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Chapter 17: Broken Delusions of Grandeur

Sophya gazed around the spacious room with cream-white walls painted with wildflowers, robins, bluebirds, and cardinals. A four-poster bed stood beside the large bay window. The bed frame was draped in soft sky-blue curtains tied back to reveal the frilled lilac-blue quilt and matching pillows. Opposite the bed was a large vanity desk laid out with three brushes, powders, and five large, open jewelry boxes that drew her over for a closer inspection.

“These all belonged to Lady Helena Gilwren,” explained the head maid who had escorted Sophya into the room she would be using during the Royal Hunt. “The Viscount asked that we lay them out since they now belong to you per your mother’s will.”

“Her will?” Sophya echoed in surprise.

“I believe she wrote it when you were eleven years old.” The head maid moved over to a large wardrobe to reveal nearly twenty dresses. “And these are a gift from the Viscount. There is one for every birthday he missed while you were growing up. They were designed recently with your mother’s jewelry in mind. These four are suitable for riding should you wish to partake in the hunt. The rest may be used at your discretion.”

“I see,” Sophya murmured breathlessly before her attention returned to the jewelry. Each of the five boxes contained at least two sets that ranged in size and color but were all stunningly beautiful. A flurry of emotions pressed against her chest at the thought of Helena wearing these gemstones, sitting at this desk while a maid brushed her beautiful ash-blonde hair, probably happier than she had ever been after her marriage.

Sophya frowned and pulled her hand back from a large egg-sized emerald with a half-hearted laugh. ‘What sort of nonsense am I thinking now?’

A sharp knock on the open bedroom door preceded the arrival of her fiancé, Lord Asher Winifred, followed by his two cousins, Lord Rufous and Lady Valarie Hearish.

“There you are, Darling!” Asher murmured as he moved quickly to her side and wrapped his arms around Sophya’s waist affectionately. “We were wondering where you had run off to.”

“The Viscount asked that I bring the Lady here as these rooms will be hers during the Royal Hunt,” the head maid explained with a polite curtsey. “This is your room key, Lady Sophya. The Viscount requests that you keep the room locked as there will be many guests and servants coming in and out of the Manor this week. Then if you will excuse me, my Lady, I have other tasks to attend to. The bell rope by the door is for ringing one of the lower maids should you require anything.”

Sophya quickly drew herself up and nodded politely to the servant, trying to appear confident before Asher and his cousins.

“Wow, this place is so dated—but rich!” Valarie declared enviously as she moved to the bed and promptly plopped down on the side. “Oh! Oh, this is so much more comfortable than those crummy cots in the tents we brought. Can I stay here, Sophya? You don’t mind, do you? The bed is more than big enough for the both of us!”

“Valarie,” Asher replied in a cautioning tone.

“What? It’s not like the two of you will be using it,” Valarie shot back smugly, then tugged one of the pillows over to prop it beneath her arm and head.

Sophya flushed beneath the vulgar girl’s comment. Asher quietly pulled his arm away from her waist and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Mind your tongue, or you’ll never get married, Valarie,” Rufous chided as he moved closer to the bed. “And get up before you wrinkle your dress.”

Valarie scowled as her brother took both of her arms and quickly pulled the girl back onto her feet. Rufous promptly spun around with a mischievous smile and dropped back onto the bed behind her with his arms and legs splayed. “Ah, yes. This is comfortable.”

“You brute!” Valarie snapped before smacking his inner thigh with her fan.

“Oww, stop that!” Rufous flinched and rolled away from another blow with a wounded look. “You better behave yourself if you want my help introducing you to any eligible bachelors!”

“Both of you behave,” Asher growled as he moved past them to the bedroom window, which overlooked the large circle drive in front of Gilwren Manor. “This is no place for such childish antics.”

“Yes, cousin,” Valarie replied demurely before threatening Rufous silently with her fan. Her brother smacked the weapon away, rolled to his feet, and then moved off to study a large canvas painting hanging above the dresser.

Sophya watched the cousins nervously. She had only met them on one or two occasions when they visited the Winslet Manor before. Their family home was located in the countryside, about a week's ride from the capital. They were the offspring of Baroness Florence's older sister, who had failed to secure a husband with a title. Whether from resentment or necessity, responsibility for finding the cousins a suitable marriage had been foisted off on Lady Florence, who had sent them along after Sophya was all but forced to invite Asher to join her at Gilwren.

'I would have done so even without her prodding, though I wish she had at least asked before sending the cousins with him.'

Valarie’s lapis-blue eyes quickly spotted the jewelry boxes still open on the vanity desk. “Oh—my! These are—lovely.”

“They belonged to my mother,” Sophya explained hesitantly as the girl joined her beside the vanity desk. “And now they belong to me.”

