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The Reddington residence was a beautiful manor. Everything about the silk work of the curtains to the polished marble was a dream. Flowers cover the vast land, and the rows of trees weeping atop the roof was a fresh breath.

Marionette’s palms were slick with sweat, thankfully she wore gloves. She’d be lucky if it didn’t seep through the pale cloth. Her muscles tightened, her heart beating rapidly, and as though the waiter noticed her panic he brought a tray of tea and gave her one.

For one thing, the male waiter looked rather feminine but she didn’t say anything. Taking a sip, “Thank you.”

With a sweep of her silken ocean green gown, she crossed four feet of the carpet and hesitated before speaking to the young gentlemen. Attention granted, Hughe Valentine and Nathaniel Reddington, smile expectantly. "Lady Hainford," Nathaniel comes forward, "I bid thee welcome." He slides his hand under hers and raises it to his lips.

Marionette flashes a well-practiced smile and curtsies. "Sir Nathaniel, what a pleasure it is to be joining you on this splendid day." The words her mother drilled into her brain since childhood came to use.

“The pleasure is all mine,” He looked effortlessly stylish—as always—in a royal blue cloak with his hair scrunched and laid into ringlets. His arrival from the campaign, after meeting the new Queen had changed his outlook on those around him.

“If I may interrupt,” A young girl pampered just as well—if not better—approached them. “I will be stealing my dear friend for a short while if you do not mind.”

Agnes, her friend, was a part of their ring of girls who Marionette associated with. She did not know if her friend noticed when Nathaniel's eyes flashed with disappointment but just as quick he returned back to his pleasant demeanor as though it were never there.

“No, not at all.” His voice sounded forced, but the two simply ignored as they strode back to their friends.

From a few steps away, Marionette could hear her best friend, Ester, talking fondly about a boy she’d been smitten with for nearly two weeks.

If Marionette were to speak, Simon, the one Ester adores, is a young handsome fellow but not someone who she would ever give a second glance to. The boy had the kindness and the looks, but not the status. Surely her mother would never allow her to be with a fellow such as him.

Personally, her taste was someone with a nice and sturdy future, one who has an education, and a stable job. It is necessary that he carries the looks, a beautiful facial structure, symmetrical eyebrows, and eyes that make her get lost in them. A man like that was all she needed, a man that certainly didn't exist.

Marionette took a sip of her tea to give her a spare of a few seconds to think of something to say. She couldn’t just tell her true thoughts about this boy to her friend, she would think of her as a ‘too good’ for any boy if she were to utter her feelings.

After taking her third gulp, she gently put down her cup on the small shallow bowl and mustered a smile. “I think Simon is a respectable young man from appearances, but truthfully, I know not of him.”

When Matilda, their eldest friend, spoke, her voice was calm and serious. “Ester, do you truly believe your parents would allow relations between you and a low-class scoundrel?”

Marionette sighed, put her cup down on the shallow bowl, and turned to their table. From where she sat, she could see Agnes satisfied smile. She nodded to Ester and patted her hands, gently now. Though Marionette could not hear what Agnes said to her, she could see the defeat in Esters eyes.

She came to sit beside her, her face drawn and pale in its frame of auburn hair, her mouth a taut line. She was smiling all the time, back when the secret was her own

“What is the matter?”

Ester bit her lip. “They do not understand,” she murmured. “Sometimes, I’m not sure what’s scarier; loving too much or not loving at all. “ She continued. “How could I explain the feeling to others when I do not understand the feeling myself?”








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