THE SASSY PRINCESS

Chapter 22

When the food was finally done, the kitchen filled with delicious aromas that made Seraphina’s stomach growl with anticipation. Mr. Pedro carefully served their portions, the vibrant colors of the stew contrasting beautifully with the white plates. They both carried their bowls to the dining table, the weight of the moment hanging between them like an unspoken promise.

As they settled into their seats, Mr. Pedro sat directly opposite her, and for a moment, they simply gazed at each other. The atmosphere felt charged, almost electric, as they began to eat in a comfortable silence, each savoring the flavors of the meal. Seraphina couldn’t help but notice how he took his time, appreciating each bite, his eyes sparkling with a mix of concentration and enjoyment.

Once the last morsel was gone, Mr. Pedro called for a maid to clean up the table, his demeanor shifting to one of casual authority as he ordered her about. Seraphina watched, a smile creeping onto her lips, impressed by how he commanded the space with ease. After the table was cleared, they moved to the sitting room, where a plush couch awaited them.

They sank into the cushions, the tension from earlier dissolving as they began to chat about their lives, their interests, and everything in between. Time slipped away, and Seraphina found herself laughing more than she had in days. It was refreshing to see this side of him—his humor, his warmth—and she cherished every moment.

Then, as if recalling something important, Mr. Pedro leaned back, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You know,” he began, a glint of mischief in his eyes, “I remember I have a promise to fulfill.”

Seraphina’s heart raced at the thought of what he might say next. “Oh? What promise?”

He grinned, a spark of nostalgia in his gaze. “Do you remember the day we made that bet over drawing? You said I drew you as a rabbit, and I swore I’d get back at you for it.”

Seraphina chuckled, the memory bubbling to the surface. “Yes! You drew me with big ears! I’ll never live that down.”

“Well,” he continued, leaning forward, “I think I still owe you for that, don’t I?”

“Definitely!” she replied, her eyes bright with mischief. “But first, I have something to ask you.”

His expression turned serious, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, she asked, “Do you think you will ever fall in love with anyone else apart from Isabel, your fiancée who died?” The question hung heavy in the air, and she felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

Mr. Pedro’s gaze dropped to his hands, fingers absently tracing the edge of the coffee table. The silence stretched as he considered her question, his brow furrowing in thought. “Isabel was… everything to me,” he finally replied, his voice tinged with sorrow. “She was my first love, my best friend. Losing her changed everything.”

Seraphina’s heart ached at his words. She could see the pain etched across his features, the weight of grief still heavy on his shoulders. “I understand that,” she said softly, “but do you believe you can open your heart to someone else someday?”

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers, and she could see the vulnerability behind them. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his tone honest and raw. “Sometimes, I think I can, but then I remember her, and it feels impossible. I’m scared to let anyone in.”

Seraphina nodded, feeling the gravity of his emotions. “It’s okay to be scared, Mr. Pedro. Love isn’t easy, and it comes with its own set of risks.” She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “But maybe, in time, you’ll find someone who can help heal those wounds. Someone who can make you laugh again, even if it’s just a little.”

He smiled faintly, appreciating her insight. “I hope you’re right. I really do.”

As they exchanged glances, an understanding passed between them, a bond strengthening in the midst of shared vulnerabilities. In that moment, Seraphina felt a flicker of hope for both of them—a hope that perhaps love, in its many forms, could find a way into their lives again.

They spent the rest of the afternoon sharing stories, slowly breaking down the walls they had both built around their hearts. And while the specter of Isabel lingered in the air, it felt less like a barrier and more like a bridge, connecting them in ways they had yet to fully explore.

One day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the estate, Mr. Pedro returned home later than usual. His usual confident demeanor was replaced with a staggering gait, his cheeks flushed from what could only be a night filled with too much drink. The faint smell of alcohol wafted in the air, wrapping around him like a shroud.

Marie, who had been tidying up the sitting room, quickly assessed the situation as he stumbled into the house. “Oh dear,” she murmured to herself, shaking her head. It was clear that he needed assistance, and with a sense of urgency, she hurried to his side. “Mr. Pedro, let’s get you to your room,” she instructed gently, her voice filled with concern.

As they made their way upstairs, Marie realized she would need extra help to care for him. “Seraphina!” she called out as they reached the landing. “I need you to come here, please!”

Seraphina, who had been in her quarters reading, rushed out upon hearing Marie’s call. She found them just outside Mr. Pedro’s room, where he leaned heavily against the doorframe, struggling to maintain his balance. A wave of concern washed over her.

“What happened?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

“He’s had a bit too much to drink,” Marie explained, her eyes darting to Mr. Pedro. “I need you to help me get him into bed.”

As they managed to guide him into the room, Marie went to retrieve some water and a cool cloth, leaving Seraphina alone with him. The air felt thick with unspoken tension, and Seraphina could hear his labored breathing as he leaned against the bed, looking utterly disheveled.

Suddenly, Mr. Pedro turned his bleary eyes toward her, and in a slurred voice, he reached out to touch her hand. “Isabel…” he murmured, his voice filled with longing and grief.

The moment felt like a sharp knife twisting in Seraphina’s gut. Disgust washed over her, and she jerked her hand away, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. “I’m not Isabel,” she said sharply, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions.

She turned and walked out of the room, her heart pounding. The door clicked shut behind her, and she leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. The encounter left her feeling unsettled and hurt, the shadow of his lost love looming too large for her to ignore.

Marie returned moments later, a cool cloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other. “What happened?” she asked, concern etching her features.

Seraphina shook her head, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I… I have a headache. I can’t do this right now,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Seraphina, I understand. Why don’t you take a rest? I’ll manage here,” Marie suggested, her tone sympathetic. “And I can call Elara to help, too.”

“Okay,” Seraphina replied, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She turned and made her way to her quarters, the encounter with Mr. Pedro replaying in her mind.

As she lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling, she felt a mix of frustration and sadness. Was she really just a replacement for someone he had lost? The thought pierced her heart, making it hard to breathe. She wanted to help him, to be someone he could lean on, but the reality of his unresolved feelings for Isabel made everything complicated.

With her heart aching, she closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would come and sweep away the tumult of her thoughts. But deep down, she knew that her feelings for Mr. Pedro were only growing stronger, and the path ahead was more tangled than she had ever anticipated.