ON HOLD - A Midsummer Night's Deal - Thomas Shelby x OFC - Peaky Blinders

3.

Leonor slowly stirred in her bed, her senses gradually returning from one of the most agitated nights of sleep she remembered having.

She took what seemed hours to even close her eyes, had tossed and turned until her bed creaked in protest and when she finally managed to slowly begin to drift away, she jumped in bed with a loud bang and a racing heart but figured it was her mind playing tricks again, fearing that the feeling of falling she used to get whenever she tried to fall asleep had returned.

The duvet's warmth surrounded her, but the room felt colder than she remembered, and the heavy curtains only seemed to deepen the shadows. She rubbed her eyes the room around her came into focus.

The daylight did its best to peek through the heavy curtains, casting a dimming glow across the bedroom.

With its greatness and history, Arrow House was a far cry from the vibrant and lively Spanish estate where she had spent her youth. The Shelby manor was a world unto itself, with its high ceilings, ornate wallpaper, and intricate paintings.

She inhaled deeply, taking in the faint scent of polished wood and what she expected to be the remnants of a fire that had burned in the hearth the previous night but was greeted with the bitter smell of cigars and cigarettes, mixed with sorrows and booze.

I'll get used to it, she thought as she sat on the edge of the bed. It was her new reality, her life now intertwined with Thomas Shelby's, her fate had been sealed with that ring on her finger.  With a sigh, Leonor reluctantly rose from the bed, the cool wood floor beneath her feet a stark contrast to the warmth of the covers she crossed to the window, pulling the curtains aside to reveal the picturesque view of the estate's grounds, even if, the gardens were neatly manicured.

The view was pleasant, but she still found it too grey.

She missed the bright colors of her old home, where the rooftops felt hot under the sunny sky, and flowers added splashes of red and purple. She missed the smell of her family's vineyards, where the grapes filled the air with sweetness alongside the scents of wildflowers she used to pick out and make beautiful messy bouquets.

And she really wished for the lively talks she used to have in her native language, where laughter and passionate discussions were common, and every word felt like home. At least I have Gloria left to speak to me.

"Oh, God, you're awake." Mary was startled for a moment as she opened the door, but then quickly regained composure as she lowered her head before fully entering the room.  "Good morning, Lady Leonor."

Leonor, switching back to spanish, asked, "Who are you?" She then switched to English, frowning her brows as Mary finished opening the curtains and poured her a glass of water, ignoring what she figured to be a question. "Where's Gloria?"

"She resigned, Mrs. Shelby," Mary spoke, clearing her throat. "This morning."

Leonor scoffed in disbelief, the last remnant of her old life, gone and without even saying goodbye. She had married a man she hardly knew, moved to a foreign land, and entered a world she had only glimpsed in novels but now was quickly turning to one of those short tales in gothic fiction she would sometimes dabble on.

"I'm glad to assist you in anything you might need." Mary tried to help her dress when Leonor returned from the bathroom, being done with her morning routine and personal hygiene but the silent stare she received in return was more than enough. "Mr. Shelby is in his office, breakfast is served."

"Thank you."  She took one final glance around the room before leaving her new bedroom, her footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. It only had been a day and things weren't going as expected.