Dinner that night was a suffocating affair. The air crackled with an unspoken tension so thick, Suzy could practically taste it. The clinking of silverware against porcelain echoed in the vast dining hall, an indication of the uncomfortable silence between her and Ryan.
Each bite of food felt heavy in Suzy's stomach, the delicious flavors drowned out by the bitterness of their earlier argument. She stole occasional glances at Ryan across the table, but his face remained an unreadable mask. His posture was ramrod straight, his eyes fixed on his plate as if the food held a deeper meaning than sustenance.
The only sounds that dared to pierce the tense silence were the hushed whispers of the servants flitting around the room, their eyes darting nervously between the two figures at the head of the table. Even the flickering candles seemed to cast an accusatory glow, highlighting the chasm that had opened between them.
Suzy began to pick at her food, her appetite completely gone. Each bite tasted like ashes in her mouth, a reflection of the bitter taste left by Ryan's words. She took another glance at him, finding his face etched with an emotion that resembled… annoyance? Perhaps even a hint of… frustration?
The sight did little to soothe her simmering anger. "Pompous sissy," she muttered under her breath, the words a rebellion against the rigid formality of the dinner and everything it represented.
Finally, the agonizing meal came to an end. The servants cleared the table, their movements even more subdued than usual. As the last plate was removed, Ryan pushed back his chair with a sharp scrape against the floor, the sound making Suzy flinch.
"Duchess," he said, his voice cold and formal, "I require your presence in my study in thirty minutes."
Suzy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The formality of his request grated on her nerves. "What for?" she couldn't help but ask, her voice barely a whisper.
Ryan didn't grace her with a reply. Instead, he turned his gaze to Doris, who had lingered by the doorway, her face etched with worry.
"Doris," he instructed, his voice laced with an unspoken command, "please escort the Duchess to my study in half an hour."
Doris curtseyed, her eyes flitting between Suzy's defiant expression and Ryan's stony demeanor. "Of course, Your Grace," she replied, her voice barely audible.
With that, Ryan turned and strode out of the dining hall, leaving Suzy and Doris alone in the wake of his icy command. As the door slammed shut behind him, the remaining tension in the room condensed, threatening to suffocate them both. She clenched her fists, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. What did he want from her now? Another lecture on etiquette, another attempt to break her spirit?
Suzy glared at the spot where Ryan had disappeared, a surge of anger battling with a strange sense of dread. "Thirty minutes," she muttered under her breath, her voice tight with defiance. "He can't just summon me like some servant."
Doris, sensing Suzy's rising temper, placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Perhaps, milady," she whispered, her voice soothing, "it's best you go. Whatever needs to be said, it's best said… privately."
Suzy sighed, the anger slowly draining from her. She knew Doris was right. Ignoring Ryan's summons wouldn't solve anything. She had to face him, to understand what he wanted, and get it over with.
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Ryan sat down at the comfort of his study. He clutched a rolled-up parchment in his hand, his knuckles white with tension. Across the desk, Davis listened intently as Ryan issued a string of instructions.
"Make sure everything goes according to plan," Ryan said, his voice low and urgent. "No need to alert the public."
Davis inclined his head, his face grim. "Consider it done, Your Grace," he assured Ryan.
A sharp rap on the study door startled them both. Ryan turned towards the sound, his expression hardening.
"Enter," he commanded, his voice devoid of warmth.
The door creaked open, revealing Suzy, her chin held high and a determined glint in her eyes. The dress she had worn earlier was gone, replaced with a more formal gown, but it still held a touch of her signature flair.
Doris hovered by the doorway for a moment, her gaze flitting nervously between Ryan and Suzy. Sensing the tension hanging thick in the air, she offered a small smile and a hesitant curtsy.
"May I be excused, Your Grace?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Suzy, her eyes locked on Ryan, nodded curtly. "Yes, Doris. You are dismissed."
With a worried glance at Suzy, Doris curtseyed again and retreated from the room, leaving the two of them alone in the tense silence.
"Thank you, Davis," Ryan said, his voice laced with a hint of dismissal. "That will be all for now."
Davis bowed curtly. "As you wish, Your Grace." Leaving both Ryan and Suzy alone in the study.
"You wanted to see me?" Suzy asked, her voice clipped, the air between them crackling with unspoken emotions.
Ryan stood up and walked towards her. "Indeed," he replied, his voice devoid of warmth. "There's a… matter we need to discuss."
He gestured towards a chair across from his desk, but Suzy remained standing, her posture rigid. "This wouldn't happen to be about our little disagreement in the garden, would it?" she asked, a sardonic edge to her voice.