“All of them?” Valarie’s voice pitched slightly in delight as she lifted a dangling ruby earring from its velvet drawer and held it against her ear. “Oh, these would go lovely with the ball gown I brought.”

“Yes, they are—” Sophya cut off abruptly and stood open-mouthed as Valarie removed her simple pearl earrings and slid the ruby earring into place.

“My, my. Your mother wasn’t the daughter of a Viscount for nothing.”

‘Why are you touching things that don’t belong to you? What kind of ignorant person tries on someone else’s jewelry without permission?’ Sophya bit her tongue as she held back her anger and turned toward her fiancé. But Asher appeared distracted by something outside the window and stood with his back to her. ‘They are my guests and Asher’s family. I must be patient. A lady should never raise her voice.’

Sophya’s grip on her taffeta blue umbrella tightened as Valarie finished attaching the second earring and then reached into the jewelry box for the matching ruby necklace. “Lady Valarie! Just what do you think you’re doing!”

“Oh my goodness!” Valarie spun around, still clutching the necklace which she pressed against her bodice. “Why did you shout, Sophya? You nearly gave me a fright!”

“I’m sorry,” Sophya replied quickly. “But would you please put those back? These were my mother’s, and they are very sentimental to me.”

“Is that why you’re so upset?” Valarie countered with a pout as she shrugged and carelessly dropped the necklace back into its drawer. “I was only trying them on. Goodness, I didn’t know you’d be this stingy with family.”

Sophya flinched and felt her anger crumble beneath the weight of uncertainty as her fiancé moved closer with a questioning look.

“Forgive my cousin, Sophya,” Asher murmured soothingly as he wrapped his arm around her waist again. “Valarie, you know better than to touch other people’s property without asking permission.”

Valarie made a show of rolling her eyes, then crossed her arms with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, why are you criticizing me? My aunt purchased everything your fiancé is wearing right now. How can Sophya be so greedy when it comes to other people’s charity yet refuse to share a few pieces of jewelry?”

‘Is it my fault I had nothing suitable to wear after Lord Percy sold all my old dresses, shoes, and jewelry to pay back some of Father’s debts? And Lady Florence wouldn’t have bought me a single shred of clothing if the Viscount hadn’t invited me to begin with.’

“Valarie,” Asher said with a note of disapproval. “Do remember that the only reason you were allowed to attend such an important event is because of Lady Sophya’s generosity.”

The corner of Sophya’s lips twitched in approval as Valarie cowed beneath her cousin’s reprimand. It was certainly true that none of them would be able to attend without her. Sophya herself had been surprised to receive an invitation from her grandfather and still remembered the look of dumbstruck wonder on Lady Florence's face when she handed her future mother-in-law Viscount Gilwren's letter. Generally, only the Viscounts and nobles of higher-ranked families were invited to join the Royal Hunt with his Majesty. Exceptions could be made, but only with approval from the host.

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‘If I had known the Viscount would have prepared so many dresses for me, I wouldn’t have bothered Lady Florence for a new wardrobe,’ Sophya thought with rising satisfaction. ‘Everything here is of much higher quality! And I doubt Lady Florence has any jewelry that could compete with such beautiful family heirlooms.’

A tremor of guilt pricked against Sophya’s conscience as she looked over the sparkling jewelry. ‘How many times did Mother go to the Viscount asking for financial help only to return in tears? Why would she leave all her jewelry behind? And why is the Viscount suddenly being so generous to me after years of living as if he had no children or grandchildren?’

The memory of her mother’s lifeless eyes and pale face, streaked with ash and mud from the burned field, flickered behind Sophya’s eyes before she rubbed them tiredly.

“Why don’t we go outside for a bit of fresh air,” Asher suggested as he took Sophya’s hand and draped it around his arm. “His Majesty should be arriving any minute now.”

“Oh yes!” Valarie agreed brightly, then swatted away Rufous's hand as he flicked the ruby earrings in her ears. “I can’t believe I get to see the Crown Prince and Earl Hawthorne in the flesh!”

Sophya winced at the name of her family’s tormentor. ‘Why didn’t I realize that he would be here? Augh.’

“Don’t expect too much,” Asher cautioned as he turned Sophya towards the door.

“Why not?” Valarie demanded.

“Because Lord Percy is an Earl and a Hawthorne no less,” Rufous replied sarcastically. “The likes of us are barely considered nobles in his eyes.”

“Hmph!” Valarie flicked her golden-brown hair over her shoulder with a confident smirk. “If a half-blood can turn the Earl’s head, then I stand as good a chance as any. Besides, now that Lady Evelynn is tied off with the Prime Minister’s son, every eligible bachelorette will be flocking to snatch up the position of Countess of Hawthorne.”

