It had been a few days since Eris had last seen Ezekiel. He hadn't reached out, nor did she have any intention of contacting him. To her, he was a coward—a man who claimed to love her yet hadn't fought for her.
"The eastern merchants are due to arrive in a week or two. The items Mother ordered will be ready by the grand ball," Eris said, her voice calm as she stood before her father, who was engrossed in reviewing a stack of documents.
"And Theon? When will he be returning home?" Count Ashcroft finally lifted his gaze, his blue eyes studying her expressionless face. He had already heard the rumors circulating about the girl and the duke.
"He'll be here in a week, Father," she replied evenly, offering a polite curtsy before turning on her heel to leave the room.
Her black heels clicked against the polished floor as she made her way back to her quarters. She could almost feel the maids' eyes on her, their whispers trailing behind like ghosts. She'd heard them all—the murmurs about her being a mere toy, an amusement cast aside when it no longer served its purpose.
Pushing open the door to her room, she froze. Rosalyn was already there, reclining on the edge of a chaise with practiced ease. She wore a flowing blue dress with a daringly low back, the faint scars on her skin visible through the fabric. Her hair was styled in a messy bun, loose strands falling artfully across her forehead—a striking contrast to Eris's tightly bound locks.
"Rosa," Eris said, her tone sharp with frost. "What do you want?" She closed the door softly behind her, crossing the room to sink onto the couch. Her posture was tense, but her face betrayed nothing.
"Just checking on my heartbroken little sister," Rosalyn replied with a mocking smile.
Eris shot her a glare. "I'm not heartbroken. Just embarrassed," she snapped, her tone clipped.
Rosalyn chuckled softly, as if Eris's defiance was an amusing game. "What did you expect? Harriet would never let a mere human marry the man who was her daughter's fiancé. The real question is, what are you going to do about it, Eri?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Eris's eyes narrowed, suspicion flashing in their golden depths.
"Oh, come now. I know you," Rosalyn said, her tone sweet but edged with darkness. "You're not the type to let something like this slide. Remember when we were ten? You threw Sienna's puppy into the fireplace just because she accused you of stealing one of Lady Harriet's necklaces."
Eris's face remained impassive, but a flicker of something cold and calculating passed through her eyes.
Rosalyn leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Why not form an alliance, hmm? Together, we could rid ourselves of this so-called family."
Eris raised an eyebrow, her gaze hardening. "How would I benefit from that? All I see is you trying to use me to snake your way into the position of Count. What's in it for me?"
Rosalyn smiled slyly. "I haven't seen that look in a while," she mused, tilting her head. "Once I'm Countess, I'll make sure you marry Ezeki—"
"No," Eris interrupted, standing abruptly. Her voice was sharp, her golden eyes blazing with restrained fury. "Ezekiel is not worth it. If you think dangling him in front of me will sway me, you're wrong. He was never a prize—just an indecisive man with no courage or backbone to fulfill his promises."
Rosalyn rose as well, smoothing the folds of her dress. "You don't have to decide now," she said with a casual shrug. "Take a day or two. Think it over. Then we'll talk again—once you've made up your mind."
With that, Rosalyn swept out of the room, leaving Eris alone with her simmering frustration. Yet, her sister's words lingered, weaving themselves into her thoughts like an insidious thread.