Annalise's POV
After the embarrassing crying session with Hannah, I asked her about Iris's father, Duke Edward, and she told me he was back at Everett as expected. That was all I needed to hear to make up my mind.
"Pack our bags, Hannah. We're going to visit my father!" I declared the following day. I chose only Hannah to join me and we departed at dawn.
A wave of anxiety washed over me the moment we stepped out of the castle gates. This was the first time I'd set foot into the real world, beyond the castle walls.
As I climbed into the carriage, I couldn't help but feel a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. "Am I really ready for this?" I thought silently.
We went through a different gate from the main palace and out to the town that surrounded it.
The town streets were narrow and winding, flanked by rows of tall, timber-framed houses with overhanging upper stories.
The buildings were colorful, with pastel paints, exposed wooden beams, and red and gray tiled roofs stretching out in every direction.
The early morning light cast a warm glow on everything, and already the streets were bustling. Artisans and merchants displayed goods under small, colorful awnings, selling everything from freshly baked bread to handwoven fabrics. People wove through the crowd, haggling and chatting in groups.
Our carriage drew some attention, and a few people paused, bowing briefly in respect before resuming their conversations.
I felt my heart beat a little faster at their gazes. Once again, it hit me… this was real. I was finally seeing the world I'd only imagined from the castle windows.
I tried to calm myself, but I couldn't stop staring out the window, my eyes glued to the little houses, the vibrant stalls, and the people absorbed in their daily routines. It felt surreal, and I wondered if I looked out of place here.
After we left the town, we continued until sunset and settled at an inn just outside the capital. As I sank into the old, creaky bed, a jolt of discomfort reminded me of the luxury I'd grown accustomed to at the palace.
"How ironic," I thought, biting my lower lip. The bed I'd had in my old one-room apartment wasn't any better, and yet I'd never paid it any attention back then. The agony of simply existing had been enough to make me numb to things like that.
The next morning we continued our journey. After a few miles, rocky patches sent jolts through the carriage, making me wince.
Still, I tried to stay calm, reminding myself of my purpose. I'd made my choice, and no amount of discomfort would sway me.
As we traveled, the fields around us gave way to rolling hills blanketed in tall, wild grasses that swayed in the breeze.
We passed through rolling hills and dense forests, the peaceful scenery a stark contrast to the bustling streets at the capital.
The air here felt cooler and carried earthy scents of moss and damp wood. I found myself breathing in deeply, as if the forest itself were somehow calming my restless mind.
As the sun went down, we settled at another inn and settled there till the next day.
My body ached in ways I'd never felt before, and truthfully, I began to wonder if I'd made a mistake. But the thought of Duke Edward waiting at Everett rekindled my determination, and I refused to let doubt creep in.
After another day of travelling, we emerged from the forest. The road stretched on, the view eventually opening up to distant mountains and a winding river, reminding me of the purpose ahead.
Soon enough, at midday we were standing in front of Duke Edward's Estate, Iris's birth home. I swallowed hard as we ventured beyond the gates.
"Edward Valenhart, you better act accordingly!" I mumbled silently holding my fists to keep calm.
The grand entrance loomed ahead, an enormous arched doorway framed by marble columns and adorned with intricate carvings of the Valenhart family crest and butler waited at the entrance as he doors opened.
"Welcome, Lady Iris. It's been a long time." His voice was crisp, formal, practiced, the words polite, yet distant. He bowed with a measured respect, though something in his eyes betrayed his surprise.
I froze for a moment, not sure how to respond. In a place so cold, so grand, I felt as though I were standing on the outside looking in.
My heart skipped a beat as my mind scrambled for the right words to say.
"Ahh… yes, thank you," I finally managed, my voice feeling foreign in the pristine hall.
"I shall inform the Duke of your arrival, in the meantime the servants will help you" He continued.
The servants hovering discreetly in the shadows, watching, waited to be summoned. Their eyes flicked nervously in my direction, yet they held back their curiosity.