“And what would your fiancé say if he heard you speaking like this?” Asher replied with slight disapproval.

“Why, that he should have bought me a bigger ring,” Valarie retorted as she spun the small diamond band on her finger.

‘At least you have a ring.’ Sophya rubbed her bare fingers anxiously and frowned as her gaze returned to the girl’s ears. They were all standing in the hallway now, and Valarie was still wearing the ruby earrings.

Asher appeared to take note of Sophya’s sudden stiffness and followed her gaze. He quickly sighed, then stepped towards his cousin with his hand extended.

“What?” Valarie blinked at him in surprise.

“Those are Sophya’s earrings,” Asher replied dryly.

“Oh, these?” Valarie laughed as she touched the rubies. “I was hoping I could—”

“Hand them over now!”

The girl blinked in surprise at her cousin’s harsh tone and reluctantly removed the earrings one by one before placing them into his hand. Asher turned back to Sophya with an apologetic smile. “I’ll put these where they belong and fetch Valarie’s earrings.”

Sophya smiled and nodded, relieved that he had dealt with the matter so efficiently. Valarie continued to sulk, even after her pearl earrings were returned to her.

“We should probably keep the room locked as your grandfather suggested,” Asher commented as he closed the door firmly behind him.

“Oh,” Sophya quickly pulled out the room key the head maid had given her. Asher intercepted her smoothly as he pulled the key from her fingers, locked the bedroom door, and then slid the key into his jacket pocket. Sophya blinked in surprise, but before she could question him, the sound of trumpets blaring outside alerted them.

“That must mean the Crown Prince has arrived!” Asher said excitedly as he took Sophya’s arm and quickly pulled her towards the stairs. “We had better hurry if we want a decent view.”

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The summer breeze blew Sophya’s vivacious red hair across her forest-green eyes. She blinked beneath the unfiltered sunlight and hastily opened her taffeta umbrella to shield her delicate pale skin. Over the heads and shoulders of several nobles, who had gathered around the Manor steps and circular driveway, Sophya spotted her grandfather. Lord Rykard stood at the front of the greeting party, shoulder to shoulder with a young man she did not recognize.

“Can we get any closer,” Valarie whined, attempting to shield her eyes with an open fan.

“Looks like we should have come down sooner if we wanted a better spot,” Rufous grumbled and then motioned to an empty corner of the balcony, which offered both shade and a high vantage point. “Why don’t we wait over there.”

“Nonsense,” Asher replied dismissively. “Sophya is Lord Rykard’s granddaughter. She should be waiting at the front of the line to meet his Majesty.”

“Oh, but—” Sophya was cut short as Asher pulled her firmly through the lines of nobles, who parted with angry looks and mutters of disapproval. Sophya struggled to follow, her umbrella coming dangerously close to knocking off a few hats and wigs as she held it high overhead. Her arm was trembling with effort by the time they reached the small open space directly behind Viscount Gilwren.

Lord Rykard appeared to have taken note of the whispered protests and complaints from the nobles behind him. His hazel-green eyes narrowed in on Sophya and Asher for a brief moment before he turned fully to greet them.

“Lady Sophya, how good of you to join us. Come, allow me to introduce your cousin, Lord Walter Bromwell.”

Sophya felt Asher stiffen beside her. She composed herself as Lord Bromwell turned to offer them a respectful bow. He was noticeably taller than most of the nobles around them, with hazel-blue eyes and the Viscount’s ash-blonde hair. He also shared Rykard’s high-arched nose and the older man’s widow’s peak hairline.

‘It’s clear to see they’re related. He could almost pass for Rykard’s son.’

“A pleasure to finally meet you, Cousin,” Lord Bromwell said warmly as he extended his hand towards her.

Sophya hesitated, then placed her fingers against his palm. She flushed with embarrassment as Bromwell leaned towards her hand and barely brushed his lips against her skin in a gesture of greeting.

A quick look at her fiancé showed Asher staring at the man with evident displeasure that he quickly masked before extending his own hand in greeting. “I’m delighted to meet more of my darling fiancé’s family. Lord Asher Winslet, at your service.”

“I’ve barely gotten to know you, Cousin, and you’re already engaged,” Bromwell joked as he shook Asher’s hand firmly. “I do hope to see more of you both here at Gilwren in the future.”

Asher appeared to choke on something as he all but yanked his hand back. “You make it sound as if you’ll be here regularly in the future, Lord Bromwell. I was under the impression that your family lived further to the south.”

“Ahh, yes.” Bromwell nodded with a bemused expression. “But it is my older brother who will inherit the Bromwell family estates.” A look of sudden comprehension crossed his face as he glanced sharply at Sophya and then turned his gaze to Lord Rykard. “It appears the Viscount has yet to fill you in on my reason for being here.”

