𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 (𝐓𝐞𝐰𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

              
                    ✿ [Y/N] POV ✿

"Are you sure you don't want new shoes [N/N]? I'm sure they could bid you well."

I shrug my shoulders, I really couldn't care less. "No, I have many. I don't see the point of wasting money on new ones."

       My Aunt Josephine had dragged me out and we were now walking around town, and the markets. Just simply looking for jewelry and shoes.

"But you know that the way to fix a broken heart is by buying a bunch of things!" She laughs and I wrap my arm around her shoulder, laughing a bit too.

     As we walk, my aunt Josephine babbles on about Daisy's family, and how Daisy doesn't seem to happy with Lorenzo.

  I hadn't noticed, they seem happy in my eyes but I suppose I had taken notice of Daisy's behavior, how she seemed rather uncomfortable.

        As we pass stores and cafes, I stop right in my tracks when I see the one and only Phillip, talking to Inspector Lestrade.

My eyes narrow and I felt my heart stop for a couple of seconds, why on earth were they talking with each other? For what reason?

              I feel my heart churn, the feelings of Tewkesbury's betrayal resurfacing as I see Inspector Lestrade again.

My aunt Josephine looks at me and I smile again, my eyes still watching them.

-

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, silently studying the girl who looked back at me.

My hair was swept into a soft side fishtail braid, a few loose strands falling around my face, framing the gentle angles of my [skin color] skin. The braid looked polished, almost elegant—but the girl beneath it felt anything but composed.

Behind me, my mother stood tall, watching me through the mirror. I could see her reflection too—proud, poised, and already dressed in a deep orange gown that brought out the copper tones of her hair and the sharpness in her eyes.

"You're ready now?" she asked, her voice clipped with expectation.

"Yes, Mother," I answered, suppressing a sigh and a roll of my eyes. I gave in to the moment, smoothing the bodice of my green dress—a rich, formal shade that felt a little too fine for how I felt inside.

She gave a curt nod. "I'll tell them to have the carriage brought around."

As she turned to leave, I reached for her without thinking. "Mother, wait—"

She paused, arching an eyebrow, then returned to me, hands loosely folded in front of her.

"Who's going to the gathering tonight?" I asked, trying to sound indifferent.