Hiraeth

Chapter Three

The next few days passed in a blur of preparation and tension. With the Duke of Fleck's impending visit looming over her, Sage felt the weight of expectation pressing down on her like a thick fog. Her father was relentless in his efforts to polish her into the perfect lady, and she found herself slipping deeper into a role that felt increasingly foreign.

As she sat in her room, surrounded by luxurious fabrics and intricate gowns chosen for her by her mother and the estate's seamstress, Sage stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked the part of a dutiful daughter-elegant and poised-but inside, she felt like a prisoner, her spirit rebelling against the constraints of high society.

"You look lovely, my lady," Clara said, stepping into the room with a fresh bouquet of flowers. "These were just delivered. They're from the Duke."

Sage's heart sank at the mention of his name. "Lovely," she echoed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Just what I need. More reminders of what's to come."

"Perhaps you should take a moment to appreciate them," Clara suggested gently, arranging the flowers in a vase on the dresser. "It's a sign of his interest."

Sage sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Interest or obligation? I can't help but feel he sees me as a prize, not a partner."

Clara looked up, her brow furrowed. "He's a gentleman of high standing. Many would be honored to have his attention."

"But at what cost?" Sage said, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "I don't want to be seen as an object to be won. I want to be respected for who I am, not what I represent."

Clara paused, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Perhaps you should tell him that when you meet. Show him that you're more than just a pretty face."

"Easier said than done," Sage muttered. "But maybe you're right. I need to stand my ground, even if it means challenging the expectations."

After a moment, Clara smiled, her eyes brightening. "That's the spirit! You are strong, Sage. You just have to remind yourself of that."

Sage appreciated Clara's encouragement, even as doubt still flickered in the back of her mind. The day of the Duke's arrival, she felt a mix of excitement and dread. Would he see her for who she truly was, or would she remain a mere pawn in the game of alliances and power?

Later that afternoon, as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the estate, Sage prepared to greet her guests. The grand hall was adorned with flowers and banners, a testament to the importance of the occasion. Her heart raced as she paced in front of the mirror one last time, adjusting the deep red gown that hugged her figure, the fabric shimmering like leaves in the sunlight.

"Ready or not," she murmured to her reflection, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.

When the time came, Sage descended the grand staircase, her father waiting at the bottom with an air of authority. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took in her appearance. "You look perfect, my dear. Just remember to be charming. This meeting is crucial for our family."

"I understand, Father," she replied, trying to mask the defiance simmering beneath her surface.

The door opened to reveal Duke Fleck, his tall figure silhouetted against the light, flanked by several of his aides. He stepped inside with an air of confidence, his sharp features catching the light as he scanned the room. When his gaze landed on Sage, a smile crept across his face-charming and calculated.

"Lady Sage," he said, his voice smooth and inviting. "You are even more beautiful than I remembered."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Sage replied, forcing a smile as she approached him, feeling the weight of her father's expectations heavy on her shoulders. "It's a pleasure to have you here."