Power and Prey

3.

The dining room was eerily quiet as [Y/N] sat at the long, polished table, your maids quietly moving around you, serving your meal with the utmost precision. The usual small talk and light conversation you enjoyed with them were absent tonight, replaced by a heavy, unsettling silence. The clinking of silverware against fine china echoed through the room as you picked at your food, your appetite all but gone. Your mind was far from the meal before you, still fixated on the Marquis's letter, his words swirling in your thoughts. You excused yourself from the table earlier than usual, the tension in your chest growing unbearable. After retreating to your chambers, you changed into your nightgown, and though Aveline had prepared your bed, sleep felt like a distant luxury. Lying beneath the soft covers, you stared at the canopy above, your thoughts still racing, replaying every word of the Marquis's letter, every whispered rumor you had overheard.

By the time you drifted into an uneasy sleep, it was well past midnight, and even your dreams were filled with shadowy figures and haunting whispers.

The next morning, [Y/N] awoke to the gentle knock of Aveline at her door. The daylight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft golden light across the room. You stretched, your mind still heavy with the events of the previous day, but today was another task: a return to the seamstress shop to choose the adornments for your hair.

Aveline helped you into a simple, elegant light orange gown after you had put your chemise, stockings, under-petticoat, stay, and finally the pannier on with her help. The fabric was soft against your skin, and though it was modest, it highlighted your figure beautifully. Your hair was carefully pinned up, powdered just enough to give her a refined air without being ostentatious.

Aveline, admiring her work, smiled at you. "You look radiant, my lady. The orange suits you perfectly."

You smiled softly, appreciating the compliment but still feeling distracted. "Thank you, Aveline. Let us hope today is more peaceful than yesterday."

Aveline nodded as she fastened the last pin in your hair, her hands steady as always. Moments later, you were stepping out of your home and into your waiting carriage. The ride to the seamstress shop was short, but the familiar streets of Paris did little to calm your nerves. You stared out of the window, watching the city pass by, trying to keep your mind clear, though the Marquis's looming presence seemed to follow you. When the carriage came to a gentle stop in front of the shop, [Y/N] took a deep breath and prepared to step out. Just as your foot touched the ground, you felt yourself bump into someone.

"Oh! My apologies, madam. I didn't see you there."

[Y/N] took a step back, regaining your balance as you looked up at the man. He had soft brown hair that curled slightly at the ends, tied at the back with a white bow, and his eyes—emerald green—caught her attention immediately. His skin was fair, with a light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He was dressed well, though not quite in the style of a nobleman, and he seemed genuinely flustered by their sudden collision.

Before you could respond, he reached for your hand, gently taking it in his as if to steady you.

"Please forgive my clumsiness. I didn't mean to... I—" he paused, looking at you closely. "Wait, you... you're the Baroness de [L/N]?"

Your eyes widened slightly as he gasped in realization. His hand lingered on yours for just a moment too long before he quickly pulled it away, stepping back and bowing his head in respect. His sudden change in demeanor was almost comical, though you found it somewhat endearing.

Calmly, with a hint of a smile, you spoke, "Yes, I am. There's no need for alarm; no harm has been done."

He straightened up, looking embarrassed but still curious.