The grand dining hall was draped in elegance, with crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow across the polished surfaces and finely decorated tables. But despite the inviting ambience, tension hung thick in the air. Elizabeth sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap as her family's hushed whispers echoed around her. Across the table, Countess Amelia sat beside Elizabeth's father, her piercing gaze as sharp as ever, while her daughter, Helena, had just arrived.
"Ah, Helena, my dear!" the countess greeted, a rare softness gracing her otherwise stern face as she looked upon her eldest daughter. Helena, poised and graceful, returned her mother's smile, the warmth in her gaze fading quickly as she glanced at Elizabeth.
"Mother. Father," Helena said, her voice polite yet detached. She barely spared a glance at Elizabeth, her mouth tightening in a slight sneer. It was painfully obvious she was choosing to ignore her presence altogether.
Elizabeth felt a flicker of sadness at her sister's blatant disregard, but she remained silent, keeping her gaze trained on her plate. She'd learned long ago that attempting to bridge the gap between herself and Helena was futile. Her sister's contempt was deep-rooted, unyielding as the walls surrounding their family home.
The meal proceeded, course after lavish course laid out before them. Silver platters gleamed with rich dishes that should have delighted the palate—succulent meats, perfectly roasted vegetables, delicate pastries—but Elizabeth found she couldn't taste any of it. Each bite seemed dull and flavorless, overwhelmed by the palpable hostility radiating from across the table.
"Oh, Helena," the countess began, her voice laced with pride. "You must tell us about your recent accomplishments. I heard the duchess herself praised your work with the orphanage. Such a noble cause."
Helena preened under her mother's praise, a self-satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Well, I believe one must always give back to the less fortunate," she said with a meaningful glance in Elizabeth's direction. "Not everyone has the privilege of being born into a respectable position, after all."
Elizabeth's fingers tightened around her fork. She knew Helena's remark was aimed at her, a subtle jab at her own origins within the Osborne family—a product of her father's indiscretion, a constant reminder of what Helena deemed a blemish on their lineage.
"Quite true," Countess Amelia agreed, her eyes narrowing on Elizabeth. "Some in this world must work harder to prove themselves. Wouldn't you agree, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth swallowed hard, keeping her tone measured. "Yes, Countess. Hard work is essential."
Amelia's lips curled into a mocking smile. "Indeed. It must be difficult, managing the… responsibilities of your station. I can only imagine the pressure."
Elizabeth nodded, forcing a polite smile. "I'm grateful for the opportunities I have been given, Countess. I strive to fulfill them with the utmost dedication."
Helena let out a soft, mirthless laugh. "Dedication? Is that what you call it? Well, I suppose it's admirable that you're trying. Though, from what I hear, it can be quite challenging for someone… inexperienced to meet the expectations of a role as significant as yours."
Elizabeth felt her cheeks flush, but she held her composure. "I believe that experience comes with time. And I am committed to learning and growing in my role."
The countess exchanged a glance with Helena, amusement dancing in their eyes. "How charming," Amelia said. "Though I do wonder how long the emperor's patience might last. After all, the empire needs someone who can truly support him."
Elizabeth's heart tightened at the implication. She kept her gaze on her plate, willing herself not to react.
After what felt like an eternity, the meal finally concluded. Servants began clearing away the dishes, and Elizabeth rose from her seat, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere. But as she moved to leave, the countess's voice stopped her.
"Leaving so soon, Elizabeth?" Amelia asked, a mocking smile in place. "One would think you'd enjoy spending time with your family before returning to your… duties."
Elizabeth turned back, forcing a polite nod. "I appreciate the family gathering, Countess. But I must prepare for my return to the palace tomorrow."
Helena chuckled, folding her hands elegantly in her lap. "Oh, of course. Such a dutiful consort. Always eager to serve," she said, the mockery thinly veiled in her tone.
Elizabeth managed a faint smile, suppressing the bitter words that threatened to rise. She could see from the satisfied glint in Helena's eyes that she was trying to provoke her, to elicit a reaction. But Elizabeth wouldn't give her the satisfaction.
"Yes," she said simply, inclining her head. "Duty is of utmost importance."
Amelia leaned back in her chair, her gaze scrutinizing Elizabeth once more. "Good. Remember, Elizabeth, the Osborne name is attached to you now. Any misstep, any failure… it reflects on all of us."
Elizabeth met her gaze evenly, though a chill ran down her spine. "I understand, Countess. I will do everything in my power to bring honor to our family."
With a curt nod, she turned on her heel, excusing herself from the hall. She felt the weight of Amelia and Helena's eyes on her back as she walked away, their disdain palpable even without words.
As she reached her chamber, Elizabeth let out a shaky breath, her composure slipping in the solitude of her room. She felt a pang of sadness at the coldness of her family, the endless expectations and judgments that seemed to surround her every move.
But she reminded herself of her duties. Tomorrow, she would return to the palace, where the weight of her role awaited her once again. She had no choice but to bear it with grace and dignity.
The next morning, as she climbed into the carriage, the familiar walls of her family home loomed behind her, a place she knew she would never truly belong. She settled into her seat, letting the gentle sway of the carriage lull her into a momentary peace.
But as the carriage began to move, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered. Memories of the previous night replayed in her mind, the countess's cold gaze, Helena's mocking laughter, her father's silence. And, amidst it all, she found herself thinking of Countess Amelia again, the woman whose hostility had tainted so much of her life.
Elizabeth sighed, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. The festival she had snuck out to just days before felt like a distant memory, a brief escape from the harsh reality that awaited her.