she rejected it.
Yet, it was not power and influence alone that captured her desires; it was something more elusive, something she had glimpsed in the Marquess of Odelle, the wealthiest man in the kingdom.
Lady Clarissa's eyes a dark and intense stare as she recalled her coming-of-age ceremony, an event attended by nobles from far and wide, being the youngest daughter of a prince.
The Marquess had been her guest, and his presence caught her full attention when he stepped into the grand hall, with an exotic beauty enough to glue everyone's eyes in the ceremony.
Lady Clarissa's breathing grew shallow and quick, consumed by her thoughts as she mentally relived every detail.
Handsome would be an understatement; the Marquess was a vision of masculine perfection. His strong jawline framed a face that seemed sculpted by the spirits themselves.
His ever-so-magnetic golden eyes had sent shivers down her spine when she locked on them in a mere minute across the crowd.
And oh, she could not help but imagine what it would feel like to be held between his arms.
That single encounter buried a seed deep within Lady Clarissa's heart. She had started to observe him from afar, scrutinizing his every move with Leticia's updates. Her yearning to be the one who basked in his affections intensified with each passing day.
But fate had played a cruel hand.
Now, at this moment, she knew she needed to prepare to meet the person who had become an obstacle to becoming the Marquess' wife.
…
The day had been long and tiresome, with the group making their way to Odelle City without a break. It had been an exhausting trip on the carriage for Mikael. His bottoms were starting to be sore from the hours of sitting, and he wanted to stretch out his legs so badly.
'And my back…'
Mikael thought, could not help but recall the previous night. He had a faint pink blush on his ears despite the discomfort furrow showed on his face.
As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, they finally reached the outskirts of Odelle City. Mikael leaned forward, peering out the carriage window, his eyes widening in awe.
'Woah! So, this is the city... larger than the capital.'
Their road seemed to wind downward and hugged the edge of a cliffside path, offering them a spectacular view of the sprawling city below.
The city's lights twinkled like an extensive sea of stars, mimicking the glistening constellations overhead, creating a reflection of the evening sky.
Near the city's waters was a large port, with multiple piers lined with ships and boats that now rested peacefully, devoid of activity. The sea, too, lay still, its waves rippling placid.
Mikael could not resist taking a deep breath, savoring the salty scent of the sea in his lungs, which wafted through the carriage window and blew on his face softly.
'...It's my first time seeing... and smelling the sea.'
As they descended further into the city, the entrance came into view, marked by great archways and gates, welcoming them to the metropolis.