“Are you not here for the Royal Hunt?” Sophya asked curiously, hoping to smooth over the awkward tension she sensed in the air.

“Oh, I most certainly am, Sweet Cousin,” Bromwell replied with another disarming smile. “I partake in the hunt every year as the Viscount’s guest.”

A heavy cloud of understanding fell upon Sophya as she blinked up at the young nobleman. “Forgive me, Cousin, but—might you explain how it is we are related? I’m afraid that I know next to nothing about my mother’s side of the family.”

“Oh, yes, certainly.” Bromwell scratched his jaw as he glanced towards Lord Rykard again, only to find the Viscount had turned his back on the conversation. “My father is the Viscount’s youngest brother, which technically makes me your uncle, I suppose.”

‘It also makes you the perfect candidate to inherit Gilwren since Lincoln was Rykard’s only male heir.’ Sophya wrapped her hands tightly around the shaft of her umbrella and smiled. “I see. Thank you for explaining it to me.”

“Not at all. I would be more than happy to introduce you to the rest of the family in the future if you wish,” Bromwell replied with a warm smile that made Sophya resent him all the more.

‘Yes. It’s not my fault the Viscount disowned my mother simply because she married the wrong man. If he hadn’t abandoned us, Lincoln might still be here, and you'd be stuck living the country bachelor life with your brother.’

“They’re here!”

“It’s his Majesty!”

The cries of the crowd around them pulled Sophya from her darkening thoughts as Bromwell quickly turned around to focus on the rapidly approaching line of knights.

“My word, what a feast for the eyes,” a familiar female voice called out.

Sophya flinched and turned around in surprise to find Valarie and Rufous standing behind them. Valarie was holding onto her brother’s shoulder as she attempted to peer over and around Bromwell’s stoic figure. “I can’t see anything.”

“They’ll be here soon enough,” Rufous replied with a scowl and then steadied his sister after she almost tumbled over her own feet. “Stand still. Everyone is staring.”

“Good,” Valarie replied with a haughty smirk as she steadied herself. “What’s the point of wearing such expensive clothes if no one is looking at me?”

Rufous sighed. Sophya quickly returned her attention to the knights that circled around the driveway in flashy silver armor, white tabards, and smartly groomed horses.

“That banner,” Bromwell murmured as he leaned towards the Viscount. “Those aren’t the royal colors.”

“No. Those are the knights of Bastiallano,” Rykard replied stiffly. “Lady Kirsi Valda is in charge of the royal family’s security this year. She will be bringing a small detachment of knights with her for that purpose.”

“The Duchess!” Bromwell straightened while Sophya shrank at the thought of seeing the hateful half-blood again. Even Asher went a shade paler at the sight of the Duchy’s knights.

A welcoming cheer rippled up the driveway as Crown Prince Nicholas rode into view, accompanied by a young woman Sophya immediately recognized. Her heart thudded sharply against her chest at the sight of the Duchess, dressed in a chest plate of armor over a sparkling red gown of miniature swords studded with diamonds that draped over the back of the white horse.

The half-blood wore a chain mail circlet that might as well have been a crown made up of tiny black swords. Everything about Maura, from her posture and confident smile to the way her cold eyes took in the crowd of nobles with a certain detachment, made Sophya conscious of her simple dress and lack of jewelry.

“No way. Is that her?” Valarie whispered as she rested her chin against Sophya’s shoulder. “Is that the half-blood?”

“In the flesh,” Asher muttered darkly, all but glaring at the picturesque scene.

The Crown Prince dismounted first and then moved quickly to the Duchess’s side.

“Oh my!” Valarie whispered as they watched Nicholas assist the half-blood down from her saddle. The pair moved apart with polite smiles, but whispers continued to circle through the crowd of waiting nobles as Nicholas took Maura's hand and wrapped it around his arm before moving forward to greet Viscount Gilwren.

“What is he doing? Where is the Crown Princess?” A noblewoman whispered to Sophya’s left.

“It looks like the half-blood has upgraded her taste in men from Earls to Princes,” remarked a nobleman close by.

“Scandalous.”

Sophya smothered a laugh. ‘Did they honestly believe that? What on earth could the Crown Prince possibly see in—’

The Crown Prince leaned closer to Maura and whispered something in the Duchess’s ear. The half-blood laughed, her ice-blue eyes smiling in return as she looked back at Nicholas with comfortable familiarity.

‘I think I’m going to be sick.’ Sophya pried one of her hands away from the umbrella and pressed it against her stomach. ‘I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go home.’

The bottomless pit of pain awakened in her chest as Sophya remembered—she no longer had a home.