Months had passed. Her closest friends, the ones she’d confided in, had told her it would get easier with time, but it hadn’t. Her heart still hurt just as much today as it had yesterday, and the day before yesterday, and so on for the many months it had been since Duke Mercado had broken her engagement to his son, Sean.
Sean. Her love.
He had loved her, too. Did he still? She hadn’t been the only one crying when their engagement was called off, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t moved on to someone else by now.
The Mercado family had insisted it was due to other reasons, but Elaine knew deep in her heart that it was because of Florence and all the rumors and scandals surrounding her. Florence’s awful debut had been the final straw—the last piece the Mercado family needed to sever ties with the problematic LeVelle family.
After all, Sean had only offered his proposal to Elaine out of his affection for her. This was not a strategic alliance on his—or her—part, though it might have been had circumstances been different. Everyone knew that the LaVelle and Mercado families held two of the three dukedoms in the Dorandian kingdom. Combining families, historically, had always caused a bit of an uproar in the courts due to the concerns that the duchies might be uniting to overthrow the kingdom.
But now that the LaVelle family was out of favor with the King, it was only natural that the Mercado duchy would cut its losses with Elaine and attempt to rise and take its place. Every eligible debutante (and their mother) would be after Sean now that he was back on the market, and Elaine was losing hope that she would ever be able to get Sean back.
He’d have to go against his father. As the only son and heir, there would be dire consequences for not heeding the wishes of Duke Mercado.
“Elaine?”
Elaine’s eyes snapped up to see her younger sister in the doorway. With the sunlight illuminating her in the simple, cream-colored dress she wore, Florence looked ethereal. Other. Especially with her odd hair loose down her back.
“Come in, Florence,” Elaine told her, her voice coming out colder than she meant it to. Of course, in her head, she knew none of this was truly Florence’s fault, but it hadn’t been difficult for her heart to blame her. Especially when so many years had gone by when Florence had been unable to defend herself—she had become the family scapegoat for all their troubles as rumors about a curse in the LaVelle duchy grew and morphed over the years. “Tea?”
“Yes, please.” Florence sat on the settee opposite her, still illuminated by the afternoon sun streaming in from the windows behind Elaine. Perhaps it was Saint Dora at work, reminding Elaine of the trials Florence had undergone during her slumber, but Florence seemed to almost sparkle in the light. As if Florence herself had been graced by the heavens.
“I brought you here because I wanted to clear up any possible misunderstandings between us,” Elaine began. She poured out their tea. “Cream? Sugar? Ahem. I know I’ve been…distant. I wanted to let you know that it’s not your fault that I've kept to myself. I’ve just been…terribly sad. Heartbroken. I didn’t want to be around anyone. You see, after your debut—”
Florence winced.
“—my engagement to Lord Sean Mercado was broken off. I loved him so very much. No, not loved—I love him still.”
Elaine clutched her chest. Perhaps she hadn’t been ready to face Florence after all.
“I’m so sorry, Elaine,” Florence said softly. “I had no idea.”
Elaine wiped a few tears that had escaped. “It’s not your fault, Florence. Duke Mercado was looking for an excuse to break our engagement. I think he has his sights set higher for Sean…I suspect Princess Aurelia.”
Elaine’s beautiful, classically-featured face crumpled, and her hazel eyes filled with tears.
“How could he pass up a love match with the daughter of Duke LaVelle?” Florence exclaimed. “Does he care nothing for his son’s happiness?”
Elaine shrugged. “I only wanted to tell you what happened, so you would know why I’ve kept to myself as of late. I never meant to hide away from you. I always thought I would be there for you when you woke up, that I would help you. But...you never woke up, and when you finally did, I couldn’t even get out of bed some days. I couldn’t face myself in the mirror. How can I be strong for you when I’m too weak to begin with? How can I compete with a—with a princess?”
Florence set her tea on the table and moved to her sister’s side. At first, Elaine was hesitant to embrace Florence, but after a moment, she sank into her arms, sobbing as only someone with a broken heart can do.
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If silent tears flowed down Florence’s face while the sisters embraced, nobody was the wiser.
?????
~Florence
There’s too much. It’s all too much. After tea with Elaine, I take out the other journal I keep hidden, nestled next to the one I share with Sir Thorne. I started it around the time Madam Rosanna entered my life and am glad I stuck with the habit—there are far too many pieces moving in my life right now, like some giant alchemical machine, and each piece must be meticulously maintained lest I lose control of the whole thing.
