𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 (𝐓𝐞𝐰𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞

"What nonsense are you speaking of?" You asked softly, though dread crept into your voice. It seemed inconceivable that the Bradbury's could be in such peril.

Your mother's expression hardened, her tone sharp and clipped. "We lost a great deal when the Basilwethers refused to support your father's bill. That failure cost us dearly [Y/N]."

You tilted your head in confusion, trying to grasp the gravity of her words.

"Your father has been consumed by this. The stress has taken its toll," She continued , her voice wavering as though her own resolve was crumbling. "Ever since your father put his bill into place instead of Lord Basilwether."

Confusion filled you. But Tewkesbury was so kind? Could it be he was lying? Trying to trick you into helping his family ruin yours?

No. The voice in your head said, for he seemed too genuine. Her words struck like a blow and your chest tightened. You had always admired your fathers strength, but to idea of him burdened by such struggles filled you with deep sorrow.

As you processed revelation, your mother reached out, cupping your cheek in an unsual gesture of tenderness. Her gaze softened, but the voice carried a weight that made your stomach ache.

"You are the only one who can save us." She said, her words laced with desperation.

"What do you mean?" You asked, though deep down, you feared you already knew.

She hesitated for a moment before the truth dawned on you. Your body stiffened, and you stood abruptly, anger blazing in your chest.

"I will not marry Phillip!" You declared, your voice rising, "I refused to be sacrificed for the sake of wealth!"

Her eyes flashed with fury, and her composure cracked, "Do you want your father to collapse under the weight of this? Do you want to see our name dragged through the mud, our fortune stripped away?"

"My father cares for my happiness," You shot back, your voice trembling with conviction, "He would never demand such a thing of me."

  She laughed bitterly, her hand dropping from your face. "And tell me, child, what is more important? Your fleeting happiness or the health and well-being of your dear father?"

Her words struck a painful chord, and you hesitated. Of course, you loved your father more than anything. His well-being was paramount. But to marry a man you did not love, to wed for money and power—it would be a cruelty not only to yourself but to Phillip, who seemed to hold genuine affection for you.

Your hands clenched at your sides as the room seemed to close in around you. The weight of her words hung in the air and once again, you felt the crushing burden of the choice she was trying to force upon you.

                                  -

 
     The day of the ball had arrived, and you found yourself preparing for the evening with Enola. She was fussing with her gown, a cloud of fabrics swirling around her as she ranted about her old brother Mycroft and his rigid, oppressive idea.