"Disagreement?" Ryan scoffed, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "It was more than that, Duchess. Your behavior is… unbecoming."
Suzy raised an eyebrow, a spark of defiance igniting in her eyes. "Unbecoming?" she repeated, her voice laced with anger. "You mean my clothes, my way of speaking? Is that what bothers you so much, Ryan? I'm tired of hearing the same thing everytime."
Ryan opened his mouth to retort, but Suzy cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Save it," she said, her voice firm. "I know exactly what you think of me."
The tension in the room grew thicker, the silence broken only by the howling wind outside. Ryan, for a moment, seemed to falter under her fiery gaze. Then, with a sigh, he walked towards his desk and picked up a document, his face hardening once more.
"This is why I called you here," he said, holding up the document. "Your… request."
She crossed the room in two long strides, snatching the document from his hand, her gaze fell upon its contents. Her stomach lurched as she recognized the official seal and the words emblazoned across the top: "Dissolution of Marriage."
A cold sweat prickled her skin as she began to read. She reached the bottom of the page, her eyes widening in disbelief. The terms of the agreement were clear – if she chose to divorce, she would leave the marriage with nothing. Financial settlement, property, means of support will be taken back from Count Edmund.
Suzy's hands trembled as she lowered the document onto the desk. She met Ryan's gaze, her voice a barely audible whisper. "What… what is this?"
Ryan leaned back in his chair, a cold smile playing on his lips. "This, Duchess," he said, his voice dripping with a mockery that sent a wave of fury crashing through her, "is the reality of your situation. You threw the word 'divorce' around like a child throwing a tantrum. But now, it's time to face the consequences of your actions."
"This is your idea of fair?" she demanded, her voice shaking with rage. "Do you know what Count Edmund, I mean my father would do to me? I don't need your money just leave my father out of this."
Ryan leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "I don't care. This is the law, Duchess," he said coldly. "A wife has no claim to her husband's fortune upon divorce."
Suzy slammed the document down on his desk, the sound echoing through the tense silence. "Law?" she scoffed. "This is about control, isn't it? You can't bear the thought of a woman like me being your equal, can you?"
Ryan's eyes flashed with anger, but he forced himself to remain calm. "This has nothing to do with equality," he countered, his voice tight. "You are the Duchess, and you will behave accordingly."
Suzy's chin trembled, but her voice held a steely resolve. "This is… coercion," she managed, her voice barely a whisper.
Ryan let out a humorless laugh. "Coercion? Duchess, you're the one who initiated this farce. You threw the word 'divorce' like it was nothing. Now, pick it back up and finish what you started. Sign it, and get out."
The anger in Suzy's eyes finally ignited. With a swift movement, she ripped the document in half, the sound echoing like a declaration of war in the tense silence of the study.
"There!" she exclaimed, flinging the torn pieces onto the desk.
Ryan's smile vanished, replaced by a cold fury. He slammed his hand down on the desk, the sound making Suzy jump. In a flash, he was around the desk, towering over her. His hands gripped the edge, trapping her between him and the imposing oak furniture.
His voice, when he spoke, was a low growl. "Listen carefully, Cassandra," he said, his breath hot against her face. "Divorce is not a game. It has consequences. If you don't want this same unpleasant conversation to come up again, then I suggest you choose your words… and actions… very carefully."
Suzy met his gaze defiantly, her chin held high despite the tremor in her legs. The air crackled with unspoken emotions, the scent of danger hanging heavy in the room.
Outside the study door, Davis and Doris exchanged worried glances. The muffled sounds of raised voices and the slam of a fist on the desk sent shivers down their spines.
"Do you think they're fighting again?" Doris whispered, her voice barely a breath.
Davis pursed his lips, his face etched with concern. "It certainly sounds like it," he muttered.
Doris, her face full of said asked " Do you think we should intervene?"
Davis shook his head, his eyes locked on the heavy oak door. "No," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "Not unless we hear something truly… alarming." They both knew this was a battle that Suzy and Ryan had to fight alone.
Inside the study, the standoff continued. Suzy, though frightened, refused to show it. She stared back at Ryan, her gaze firm despite the pounding of her heart.
But also in that moment, she knew pushing further wouldn't be productive. She would fight another day.
Ryan, sensing a temporary truce, stepped back, his face a mask of cold indifference. Suzy, shaken but not defeated, turned on her heel and marched out of the study, leaving the shredded pieces of the divorce agreement scattered on the floor like a trophy.