At the order of the butler, a few stepped forward to take my coat, and a second later, another servant offered refreshments, but the silence in the room remained oppressive. Every movement felt deliberate, the atmosphere too formal for comfort.
"I wonder how Iris grew up here" I thought silently.
Although I wasn't exactly new to the lack of warmth in a place supposed to a home but I experienced a bit of warmth once or twice in my past though it wasn't enough to undo the damage that had been done by my mother but Iris, I didn't think she did at all.
As I stepped further into the welcoming area, my heels echoed on the polished marble floor, the air thick with the scent of incense and aged wood.
My skin prickled under the weight of their gaze, as if they could see right through me… see how out of place I truly was, that I wasn't the real Iris. A nervous heat crawled out of me, damping my forehead with sweat.
Just then, a group of older, distinguished gentlemen emerged from a nearby room upstairs, making their way down the stairs, their tailored coats and soft murmurs a stark contrast to the stillness around us.
They spoke in low, conspiratorial tones, their eyes barely lifting as they glanced my way.
"Lady Iris… It's pleasant seeing your face again," one of the taller men said, his voice laced with a hint of surprise. He gave me a curt nod, his gaze lingering a fraction too long before shifting away. "What brings you here from the capital?"
I had no answer for him, not one that felt right. My eyes darted to Hannah for help, and she caught my unspoken distress. With a calm that I envied, she spoke up.
"I don't think the duchess should have any reason to come to her father's house," she said coolly, her words cutting through the tension like a knife.
The men erupted into laughter, the sound surprisingly warm but with an undercurrent of something far less friendly. The taller man, clearly the leader, smiled, though it never quite reached his eyes.
"Yes, you're right!" he said, the words dripping with something I couldn't quite place. "Very well, gentlemen, let's take our leave."
They all nodded and began moving toward the door, leaving the room with a final glance over their shoulders, as if still trying to assess me even as they made their exit.
I stood there for a moment, the weight of their gaze still lingering, the silence settling back into the room.
I swallowed hard, feeling the strange, uncomfortable mix of nostalgia and alienation tug at my chest.
This was supposed to be a home but it felt more like a museum, a place where history was alive but I obviously had no part in it.
I pushed the thoughts aside as I turned to follow Hannah, my footsteps sounding louder than ever on the marble floor.
As I stood in the hall, still trying to gather myself, I heard the soft creak of footsteps approaching from the staircase.
My heart skipped, but I couldn't say I was surprised. Duke Edward, Iris's father, descended the grand staircase slowly, his polished boots clicking against the marble with an almost rhythmic precision.
The tall figure, clad in dark, tailored clothes that matched the stark severity of his expression, made his way down with the same imposing presence that had probably loomed over Iris her entire life.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stopped. His eyes locked onto me for the first time since I had entered the estate, flickering with disbelief at my appearance for a second.
There was no smile, no warmth in his gaze. Just a cold, calculating look he most likely always wore whenever their paths crossed.
I felt the familiar weight of his gaze on me, one that Iris's body recognized.
"Iris," he spoke, his voice low and calm, but laced with an underlying sharpness.
"What is it that brings you here?" His tone was like the one he had used when giving orders to servants, like I was no more than a duty to him. "Shouldn't you be preparing for your wedding?"
It was a question, yet it held no curiosity, just an acknowledgement of my presence. No emotion, no surprise.
For a brief moment, I stood there, struggling to find words. The weight of the situation settled on me like a suffocating cloak.
This was the man who had never shown an ounce of affection to Iris but instead spoilt her with luxury as if to replace it and not only that he used her as a tool to heighten his position too.
All I could feel now was an emptiness between us. I swallowed, forcing my voice to remain steady.
The anger and frustration I didn't know I had buried inside me for so long stirred beneath the surface.
I've come to speak with you, Father," I finally managed, keeping my gaze fixed on him. "About my engagement… about the future you've chosen for me."
He didn't move, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed me. The silence stretched on, thick and unyielding.
"Very well then, we'll discuss it later, you should go settle down first."
Then, without any other thing to say after that, he turned back to the direction he came, making a small gesture with his hand, as though dismissing me.