Beatrice's POV
I stared at his face. All the questions I had, all the confusion and worry inside me none of it could leave my lips. Maybe it was fear. No… I knew it was fear. My hands trembled slightly, and my heart raced.
For a moment, my mind went blank. All I could feel was fear not because he had done anything to me, though his stern face and heavy presence were overwhelming. I feared making a mistake and paying for it later.
Before I could gather my thoughts, his voice cut through them.
"Sit or stand. Your choice."
He said it with a face that revealed nothing no hint of what he thought. Then he simply turned and left. No farewell. No bow. Not even a polite gesture.
I should have felt relieved. Instead, his sudden departure felt like a silent dismissal… perhaps even scorn. Whatever it was, I knew one thing: I did not like it.
I stayed in the balcony doorway, watching him return to the crowd. I saw the way some ladies looked at him even after the engagement had just been announced. It was clear that if they had the slightest chance with him, they would take it.
And I could not blame them. As much as his behaviour unsettled me, I could not deny the truth: he was breathtaking. I know I am pretty, but him… his tall frame, godlike features, and midnight-black hair made him look like something between a deity and a devil. Any woman would feel small beside him.
I waited a little longer, making sure I could leave the balcony without raising suspicion. Being alone and unchaperoned with a man, even my soon-to-be husband would still be enough to start a fresh rumor. One rumor was already more than enough.
When I finally stepped back into the hall, I moved carefully through the crowd, chatting and mingling as much as I could. I prayed for the night to end. I had been released from the cell only a few hours earlier, and my body screamed for rest. But I could not leave unless I was dismissed or the ball was over.
Soon, it was time for the first waltz of the evening. The Duke and I were supposed to be the opening couple. When the music began, everyone stepped aside, leaving me standing alone in the center of the hall. I was nervous, but prepared.
At least, I tried to be.
As I stood waiting, the hall once filled only with music slowly grew thick with whispers. Quiet at first, but then louder. My heart pounded. I did not need anyone to tell me what had happened.
I had been stood up.
The whispers stung like needles. The humiliation burned. I felt like a circus animal, my discomfort serving as entertainment. This pain felt worse than his silent dismissal earlier.
But I kept standing, chin raised, because the rules demanded it. I had to endure the entire first waltz alone. My chest tightened. My eyes burned. Tears threatened, but I held them back from even appearing in my eyes. If even one slipped free, I would not be able to stop the rest.
Normally, my father should step in and ask me to dance. But I knew the Count would rather walk through fire than do that.
Every breath felt heavy.
At last after what felt like eternity the first dance ended. Then the hall opened for everyone to dance, and by the rules, I joined them. I kept the same smile glued on my face.
While dancing, I searched the room for him.
But the Duke was nowhere to be found.
Even as the ball continued and finally ended, I could feel eyes watching me. I just wanted to be in my room, where I could finally breathe and cry in peace.
But before I reached my door, whispers from two maids drifted to my ears.
"I heard Duke Edward left right before the dance. Even after he was told, he still walked out," one said.
"What could be more important than etiquette? I thought nobles cared more for that than anything else," the other whispered.
Their voices faded as they walked away.
I entered my room, lay on my bed, and stared at the ceiling. The tears I had held back refused to fall now. Somehow, this felt even worse than crying. It felt like a weight pressing against my chest.
I stood, walked to my dresser, and pulled out the pocket knife I had hidden there since childhood. I stared at it, wondering if ending it all would be easier.
Just one thrust, and everything would be over.
But like so many times before, I could not do it.
I told myself it was because I needed to pay for my sins.
The sin of killing my brother, the Count's son.
Sometimes I pretend that if I endure enough, if I suffer enough, maybe what I did will become forgivable.
But deep down, I know that is not the real reason I cannot end it.
The truth is simple and cruel:
I am not only a murderer.
Not only a commoner raised by nobles.
I am also a coward.
"Beatrice? Are you in there?" Elena's voice broke through my thoughts.