As the hours passed, the sun began to sink lower in the sky, casting the mansion in the warm light of the afternoon. In her room, Ella sat before a small mirror, combing her hair with slow, thoughtful strokes.
Her mind drifted, caught in the daydreams of a future she wasn't sure she could have. "...And after we marry, we'll have lots of kids, eat pizza, and..." The words slipped from her lips before she realized she was speaking out loud. She quickly stopped, glancing at Bella, who was quietly tidying the room.
Ella lowered her gaze to the comb in her hand, her heart heavy with doubt. But how? she thought, her fingers tightening around the wooden handle.
How can we possibly stay together? Father won't approve, and Count Cuthred... especially him. The thought of the Count made her chest tighten with anxiety. This could break everything—years of negotiations, alliances, all shattered because of my selfish desires.
She glanced out the window at the clear blue sky, the gentle breeze swaying the trees. It was the kind of day that invited carefree thoughts, but her mind was anything but. "Bella, could you fetch something for me to eat? I'm going for a quick stroll, so please wait for me here."
Bella nodded, her expression neutral. "I understand." She exited the room, leaving Ella alone with her thoughts.
Once she was sure Bella was gone, Ella slipped out of her room, cautiously looking around before making her way to the garden. Her footsteps quickened as she approached the hidden spot, a wall covered in flowers and vines that shielded her from the prying eyes of the mansion.
"You came," she whispered as she reached Rafael, who was waiting for her.
"Why wouldn't I?" he replied, pulling her into a tender kiss. They had agreed to meet here, where they could be alone, away from the pressures and expectations that weighed on both of them.
"How are you, my love?" Rafael asked, holding her close.
Ella giggled softly, though there was a tremor in her voice. "Hihi, stop that."
"What? You can't deny you liked it," he teased, but Ella's smile faded as she looked up at him, her expression clouded with apprehension.
"Robert... I don't know if we should really be doing this," she said, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Rafael's brow furrowed in concern. "What? Why?"
"It's just... You see, my father has worked so hard to get where he is. He's sacrificed so much to build all this, and this marriage between me and Count Cuthred's son—it's the key to everything he's been working towards. Our houses will be stronger than ever. I can't just destroy my father's work..."
"Ella," Rafael began, his tone soft but firm, "he wants this marriage because he sees it as the best opportunity for the future, right?"
Ella nodded, her eyes searching his for some kind of reassurance.
"So," Rafael continued, a smile spreading across his face, "that means I just need to show him how letting me marry you is better, more advantageous than that kid."
"How are you going to do that?" she asked, her doubt creeping back.
"Do you trust me?" he asked, holding her gaze.
"Yes," she whispered, her heart torn between love and duty. They kissed again, the weight of their uncertain future hanging over them like a shadow.
After a moment, Rafael pulled back slightly. "Ella, I need to ask you for a favor. Since I can't leave these walls, I need you to make something for me—a toothbrush."
"A toothbrush?" Ella repeated, amused despite the gravity of their conversation. "To brush your teeth?"
"Yes. Have you ever seen one?" Rafael asked, his tone serious.
"No, I didn't even know it was a thing," she admitted, her curiosity piqued.
Rafael explained how it should look and what it would be used for, and Ella listened intently. Finally, Rafael thought with a sigh of relief, the days of bad breath and filthy teeth are coming to an end.
"Oh, right! Robert, remember that book about numbers you made with those old men? Look!" She reached beneath her dress and pulled out a book. "I gave it to my brother so he could make copies, and this is the first one."
Rafael's eyes lit up as she handed it to him. Yes! Now we just need to spread this throughout the kingdom. Even if most people aren't literate, there must be some who will read this and understand its value.
After their secret meeting, Ella returned to her room, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Bella was waiting for her with a tray of food set on the table.
"Milady, where have you been?" Bella asked, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp.
"Oh, haha, I just went for a stroll, that's all," Ella replied, trying to sound casual as she avoided Bella's gaze. She wasn't really hungry, but she began eating to distract herself. "This soup is amazing, thank you, Bella."
"Oh no, it was the cook who made it. How could I take credit for it? I wouldn't lie to you, Miss Ella," Bella said, her voice calm and measured.
Ella felt her face flush with guilt. Bella's next words came softly but struck like a hammer. "I believe Miss Ella wouldn't lie to me either, right?"
Ella choked on her soup, coughing violently. "Of course I—" cough "—wouldn't lie. Why are you—" cough "—saying that?" She struggled to speak between coughs, her heart pounding.
Bella's eyes narrowed, her voice low and steady. "Are you cheating on Icarus, the man you're bound to marry in a month?"
Ella froze, her heart sinking as the weight of her secrets pressed down on her.