1705. Luck had never been on Eleanora Finley's side. After her father died in a tragic fire, she was left at the mercy of her domineering and abusive mother, being deprived of all love and affection.
Truly, who would have thought that the simple red...
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1712, Aethiel Palace, Kestramore City
She could vividly remember the soft scent of lavender oil wafting throughout the narrow, drafty room, and on the bed beside hers, sat a tall, slender lady, obliviously combing through her dark locks.
Eleanora thought nothing of it, thinking that she was just another snobby young lady. Ignoring the lady, she got into bed and tucked herself in. However, after a while of tossing and turning, Eleanora found herself unable to fall asleep.
"Psst!" she heard a soft voice call out. "Psst! Oi!"
That was odd. Eleanora was not expecting anyone to interact with her. Not that she did not want them to, she just assumed that they would not want to. She turned around, and was pleasantly surprised to find the dark-haired lady beaming at her, a soft smile etched on her strikingly beautiful features.
"I'm sorry, I didn't notice you," Eleanora apologised.
The lady waved her hand dismissively, letting Eleanora know that there was no need for an apology.
"Hello, what's your name ?" she asked, her smile unwavering.
Eleanora's face flushed red. "My name is Eleanora Finley."
For a brief moment, the lady's eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown, probably due to the fact that there was no noble house with the name Finley. Perhaps, the young lady would begin to ignore her now.
"I'm not part of the twelve noble houses, if you were wondering," she quickly added. Eleanora lowered her head, knowing that this young lady would likely belittle her any moment now.
Except that it never came.
"That isn't something to be ashamed of at all, so keep your head up high," the dark-haired lady said smilingly. "I'm Catarina de Fontaine, and I can be your friend, if you'd like me to, that is."
For what seemed like forever, Eleanora simply lay still in her bed, aghast, unable to believe what she was hearing. Was her mind playing tricks on her, or did the Catarina de Fontaine, the future Duchess of Lorewell offered to become her friend? It sounded way too good to be true.
"You are too kind, Lady de Fontaine," she frowned. She had no friends growing up, so what are the chances that a lady from such a prestigious family would want to be her friend? It was a cruel joke, to be sure. It had to be. But as fate would have it, it was not.
"Catarina," the dark-haired girl corrected with a smile. "We're friends, are we not? So, you must call me Catarina, and I shall call you Eleanora."
Eleanora's eyes lit up upon hearing those words, and her heart simultaneously bloomed with joy. She had a friend now, a true friend.
"Catarina," she repeated. As she lay there, smiling at the girl on the bed next to hers, Eleanora felt a different kind of joy, one that she had never felt before. It was a sense of hope that perhaps, she was never actually meant to be alone, that there were people out there who would accept her, she only has not met them yet.
