09 : hope.

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The first time the Gunnhildrs paid a visit to Ragnvindr manor, only one thing coursed through your mind the moment their eldest daughter hopped out of the carriage:

Lady Jean was the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen.

While your input wasn't the most credible, given that you'd only met a scarce number of girls your age around the Winery, the fact still stands—almost too clearly for you to bear. Her hair was the color of sweet flowers in full bloom. Her eyes, like the sparkling sea that overlooked the cliffs of Cape Oath. Not only was she blessed with an unfairly lovely face, but it was the way she treated those around her that made her so endearing to the Winery's inhabitants. She was much different from those other noble daughters that aspired to be Diluc's betrothed. Lady Jean didn't have any ulterior motives hidden beneath those sweet smiles. She was simply here because she'd liked Diluc's company.

And that...was something you couldn't quite decide how to feel about.

The eldest Gunnhildr visited the Winery on a weekly basis at most. Whether it was to spar with Diluc or cross-reference their academic notes, you didn't really know. You'd always just been watching from afar—barely hidden behind the doorway to the young master's bedroom. Lady Jean often teased Diluc about his handwriting, how typical it was for boys to have lazy scrawls. And it made something ache in your chest whenever you saw Diluc trying to conceal a smile induced by someone that wasn't yourself.

The worst of it was the dance lessons. You weren't of noble birth, so you'd never had the luxury to take any, but you didhave the chance to observe—to pretend you'll be in Lady Jean's shoes someday. To nobody's surprise, Diluc was just as good at dancing as he was in everything else Master Crepus asked him to do. But the more they spent their weekends dancing the day away in the ballroom, the more you realized that his father's appeasement wasn't the only reason behind Diluc's fervor.

Another ache, one more prominent than the last, found home in your chest yet again.

One day, you told maman about those little pangs in your heart because you told maman everything. But her reaction wasn't one you'd expected in the least. She'd cracked the truth right on top of your plate as...delicately as she could.

"That girl will wed the young master one day, and there's nothing we can do about it."

Of course, hearing the words aloud turned those ripples of pain into crashing waves, but your mother had always told you that hearing the truth was better than fooling yourself with little fantasies. So, every time Lady Jean came over at the manor, you'd always greet her with a smile that's just as sweet as her own—offering tea and snacks even if you were too young to be serving anyone; much more, a guest of the house. This girl was going to be Diluc's wife, and if he's happy, you'd be more than elated for him.

But that's until Lady Jean stopped visiting.

At first, you'd assumed that her own schooling was keeping her from going out of the city. But the days turned to weeks, and the weeks into months. Even by the time Ludi Harpastum came around, she was yet to grace the Winery with her honeyed laughter.

Diluc didn't seem all too fazed by Lady Jean's absence. It almost looked like he didn't care with how soundlessly he'd slipped back into routine without her. And despite maman's reservations about how you obviously felt about the young master, you couldn't help but hope.

(Hope that he'd change his mind. Hope that he'd choose you even if he brought home dandelions everyday for a month because they reminded him of her.)

But you learned a bit too late in your life that hope is a fickle, fickle thing.

...

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