Isabel Past

Chapter 4

As the night wore on and the Spring Ball Dance began to wind down, Isabel's parents made the quiet decision to conclude the evening and take their daughters, along with their youngest son, Felipe, back home. Felipe, still young and unaware of the deeper emotional undercurrents surrounding the night, seemed more interested in the festivities and the grand splendor of the event than in the sudden tension that had fallen upon his family. He tugged at his mother's sleeve, his excitement undimmed, while his father exchanged glances with Nicolette, silently agreeing it was time to leave.

The family said their goodbyes with practiced grace, making sure not to draw too much attention. They offered their respectful parting words to the king and Nicolas, doing their best to maintain their composure. Isabel, though still reeling from the events of the night, kept her farewell simple, her voice steady even as her heart felt like it was crumbling inside her chest. She barely glanced at Nicolas, unwilling to let him see the sadness that weighed her down. His gaze lingered on her for a brief moment, but she couldn't bear to meet his eyes. With a final curtsy, she turned away, and the family quietly exited the ballroom.

The journey home was filled with an unsettling silence. Isabel's sisters, Estefania and Sophia, exchanged worried glances but refrained from saying anything. They knew their sister well enough to understand that words would not comfort her tonight. Felipe, still bubbling with energy, asked questions about the ball, about the music and the food, blissfully unaware of the heartbreak his eldest sister was quietly nursing. Isabel remained quiet, her gaze distant as she looked out the carriage window, watching the flicker of moonlight on the passing trees.

When they finally arrived at their estate, Isabel's silence only deepened. She retreated to her room without a word, her legs feeling heavy as she climbed the stairs. Her mother, Nicolette, watched her go with a concerned frown, but even she knew that Isabel would need time to process what had happened. There was nothing any of them could say to ease the pain of her unspoken love being shattered so publicly.

For the next few days, Isabel remained secluded in her room. The once lively, bright space now felt like her only refuge, a place where she could hide from the world and its expectations. She couldn't face the thought of returning to court, of pretending that everything was fine when the image of Nicolas and Lady Sonia still haunted her every thought. The heartbreak weighed on her like a thick, suffocating blanket, keeping her from finding joy in anything.

Her sisters made several attempts to visit, knocking softly on her door and stepping in with gentle smiles, trying to coax her out of her sadness. Estefania brought fresh flowers from the garden, hoping to brighten the room, while Sophia offered her favorite books to try and distract her. But Isabel could hardly muster the energy to engage with them. She appreciated their efforts, but her heart wasn't ready to move on. The pain of seeing Nicolas with another woman—the realization that all the dreams she had secretly cherished would never come to pass—was still too fresh, too raw.

Instead, she found solace in the quiet of her room, where she could let her tears fall without shame, where she could nurse her broken heart in peace. Every corner of the room seemed to hold memories of the hopes she once held dear, and now, they served as gentle reminders of what she had lost. The ball, which should have been a night of celebration, had become the night where her deepest dreams were shattered.

Even the evenings, once her favorite time of day when the world quieted down and the stars offered comfort, no longer brought her peace. The heartache she felt was enough to keep her from enjoying the things she once loved, and each passing night seemed to blur into the next. She kept to her room, waiting for time to dull the sharpness of her sorrow, though she wondered if it ever truly would.

Isabel had been drifting in and out of a restless nap when Sarai, her closest and most loyal friend who was a servant in the house, nudged her awake. Blinking groggily, Isabel turned over, half-buried in the comfort of her blankets, not wanting to face the day, or the world. Sarai, however, was having none of it.