And now, another cog has been added to the machine. Elaine.
I review my notes, glancing over everything I’ve written down so far in the slim volume—my professor’s names from all my classes and which students might prove to be useful someday, notes about my curse and what I remember from the hellscape, my interactions with each of my family members, things that have changed in the world since I’ve woken up (including the introduction of “alchemical machines,” which I learned of in one of my classes), all the rumors I’ve heard about myself, my training regime with Sir Thorne and details about the outfit Tali made for me, tea parties and other engagements I’ve attended and the various…outcomes, each spell I’ve mastered and other ways my mage powers are progressing, and so much more.
I know I’m not getting enough sleep. Every day, when Mary wakes me up in the morning, my body craves more slumber. But there is no other choice except to move forward. To help, I need to do my best to keep everything collected and organized—outside of my brain, safe in my journal. If I tried to keep track of everything inside of my head, I have no doubt I’d go mad. It’s far too much for someone like me.
I write some notes about Elaine, concern furrowing my brow, then put it away for now. I check the notebook I share with Sir Thorne and find he’s already written a reply!
Dear Ren,
I’ve given your dilemma quite a bit of thought and have come to the following potential solutions based on your situation.
One—you could write a book. I know you mentioned not having much time, but there’s a spell you can use to make a pen write while you speak, which might make the task faster. I believe you have an experience worth sharing—an experience people would pay good money to read.
Two—as I mentioned before, you could start a business. Since you are not yet twenty years of age, you would need a partner, a position I would be willing to fill for a share in the business. Did you know late-night cafes are rising in popularity? It might be something worth pursuing while interest is high. Let me know if you’d like to work together. Hiring a good manager would—should—ensure this endeavor doesn't take much of your time once it's up and running.
Three—sales and services. This could go hand-in-hand with a business, or it could be separate. As a mage, you have valuable skills that regular folk would pay a tidy sum to use. You are capable of creating mana crystals, charmed jewelry, spell scrolls and the like, all of which sell for good coin. Or, you could hire yourself out to reshape a farmer’s land, work as a healer, or even perform magic shows. All of these would require some training, but I have no doubt you’d be able to do any or all of them, if you so choose.
If I think of anything else, I will certainly write it down for you. Otherwise, I await your reply.
Your servant,
-T
Goodness! I haven’t thought of any of these possibilities. Writing a book? About my experience in the hellscape? While I agree people would probably be interested in reading about it, if only to sate their morbid curiosity, I don’t think I’m ready to share that story with anybody.
Should Thorne and I open a late-night cafe with the ?60,000 Ducat I’ll be getting from Sir Vester? Would I have to learn how to serve, what did he call it? “Cough-fee”...something like that. No, I wouldn’t have the time for that. That would be for the manager to figure out.
Despite my doubts, a shop somewhat similar to the Lavender and Honey Tea Shop on the Academy campus comes to mind. I let my imagination run wild for a few minutes, fleshing out the shop in my mind and picturing it filled with customers. A couple of waiters weave between the tables to serve the beverages and treats that were ordered at the counter. Small lamps illuminate each table, giving the cafe a warm, welcoming ambiance—a cozy haven from late-night escapades.
Why do I like this idea? Is it because Sir Thorne would be involved or because the idea itself is exciting? I don’t even know how much money a business like this would bring in, but I suppose out of the ideas he suggested, this is the one that captured my interest the most.
Dear T—
Let’s discuss the late-night cafe venture during out next session.
-Ren
In the meantime, while there are probably books in the LaVelle library I could read about the ins and outs of starting a business, it wouldn’t do to be caught reading them. I’ll need to stop by the campus library between classes tomorrow and see what they have. Even though I trust Sir Thorne to a certain degree, I don’t want to start a discussion with him about starting a business without knowing the basics.
I doubt he’d try to take advantage of me. However, "It’s always prudent to be prepared," as my Ladies' Studies professor constantly reminds us.
Florence, girl, I know you need money...but a coffee shop? You haven't even tried coffee yet, silly! ?
Who is Kitty Blush?? ??
If you have questions you'd like to ask me, please put them in the comments! Otherwise, I'm going to tell you whatever I want, muahaha!