THE SASSY PRINCESS

Chapter 23

The next day dawned quietly, but for Seraphina, it felt like a storm brewing inside her. She lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, wrestling with the confusion of her feelings for Mr. Pedro. The encounter from the night before weighed heavily on her mind, and instead of seeking him out as she usually did, she decided to hide away in the maid's quarters.

When Mr. Pedro called for her, his voice echoing through the halls, Elara quickly intervened. “Seraphina is sick,” she told him, glancing toward the closed door of their quarters. She could see the worry etching itself on his face.

Concerned for her well-being, Mr. Pedro turned to Marie. “I need to see her,” he insisted, his voice firm yet laced with apprehension.

Marie nodded and hurried to the maid’s quarters with him trailing behind. As they approached the door, Clara, who had been cleaning nearby, noticed them and approached with a raised eyebrow. “What’s going on?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Seraphina is sick. I’m going to check on her,” Mr. Pedro replied, not even glancing at Clara. He knocked on Seraphina’s door gently, calling her name, “Seraphina? Are you in there?”

Silence hung in the air, thick and heavy. Seraphina held her breath, her heart racing. She knew he was out there, but she couldn’t bring herself to face him. Instead, she remained still, feigning sleep, hoping he would leave.

After a moment of uncertainty, Mr. Pedro opened the door, stepping inside. The dim light of the room cast soft shadows over her sleeping form. As he approached her bed, he reached out, brushing his fingers against her cheek in a gesture filled with genuine concern.

“She looks pale,” he murmured, his brow furrowing. “I hope she’s okay.”

Seeing her lying there, serene and untouched, tugged at his heartstrings. But when she didn’t stir, he sighed, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over him. After a few moments of watching her sleep, he turned to leave. “Tell me when she wakes up,” he instructed Marie, his voice low but urgent.

Clara, who had been watching the exchange, felt a pang of jealousy tighten in her chest. She hadn’t expected Mr. Pedro to be so worried about a mere maid. “Why does he care so much?” she muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing as she followed him out of the quarters.

“Pedro, wait!” Clara called, rushing after him. “Isn’t it a bit excessive to be concerned for her? It’s just a cold.”

Mr. Pedro didn’t respond. He was lost in his thoughts, his mind occupied with Seraphina’s wellbeing. Clara tried to engage him in conversation, but he brushed her off, walking away with a determined stride, leaving her standing in the hallway, frustration simmering in her chest.

Once they were outside the maid's quarters, Mr. Pedro couldn’t shake off the feeling of worry. Why hadn’t Seraphina answered him? He felt a strange urgency to know that she was truly alright. As he walked down the corridor, he replayed the scene in his mind, feeling a mixture of concern and a desire to protect her.

Meanwhile, Seraphina remained tucked beneath the covers, allowing the silence to envelop her. As soon as she heard his footsteps fade away, her heart raced with the knowledge that she had avoided him once again. But how long could she keep this charade up?

In her heart, she knew she was only delaying the inevitable. The feelings she had for Mr. Pedro were becoming impossible to ignore, and she realized that the only way to confront her emotions was to face him again. But the fear of getting hurt, of being seen only as a replacement for Isabel, held her back.

As she lay there in the stillness, she wondered how she would navigate the tangled web of their relationship and whether she could ever truly allow herself to love him.

Seraphina stirred from her restless sleep, blinking away the haze that clung to her mind. The shadows of the evening danced across the walls, a stark contrast to the bright light of the day she had missed. When Marie entered the room, her face was a mixture of concern and urgency.

“Seraphina, you need to wake up. Mr. Pedro wants to see you urgently,” she said, her voice low yet insistent.

Seraphina sat up slowly, the weight of her earlier emotions settling heavily on her shoulders. She rubbed her eyes, wishing she could summon the usual enthusiasm she felt at the thought of seeing him, but today felt different—heavy, burdened by the feelings she had been trying to suppress.

With a resigned sigh, she followed Marie out of the room. The hallways seemed longer than usual, each step echoing her uncertainty. When they reached the sitting room, she found Mr. Pedro waiting, his expression a mix of concern and impatience.

“Thank you, Marie,” he said, dismissing the maid with a wave of his hand. As Marie left, he turned his full attention to Seraphina. “Please, sit down.”

She obeyed, her heart racing as she settled onto the plush sofa opposite him. The room was filled with a tense silence, the kind that crackled with unspoken words and lingering glances.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, concern etching lines on his forehead.

Seraphina shook her head, suddenly aware of the gnawing emptiness in her stomach. Before she could respond, he summoned a maid. “Bring her something to eat. She hasn’t had anything since this morning,” he instructed firmly.

Moments later, the maid returned with a tray filled with an assortment of food—delicate pastries, steaming soup, and a slice of cake. The smell wafted through the air, tantalizing her senses. As the maid set the tray down, Mr. Pedro watched her with an intensity that made her heart flutter, yet her earlier resolve lingered in the back of her mind.

“Seraphina, I—” he started, but she interrupted him, her voice shaky.

“I’m sorry for not coming to see you,” she confessed, looking down at her hands. “I just needed some time to think.”

He leaned forward, his gaze piercing through her defenses. “Think about what? You’ve been avoiding me, and I don’t understand why.”

The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache. She wanted to tell him everything—the confusion, the fear of falling for him, the knowledge that she could never truly replace Isabel. But the words caught in her throat. Instead, she focused on the food before her, picking at the pastries without much appetite.

“You don’t have to pretend around me, you know,” he said softly, his voice low and reassuring. “I care about you, Seraphina. More than you realize.”

She finally looked up, meeting his gaze. The warmth in his eyes was undeniable, yet it only added to the chaos in her heart. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered, the confession spilling out before she could stop it.

Mr. Pedro’s expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. “Hurt me? How could you ever hurt me?”

His response caught her off guard. “Because I’m not her, and I can’t be the person you want me to be,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’m just a maid.”

He shook his head, a small smile breaking through the tension. “You’re not just a maid, Seraphina. You’re so much more than that. You’ve brought light into my life when all I had was darkness.”

His words struck a chord deep within her, and she felt the walls she had built around her heart begin to crumble. But before she could respond, doubt crept in again. “What if I fail? What if I can’t be what you need?”

Mr. Pedro reached across the table, his hand hovering just above hers, a silent invitation. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself. That’s all I want.”

For a moment, she considered taking his hand, the longing to feel his warmth overwhelming. But the fear of vulnerability held her back. Instead, she pulled her hand away, focusing on the food as a distraction.

“Eat, Seraphina,” he urged gently, his voice a mixture of encouragement and concern. “You need to take care of yourself. I can’t bear to see you like this.”