Evelyn, a modern woman, finds herself suddenly transmigrated into a novel where her peaceful life is turned upside down by a crazy Duke who happens to be her husband. Her new life is a maze of danger and betrayal, as the Duke is determined to kill h...
Abruptly got to his feet and made way to her office. He did not bother with knocking, in rush he stromed inside, surprising Arya and her attendants. "Wha… as a duke you should be aware that your actions affect the family honour. Please refrain from such behaviour, your grace", Arya spoke, her voice laced with annoyence and irritation. "We need to talk", ignoring her words, "leave us alone", he ordered. "Now what do you think you're doing? First you barged into my office, behave like an uncouth. And now you are ordering my people. Who are you to do so?" She snapped at him. "Fine, go ahead, yell at me, cruse me, do whatever you but please look at me, talk to me", his eyes were pleading more than his voice, his hand quiver in attpemt to hold hers, hasitate to take even a step forward, yet his entire being was pleading to her, begging for her forgiveness.
"Fine, let's talk. It's impossible to avoid forever since we live under one roof," she said, sitting down and gesturing for him to take the seat opposite her. Both settled into silence. Arya waited for him to speak, but he remained seated, his head bowed, hands clasped tightly together, as if gathering his thoughts, resembling a culprit awaiting the judge's final hearing. "So, what do you want to talk about?" Arya asked, growing tired of waiting.
"I know I did something to upset you. The way you looked at me that day, I couldn't shake off the image of it. I don't know what to do, I don't even know what my fault is in the first place. If you don't tell me, how am I to atone for it? Please, give me a chance. I won't inflict suffering on you ever again, I promise. With every fiber of my being, I will endeavor to ensure it. Just don't ever look away from me, it's torturous!" He finally looked up, only to see the vacant look on her face.
"You said what you wanted, now you may leave," she said, getting up to head back to her work. Grabbing her hand, he shouted, "Say it. What is it that causes you to wear that expression? What sin have I committed that makes you scour my very existence?" Turning to him, she uttered each word with gravity, "Even if I say, do you believe you have what it takes to own up to the offense?" Their eyes locked, Arya stand like a firm wall, refuse to back down this time. His heart was in pain, the silance between them is like a murderer killing him with each passing seconds, his grip tightening as he held her hand. After a moment, he let go, leaving reddish traces of his grip on her. "Perhaps you already deem yourself a true villain. What to do? It's always the guilty one who backs down first," Arya remarked spitefully. "If nothing else, I have work left to complete, Your Grace," she made a noblewoman's bow and left him alone in her office, his guilt eating away at him.
"So… bitter, my duchess, so bitter", the room carried the weight of Ivan's melancholy, the air thick with the scent of his Duchess, a bittersweet reminder of her absence. As he sank into the sofa, his sorrow spilled into his words, each syllable heavy with regret.
Alfred came knocking, seeing his master devasted like that, he spoke to encourage him, "A woman's heart is evident to the eyes if we can set our sight in that view. Loneliness isn't always a bad thing; sometimes, it is the greatest method of healing. Give madam that time; eventually, she will look at you." In the hushed exchange, Ivan's anguish painted a portrait of self-doubt and remorse. "Will there ever be a day when I can fill that void?" he asked dejectedly.
"Maybe we should try changing your perspective," Alfred suggested. "A shift in how you see things might be what you need right now." "I don't think that's going to work. I've hurt her more than I thought I was capable of. She's not going to forgive me," He was consumed by guilt, each memory of abandonment and dark wish weighing heavily. Seeing her as a mere tool, perhaps, as she claimed, "Maybe I am the villain in her story". The realization struck like a devastating wave, drowning him in regret and self-loathing.
"Then, Sire, love her so intensely that she comes to embrace that very villain. Fight for her, even if it means fighting against her," Alfred expressed his thoughts. "I have never once seen you give up on anything. And this, is a matter of the heart. So, won't give up." Hearing Alfred words somewhat comforted him, getting up Ivan appreciate his words, "thanks Alfred."
Arya on the other hand was discussing with Martha about how the upcoming ball should be a spectacular one. "Madam, that one is a dessert delicesy, this one is what will serve as the main dish", Arya seemed a bit scattered, "perhaps, a breath of fresh air might help you with claming you", Martha suggests her. "Very well, I will leave the rest to you than", As Arya glanced at the ballroom plans, "and tell the servants to switch to a larger chandelier. Oh! how about the one with the crystals?" Arya suggests. "It would be wonderful", with gentle smile Martha states.
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