The Letter I Wrote To The Duke (Seriously Editing Had A Huge Plot Hole)

Chapter 1: Writing The Letter

Hey there, this is a new story that I had an idea about and this is the first chapter of it. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Chapter 1: Writing The Letter

EMILIA'S POV.

I walk up the stairs of this big old house and into what has remained my bedroom sonce I was born, but will soonbe mine no more. The door is open, as it always is, I never close my door. I am the only one living here so why would I have to? All of the servants have been in my room cleaning on at least one occasion and I have nothing to hide.

As I walk through the door, my eyes catch upon my bedroom door. I always did love the rich oak of my bedroom door, my father had it specially made,l. I picked out the wood myself as a young girl.

The room is quite, as it usually is, but the whole house has been unusually silent for some reason. My eyes flick to the window when I hear a strange sound, it was only a bird.

I start looking through my night dresses to pick out one to wear to bed tonight. As I am deciding which one, I think about the predicament I am stuck in at this moment. I feel a frown stretch its way on my face. What ruthlessness men can bestow upon people in their way of power, I think to myself.

After picking the nightdress I wish to wear, I hang it on the door hook in my closet. I go to sit on my bed to wait for my lady to come up and help me dress for bed. As if on cue, she walks the doorway and quickly rushes across the room to my bedside. I stand up to meet her. She looks a bit weary and tired; she works very hard for me, there is no doubt she would be tired with all the hours she must work to earn enough pay for her family to survive. She has been working for quite some time; I do not even remember when she first started.

She does most everything by herself, the cleaning, the cooking, and the laundry. She doesn't do the gardening or the lawn keeping, no, Mr. Bergman does that, but she does most everything else around here. Her jobs are set inside the house; I do not make her go outside if she does not wish it. I do not make her do anything if she does not wish it.

She is quite young for being a house lady for a princess, she is my age and she has been working here for us, well, for me for a few years already. We are at the age that we can start being married off by our parents, if I still had mine. She has become one of my most cherished friends. She is there whenever I need or want to talk and she has no shortage of stories herself that she tells me as well. She tells me about journeys to far off lands that have yet to happen for her, but she hopes to travel the country. Her hair is a dark blonde colour, it almost looks golden, while mine looks brown and drab. Her hair seems to reflect the light and make her more noticeable and vibrant.

She has a small, heart shaped face that any woman would be jealous of. Her eyes are as blue as the sky during the day and as sparkling as the stars at night, but they look that way constantly and she twinkles with the sense of her innocence. She should not have had to come and work for me at such a tender and young age, but she and her family do not accept charity and they needed the money. So, I agreed to hire her, Elena as my lady here.

She is always alert, seeming to be waiting for something, anything to happen, even if it never does or never will. Even though she is always watchful, she is alight and bright. She never fails to cheer up and rush away any bad moods that I get rutted into, upon waking. I adore her more than any other person I know in this world or the next. I admit, she has been my most trusted friend for so many years now.

She turns me around and starts to quickly untie the back of my corset with nimble fingers, a skill she quickly adopted when she first started here. Elena is now the best of any of my ladies for tying and untying my various corsets.