ECHOES OF DESTINY

BLYTHE [ 1657]

This was not what I was hoping for. Your father isn't going to like it very much. Meredith remarked, her tone tinged with concern as we both assessed the situation.

Ethan, who had been observing quietly, interjected with a puzzled expression. What happened? he inquired; his concern evident in his voice.

This irresponsible girl here fell off her bed this morning. Good way to start the day, I suppose. Meredith explained, her frustration palpable.

Can we please just not talk about it, alright? Let our brains focus on how we are going to cover this up. I pleaded, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping into my cheeks.

Ethan considered the problem for a moment before a spark of inspiration crossed his features. Can't you wear high boots or something? I saw you were wearing some last time we spoke. he suggested, his gaze sweeping the room in search of a solution.

That's a great idea actually, thank you, Ethan! Guess you're good for something after all! Meredith exclaimed, seizing upon the suggestion. With a determined nod, she promptly exited the room, presumably to search for the perfect pair of boots.

Meredith returned with the perfect pair of boots, though they weren't the most comfortable. But as they say, beauty often comes with a bit of pain-a saying I've never been fond of. Nevertheless, I slipped them on, determined to make the best of the situation.

The carriage will be ready in a few. So, take your goodbyes with Ethan. I'll be in the hallway, Meredith instructed, her tone brisk yet gentle.

Yes, I will. I replied with a nod, Goodbye, Miss Parkins, Ethan waved as Meredith exited the room, leaving us alone.

The door closed behind her, enveloping us in silence. It was just Ethan and me now, and the weight of the evenings' expectations hung heavy in the air.

Ethan, Im so scared for tonight. My father wants me to find a husband. And Im just 17, so he has the legal right to do that. I confessed; the anxiety evident in my voice.

Ethans expression softened with understanding as he listened to my worries. Yes, you're of age now. But Im sure you'll find the one. There are plenty of handsome fellas out there. And if there aren't, I can always make a marriage proposal. He teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

I rolled my eyes at him. How funny of you. Now, my future husband is waiting for me. So, if you could just leave now, I'd really appreciate it!

We both burst into laughter, the tension of the moment momentarily forgotten as we shared a light-hearted moment. With a final exchange of words, Ethan and I walked up to my door, where I bid him a proper farewell before stepping into the awaiting carriage.

Inside, my parents awaited, their expressions a mix of excitement and anticipation. As the carriage set off towards the ball, I

As the carriage rumbled on, the anticipation grew, each passing moment bringing us closer to the grand event. I couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at me, the weight of my fathers expectations pressing down on my shoulders.

I glanced out the window, watching as the familiar streets of our town gave way to the sprawling countryside. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape, a serene backdrop to the turmoil brewing within me.

Lost in thought, I barely noticed as the carriage came to a stop outside the grand estate where the ball was to be held. My heart raced as I stepped out onto the cobblestone driveway, the grandeur of the mansion looming before me.

With a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and prepared to face whatever the night had in store.

The large doors of the grand estate swung open with a creak, revealing the opulent interior bathed in the warm glow of chandeliers. Well, good evening, Mr. and Miss Rosewood. We were looking forward to your arrival. Oh, and there is your beautiful Blythe. Please, come inside. Greeted the host, a gracious smile adorning his face.

I followed in the steps of my parents, attempting to blend into the background, but it seemed my efforts were in vain. The moment we entered the ballroom, I could feel eyes upon me, their gazes like probing needles, piercing through me.

Instantly, a young man approached, his confident stride matching the boldness of his words. Hello, Mr. Rosewood, is it alright that I steal your beautiful daughter for tonight? He inquired, his tone brimming with self-assurance.

My stomach churned with unease at his forwardness. Yes, Mr...? My father prompted, extending a hand in greeting.

Whale, Timothee Whale. It's a pleasure to meet you. The young man introduced himself, his charm evident as he offered his hand.

He's handsome! My mother whispered to me, her admiration thinly veiled.

Meanwhile, I felt an arm snake around my waist, sending a shiver of discomfort down my spine. This Timo something was encroaching on my personal space, his touch unwelcome. I attempted to wriggle out of his grasp, but he only tightened his hold, pulling me closer to him.

So, hello, I haven't properly introduced myself to you. Im Timothee, Timo, for you. You must have a beautiful name just like your body. He remarked with a hint of arrogance, his words dripping with insincerity.

Blythe...! I retorted sharply; my voice edged with irritation as I continued to struggle against his unwanted advances. See? I was right. Everything about you is beautiful. Just as your father said. Timothee remarked, his smirk widening.

Desperate to escape his clutches, I allowed him to guide me through the throngs of people on the dance floor, searching for the best moment to run away.

But that moment never came. We shuffled through the room for at least half an hour, our footsteps echoing softly against the polished floorboards. The flickering candles cast a warm glow across the grand hall, illuminating the intricate details of the ceiling as if they were stars in the night sky. Each gentle flicker seemed to mark the passing of time.

The women, resplendent in their elegant gowns, glided gracefully across the dance floor, their laughter mingling with the strains of music that filled the air. Every dress was a work of art, a symphony of colors and fabrics that swirled and danced with each graceful movement. And beside each woman stood a man, their proud escorts for the evening.

But why should every woman need a man. I could do things perfectly without them. They're nothing but a burden to me. Why aren't you wearing heels? Timos' voice suddenly echoed through my ears. Because they are uncomeatable! That was a lie. But boots are for men, and heels are designed especially for women! Okay, I'll wear pants to the next ball then to prove that these things have nothing to do with gender. I spitted at him. Have you been drinking? Timothee asked, his brow furrowing in concern as he led me to the side of the ballroom and seated me.

What kind of question is that? I snapped, my irritation flaring. Timothee muttered something about getting me some water before disappearing into the crowd.

Seizing the opportunity, I glanced around, searching for an escape route. But before I could make my move, an older man approached me, his gaze lingering on me in a way that made my skin crawl.

Hello, beautiful young lady. What are you doing here sitting all by yourself? Shall I keep you company? he leered, his voice dripping with an unsettling charm.

Im sorry, Im 17, and I was just about to go... I began, my voice trembling with unease.

17? I estimated you much younger. He interrupted, his tone oozing with arrogance.

Without another word, I sprang to my feet and bolted, desperate to put as much distance between myself and the unsettling stranger as possible. But as I turned to flee, I collided with someone, their drink splashing onto me in a cold, wet wave.

Oh gosh, Im so sorry, I didn't... The person began, their voice trailing off as I looked up to meet Timothees confused gaze.

Dizziness washed over me, and suddenly, my body felt strange, as if I were being pulled in multiple directions at once. My arms and head felt too heavy for my legs, and before I could do anything to stop it, I collapsed onto the ground.

But the ground beneath me didn't feel like marble; it had the texture of sand. Wait, how? WHERE AM I.