10.
At my uncle’s house, I was always tethered to digestive medicine. Diarrhea, constipation, bloating, and heartburn were so constant that I had grown accustomed to them as if they were a natural state of being.
But here at the convent, I hadn’t felt a lick of discomfort since the first few days.
‘Why is that? Is it truly because this place is blessed by Yawar?’
I didn’t believe in divine miracles, yet such thoughts occurred to me with an unnerving, natural ease.
As I retraced my memories, I realized that my diet here was a complete departure from my life in the capital. Back then, I typically ate two meals a day, only when the whim struck me, often skipping them entirely whenever Bella turned my stomach. Other times, I would overeat—a hollow attempt at emotional compensation.
‘I think I ate far too much sweet, greasy food.’
The only reason I didn’t gain weight despite such a regime was the inevitable indigestion that shadowed every meal. Even when I craved a light bite, my aunt would insist, “You must eat heartily!” and force a meat-heavy menu upon me.
At first, I thought she was looking out for my health, but as time wore on, I began to wonder.
Once, after eating grilled pork, I had grown violently ill and vomited; yet, the dish continued to appear on Harriet’s table with suspicious frequency afterward.
‘She probably didn’t even remember that it made me sick.’
There were other, more painful episodes.
When I once remarked that it was strange my hives worsened whenever I drank a certain tea, I was scolded for being fussy and forced to consume food that turned my palate sour.
Was it just an over-sensitive victim mentality, or did Bella’s expression while watching that always seem strangely amused?
‘Come to think of it, I almost choked after eating a crab dish, too.’
I remembered the terror of my lips and throat swelling, the frantic gasping for air. When I suggested that the food might be the culprit, my uncle reacted as if he had been personally attacked.
“Because of this dish? Everyone else ate it, but only you reacted that way. You’re always picking at such strange things.”
So, I could never bring it up again. If I ever felt my throat tightening while eating, I would simply put down my fork and rush to the bathroom to heave it back up in the dark, alone.
However, I never experienced that at the convent.
‘Rye bread, vegetables, honey, milk, cheese, wine, fruit, and sometimes ham…’
I rarely ate meat here. Meal times were rhythmic and consistent, and I performed labor that burned energy after every sitting. There was no designated tea time, and sweet desserts were not even a dream.
But because I wasn’t sick, I didn’t miss the rich fare of the mansion.
‘I turned out to be a person who needs to eat far more simply and move much more than I thought.’
Harriet smiled, a small, brief thing, at this newfound knowledge of herself.
* * *
As the social season bled into summer, the city bustled with events accompanied by clinking ice in cold drinks and the crunch of cucumber sandwiches.
The nobles’ schedules were packed throughout July and August, and those scrambling for last-minute invitations pulled every thread they could reach.
In the midst of this frenzy, John burst into the house, clutching something in his hand, his voice booming for Bella.
“Bella! Bella, where are you!”
“Father, you startled me. What’s going on?”
Bella looked down from the second-floor railing with an irritated arch to her brow, but instead of explaining, John merely looked up, his face flushed with triumph.
“Bella! Do you have any prior engagements next Wednesday?”
“Yes. I’m going boating with my friends. To Tolles Park…”
“Cancel it.”
“What?”
As Bella furrowed her brows at the curt command, John waved the parchment in his hand like a trophy.
“I’ve obtained an invitation to the party at the House of Kingsley! Do you know who is coming to this event?”
“Seeing you this excited about a party at the House of Kingsley… I suppose Duke Kaylas is coming?”
“My daughter is as sharp as ever!”
John bounded up to the second floor and hugged Bella tight.
“Oh, Father! You’re ruining my hair.”
“Apologies. I was just so overcome.”
Bella chuckled, snatching the invitation from his hand. The card, embossed with an elegant crest, was indeed a request for attendance at the Kingsley estate next Wednesday.
“Where did you get this?”
“I went to the gentlemen’s club and shed a few tears before Count Arens. I told him that since the victory banquet, I’ve been keeping a low profile out of embarrassment and wasn’t getting invitations to any decent places.”
