Chapter One

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(Y/n) (M/n) Carter stared out the window. Her small fists clutched the the skirts of her dress. Her butler had chosen a simple dress since she had no plans of leaving the mansion.

She was tired. Mentally and physically. Her father, the head of the mansion, was pressuring her to choose one of her many suitors to marry. In all honesty she wasn't interested in any of the ones she had already met, and she had met most of them. No matter how hard she tried she could not feel attracted to any of the young men.

They all tried their hardest to catch her attention, she was a very fair and beautiful young lady after all. Every young man around her age wished to call her his own. Even ones that already had a fiance. Not to mention the fact that most young women around her age were extremely jealous of her, making it hard for her to make friends, not that she wanted too anyway.

But that is why her father pressured her so. She could have anyone she wished and yet she didn't want any of them? Ridiculous. He wouldn't have even cared if the man she chose wasn't any of her suitors, as long as they were of high ranking.

She stood from her seat and exited the library. She walked along the halls looking at all the pictures that hung. She stopped and stared at one picture.

The picture was of beautiful woman. She had long (h/c) hair that fell in beautiful curly locks. Her eyes were a enchanting emerald green with grey specks, and her thin lips were painted a deep red.

Avery Carter.

Her mother had died at an untimely age due to an illness. Nobody knew what this illness was. Nobody knew the cure. Her father had hired many doctors, desperate to find a cure to save his beloved wife.

(Y/n) wasn't allowed anywhere near her mother because her father didn't want to risk the disease spreading to his daughter. His one and only child. His only heir. She wasn't there to hear her mother's last words, but her father was. She had never gotten to say goodbye, but her father did. Her mother's personal butler, Andrew, had given her a letter the morning after her death. She had memorized the whole letter.

My Dear Daughter,

I am truly sorry for leaving you in this cruel, cruel world. Just know that I am never going to be truly gone. As long as you remember me I will live on in your heart.

I am very proud of you, my love. Live on. You will do great things. I just know that you are going to grow into a intelligent and beautiful young lady.

Just remember, I want grandchildren.

I love you my little song bird,
Love Mommy~

Even in her last moments her mother was able to be her regular optimistic self. She can just picture how her mother had looked when she wrote about how she wanted grandchildren. She would always tell her that.

What would her mother say now? Would she be disappointed that she had yet to choose a finance? Would she just tell her to follow where her heart leads her?

And what if her mother said the later? How could she follow her heart when there were so many pieces? Simple. She couldn't. She hasn't felt love in 9 whole years. Her heart was shattered the day her mother fell asleep and never woke up.

She hasn't been able to love since.

She looked away from the picture and continued to walk down the hall. She paused in front of a large mahogany door. She pushed open the door and peaked in.

The room was large. A piano was at the center of the room, and at the far end of it, double glass doors led to a balcony over looking the estate garden. (Y/n) walked into the room, shutting the door softly behind her. She walked over to the piano and ran her fingers gently along the keys, being careful of not pressing down to hard, so no sounds will emit from the instrument.

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