Chapter 8: The Letter

"Is the dress not too tight, My Lady?"

It was already the third time that Aurora asked that question. Having spent a sleepless night with Raphael, followed by a rather long and tiring crying session in her maid's arms, Rosalie was on the verge of crushing, therefore, neither the convenience nor the comfortable fit of her dress was her top priority, and she ended up ignoring that question for the third time as well.

Aurora, clearly disappointed by her lady's lack of interest in her own attire and worried for her overall state, let out a long, disapproving exhale and shook her head.

"Lady Rosalie, are you sure about going out today? You look very pale and I am scared you might drop unconscious at any moment!"

Rosalie looked at her reflection in the tall standing mirror and could not help but silently agree with the maid's words. Even her breathtaking looks could not compete with an entire night of mental torture, and although Aurora possessed makeup skills that might as well be called mere witchcraft, Rosalie's fatigue was still peeking from underneath her powdered mask, adding up to her overall sickly appearance.

"It's alright, I don't want to be cooped up in this room anymore, I need to go out."

The girl had been locked up in her bedroom the whole week, pretending to be sick while trying to adjust to her new reality and come up with a plan for her future, and while it was true that Rosalie was tired of staying inside and wanted to explore the world outside the Ashtor manor, the main reason why she wanted to leave was, undeniably, her brother Raphael.

'I would rather drop dead somewhere on the streets than see that scum smiling at me while stuffing his face with breakfast food.'

At first, Rosalie was worried that leaving the house without having breakfast with her family would make her father angry, but when Aurora brought her Manoria tea after Raphael left her room, she told her lady that Lord Ian Ashter had sent her additional money and instructed her to order a dress for the upcoming Imperial banquet.

The maid was also sneaky enough to find out from Raphael's aide that his morning training was canceled as he wanted to get more rest having just returned from an exhausting Hunting Trip, thus, the possibility of him tagging along with Rosalie just to watch her every move and, most importantly, to help her "pick a dress", was out of the way.

"Aurora, please check if the carriage is ready, we will have to depart right away."

"But My Lady, it is still too early, all the boutiques are closed!"

Rosalie took a seat behind a small wooden desk next to the bedroom's window, opened the desk drawer, and took out a new white envelope, a sheet of paper, a fountain pen, and her personal seal. She then looked at Aurora's bewildered face and smiled.

"That's alright. We will have to make another stop before reaching the shopping district."

***

Lady Ashter kept fidgeting with the pen between her long, slim fingers, while nervously staring at the blank page on the desk before her eyes.

'What do they even write in such letters? I've read so many novels and yet, I still cannot remember anything related to the personal correspondence among the nobility.'

She tapped her fingers on the desk for another few moments, then let out a long sigh, and shook her head. There was no time for hesitation, anything would do, as long as it piques the receiver's interest.

Thus, filled with the newly found confidence, Rosalie pulled the sheet of paper closer to her and started writing, carefully outlining each word, ensuring its readability, and when she was finally over with it, the girl put it inside the white envelope, wrote her name at the front, and closed it with her personal seal, pleased with the final result.

Right at that moment, as if by a lucky coincidence, Aurora peeked into Rosalie's bedroom and said, rather quietly,

"Lady Rosalie, the coach has been prepared."

"Perfect. Let us depart then."

***

Rosalie was looking outside the carriage window while clenching the white envelope in her pale, bony hands. She was feeling extremely anxious but also a little bit excited since she was about to finally meet the man who might be her only chance at a better life - Grand Duke Damien Dio, the male lead of "Acme Fever".

At last, clearly losing her patience while watching her mistress fidget with the already poorly-looking envelope, Aurora placed her rough hand on top of Rosalie's and asked in a somewhat reprimanding tone,

"My Lady, you are going to turn this letter into trash at this point! Here, let me hold it for you, I will make sure to keep it intact."

She carefully snatched the envelope out of Rosalie's hands, then tried to press it into a somewhat decent-looking state, noticing that the letter had no recipient name written on it. The maid hesitated for a second, however, since she still had no idea where they were headed before going to the Capital's shopping district, decided to voice her concern anyway,

"Pardon me, Lady Rosalie, but are you personally delivering this letter?"

Rosalie nodded, still looking out of the window, trying to soak in the soothing warmth of the morning sunlight and fill her stale lungs with the refreshing floral scent of the forest greenery.

She could have sent the letter with one of the butlers but was scared that Raphael might intercept it, which would obviously end in one of his mad, psychotic feats, and the mere thought of going through it was sending dreadful shivers down Rosalie's spine.

Since Lady Ashter offered her maid only a silent reply, Aurora's curiosity was justly unsatisfied, thus, she let out a short, nervous sigh, and tried again,

"Forgive me one more time, My Lady, but who is this letter intended for?"

At last, Rosalie unglued her eyes from the wonderful scenery outside the carriage and fixed her beautiful but tired grey eyes on her maid's restless face, not able to comprehend the woman's growing uneasiness, and when Aurora's expression began to turn sick with worry once again, she leaned back in her seat, trying to look as nonchalantly as possible, and granted her maid a much-awaited response,

"We are going to the Duke Dio's mansion."

"I beg your pardon?!"

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