A love to remember

CHAPTER SEVEN - THE MIDNIGHT SUN

Noel twirled across the ballroom, her ballet shoes barely touching the floor as she practiced her routine with the rest of the class. But just as she was getting into the rhythm, one of the maids burst into the room, a look of excitement on her face.

"My lady, I have a letter for you!" she exclaimed, holding out a small, white envelope.

Noel's curiosity was piqued. "A letter for me?" she repeated, her brow furrowed in surprise. "Are you sure it's not for my father?"

The maid shook her head. "No, my lady, the boy who gave it to me was very specific. He said his master told him to give the letter to you, and no one else."

Noel's eyes widened with intrigue. Who could it be that would write a letter to her in secret? And what could they possibly want to say?

"Alright, you can take it to my room," Noel said finally, trying to sound nonchalant despite her growing curiosity.

As the maid scurried off, Noel couldn't help but wonder who could have written the letter. Was it possible that she was in some kind of trouble? And why was the letter so secretive?

Just then, the Russian tutor's voice boomed across the ballroom, breaking into Noel's thoughts. "Noel, we won't be waiting for you forever! Come back to the lesson!"

Noel blushed, feeling a little guilty for getting distracted. "I'm coming, sir!" she called out, hurrying back to the lesson. But her mind kept wandering back to the mysterious letter, and the secrets it might hold.

As the ballet session drew to a close, Noel made her way to the library to meet her father. The door was closed, as it usually was, but Noel knew that didn't mean she wasn't welcome. She turned the doorknob slowly, the soft click of the mechanism echoing through the hallway.

Her father, seated at his small table, didn't even flinch. "Noel darling, I may be old, but my senses are still intact," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Tell me what is it that you want?"

Noel's eyes sparkled with playfulness as she replied, "Who told you that you're old, your grace?" It was a familiar game they played, one that never failed to bring a smile to her father's face.

Ever since she was a child, Noel had preferred addressing her father by his title, a quirk that had become a beloved tradition between them. Those who didn't know them might assume it was a sign of distance or formality, but nothing could be further away from the truth.

Her father's eyes crinkled at the corners as he replied, "You're touching my gray hair and still trying to convince me about my youth?" He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "I'm sorry, darling, but as you can see, I have a lot of work to do. Please don't disturb me at least for the time being."

Noel's lips curled into a mischievous smile as she began to speak, but her father was one step ahead. "You see, father...I saw this dress in the..." she started, but he cut her off with a knowing glint in his eye.

"There's some money in my drawer, it's all yours," he said, his voice filled with warmth.

Noel's face lit up with a radiant smile. "Thank you so much, father. That's why I love you." She leaned in to kiss her father's forehead, the gesture a testament to the deep affection between them.

Her father's eyes twinkled with amusement as he replied, "That's okay, darling. Please let me finish my work, and don't forget to get me something on your way."