"Did I do the wrong thing?" she wondered, doubt creeping into her mind.
"No, definitely not." She immediately denied her own thought, shaking her head as if to physically dispel it.
"But he promised to marry me… He loves me. So what is the problem?" The question gnawed at her, shifting her thoughts in another direction.
Silvia spent the entire night sobbing, her emotions a tangled mess of confusion and heartache. By morning, her eyes were swollen, her body heavy with exhaustion. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly ahead, her expression a canvas of sorrow and frustration.
It wasn't the first time she had rejected his advances, but he had never reacted this way before. Lately, however, he seemed to be growing more desperate, more insistent.
She wanted their relationship to be official—to have something real and secure. But he kept making excuses, insisting that he wasn't well settled yet, that her family would never accept him if he made a move now.
And so, she was left waiting, caught between love and uncertainty, while he held all the power over what their future would become.
"Silvia! Silvia!"Her mother's voice rang through the room, urging her to rise for her morning duties. But today, Silvia didn't feel like doing anything. She sank deeper into her bed, pulling the blanket over her head and clenching it tightly, unwilling to show her face—it was far from presentable.The door swung open without a single knock, as if the shouting was enough of a warning that Sandra was about to enter."Silvia! Why are you still in bed?! Get up and help your sisters get ready!" Sandra scolded, though her voice carried more irritation than true anger. This was unusual behavior for Silvia, and it didn't sit well with her mother."Mother, I'm not feeling well," Silvia mumbled from under the blanket, her voice thick with exhaustion and tears.Sandra's frown deepened slightly as she stepped further into the room. Behind her, Lola shuffled in as well, rubbing her sleepy eyes, still lost in her morning daze. Without hesitation, Sandra grabbed the blanket and yanked it off, revealing Silvia's devastated face.Lola gasped. "Silvia! What happened to your eyes?"Her usual beauty was hidden behind puffiness and dark circles, a clear sign of a restless, tear-stained night.Sandra's annoyance shifted into concern. "What is wrong with you?" she asked, her voice softer now.Silvia inhaled deeply before slowly sitting up. "I'm not feeling well. I just need some sleep," she murmured, her tone void of energy.Sandra didn't look convinced, but after a brief pause, she nodded and took Lola's hand. "Let Silvia rest. She's sick." Her skepticism lingered, but she chose not to press further. She led Lola out of the room, closing the door behind her.The moment they stepped into the hallway, Sandra slowed her steps, a puzzled look settling on her face."I think Silvia is upset because Sir Jordan didn't get her any flowers this time," Lola mused softly, more to herself than anyone else.Sandra's head snapped toward her. "Huh?" she asked, caught off guard. "What did you just say?"Lola froze mid-step, her wide eyes filling with realization. Silvia had sworn them to secrecy about her relationship with Jordan. They had even sealed it with a pinky promise."Oops," Lola whispered, clamping her tiny hand over her mouth.
"Nothing," Lola blurted out, attempting to backtrack, but it was too late.
Sandra's sharp eyes caught the hesitation in her daughter's face. Without hesitation, she stepped closer, gently placing her hands on Lola's small shoulders. Crouching down to meet her at eye level, she softened her voice.
"Tell me, Lola, what did you just say?"
Her tone wasn't scolding or harsh. Instead, there was a glimmer of intrigue in her expression, as if Lola's slip of the tongue had given her an idea—something Sandra hadn't considered before.
Lola fidgeted with her fingers, uncertain of what to do. Her gaze darted around as if searching for an escape, but her mother's warm patience held her in place.
"Come on, sweetheart," Sandra coaxed gently. "I promise I won't be mad. I know how much you love your sister, Silvia. If you tell me what's wrong, I might be able to help her."
Lola bit the corner of her lip, battling the promise she had made to Silvia. But when she looked up, she saw something in her mother's eyes—genuine curiosity, maybe even concern.
She exhaled a deep breath. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she finally spoke.
And she told Sandra everything.
..........
It was finally around five in the evening when Silvia stepped out of her room. Her face looked slightly better than it had in the morning, though traces of exhaustion still lingered. The house was oddly quiet, except for a burst of giggling coming from the direction of Gazel's room.
Curious, Silvia made her way there and found the door wide open. Inside, the room buzzed with excitement as everyone admired the new dresses that had arrived for Gazel. Silvia smiled slightly and stepped in.
Lola caught sight of her first. She leaped from the bed and rushed toward Silvia, hugging her legs tightly. "I missed you so much!" she said, rubbing her face against Silvia's dress as if trying to erase the guilt of revealing her secret to their mother.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't feeling well earlier," Silvia murmured, rubbing her forehead.
Lola clung to her arm, showering her with excessive affection, making it painfully obvious she felt guilty for spilling Silvia's secret.
Bisma, the one with soft curls and warm hazel eyes, waved Silvia over. "Come see these dresses! Mother picked them out for Gazel to wear at the ball. Aren't they gorgeous?"
"Oh, really?" Silvia forced a cheerful tone as she stepped closer, reaching out to feel the luxurious fabric.
"Gazel will look so stunning. I'm almost jealous," she added with a small smile.
But Gazel didn't seem pleased by Silvia's presence. She said nothing, but the distaste in her expression spoke volumes.
She then glanced up at the dresses spread across the bed. "These are beautiful."
Her gaze shifted to Gazel. "When are you leaving? When's the ball?"
A sudden silence filled the room. The air grew thick with an unspoken tension as everyone exchanged awkward glances.
Esha, barely looking up from her book, was the one to answer. "Two days from now. Mother got you a dress too—you'll be attending the ball."
"Me?" Silvia's brows knitted together. "Why? I thought only Gazel was going."
She had already set her heart on marrying Jordan, so extravagant events like these felt pointless. But she hadn't shared that decision with her parents, which meant, technically, she still had to go.
Gazel scoffed. "Don't you want to get married?"
Silvia turned to her, only to find a sharp, disdainful look in Gazel's eyes.
"I—"
Before Silvia could respond, Sandra strode into the room, cutting off the conversation. "Girls! Stop wasting time and clean up this mess. We have preparations to make."
Her gaze landed on Silvia. "You're finally up? Is your fever gone?"
Silvia lowered her head. "Yes, Mother."
Sandra gave a short nod. "Good. I asked the maid to send your dress to your room. Be prepared—you'll be going to the ball with Gazel. Your father's orders."
Her tone was different from before. Unlike last time, when she seemed reluctant to let Silvia attend, she now appeared more than willing to send her away.