“If it’s Count Arens, you mean that soft-hearted old man?”
“Exactly! Today, he just handed this to me. Said he wanted to avoid the heat and told me to go in his stead.”
John preened, satisfied that his relentless curation of connections had finally borne fruit. Bella smiled slyly, sliding the invitation back into its envelope.
“I don’t have time for a new dress, so buy me a set of earrings and a necklace instead.”
“W-what? Don’t you already have enough?”
“I have to target Duke Kaylas! Since he’ll be wearing that ruby brooch again, I need to mirror him. I only have ruby sets with small stones, you know.”
Since Bella refused to wear anything less than exquisite, a ruby set with large, vibrant stones would cost at least 20,000 dirhams. John hesitated, trying to temper his pulse.
“You’ll stand out regardless, Bella.”
“Father. Standing out once only puts you at the starting line. You have to think long-term.”
As expected, it didn’t work. Before John could retreat, Bella grabbed his sleeve, pressing her advantage.
“When I go, I’m going to apologize for the ruby brooch incident again and strike up a conversation. If I’m wearing rubies, it creates a ‘ruby’ connection between us.”
“Hmm…”
“From then on, whenever he sees a ruby, he’ll think of me. Human hearts are designed to be influenced by such trivial triggers.”
It wasn’t just her beauty that had captured men; Bella understood the architecture of desire.
“Men are weak to visual stimuli. And the trigger that makes them believe it’s ‘destiny’ is never anything grand. An encounter with a woman wearing a red ruby—that alone is reason enough to fall, isn’t it?”
John nodded slowly, finding the logic dangerously persuasive.
“And since I saved you from paying that alimony to Duke Kaylas, you should be able to do at least this much for me.”
“That was thanks to you?”
“Oh, of course! He only let it slide because I begged him to forgive you; surely you don’t think he did it because he likes you or Harriet?”
John chuckled. Indeed, Bella was his daughter—she possessed a silver tongue. And it wasn’t wrong. Unless he had been infatuated with her beauty, Cedric would have had no reason to let the situation pass.
John’s eyes darted, calculating the odds.
‘If Bella could really become Duke Kaylas’s lover…!’
What was 20,000 dirhams? If it were Bella, she would bring back information worth ten times that investment.
“Alright, fine! There isn’t much time, so go visit the jeweler with your mother starting today!”
“Thank you, Father!”
In the end, Bella secured the ruby set worth 25,000 dirhams. Aston pouted, demanding a raise in his own allowance, but even he couldn’t deny that the jewels suited her perfectly.
* * *
The early summer evenings were romantic, defined by cool breezes and lingering, golden sunsets.
Women’s dresses became daring, and men weren’t criticized for unbuttoning their collars, blaming the stifling heat and the potency of the wine. It was why people preferred the summer banquets.
If you added excellent food to the mix and a rare guest, the party would become the talk of the town for days.
‘Just like tonight.’
Benedict Kingsley smiled, a thin, secret thing, as he looked down at the hall swarming with the elite.
“When is Cedric arriving?”
His son, Albert, had approached him, his voice low and jagged.
“He will be here soon. The protagonist is always destined to appear late, after all.”
“It’s our party, Father. Why must he be the protagonist?”
“Albert.”
Benedict placed a heavy hand on his son’s shoulder.
“You must know how to humble yourself until you hold the reins. If we can strip away even one of the business rights he holds, does it matter if we treat him like a king? It costs us nothing.”
“It makes my blood boil! Treating that brat like a Duke, as if he’s entitled to be pampered.”
Albert clicked his tongue. Cedric was two years his junior, yet he had already inherited the dukedom and was hailed as a war hero. Meanwhile, Albert was destined to remain the ‘viscount’s heir’ in perpetuity.
Every time a night like this occurred, Albert couldn’t help but wonder: *What if my uncle had remained the second son?*
If that were the case, it would be Cedric reading the room and sucking up to him.
“Father and Uncle look identical, yet one receives a dukedom for acting as the Empress’s kept man, and the other…!”
“Albert!”
As his father’s expression darkened with warning, Albert bit his tongue and fell silent.