Arya's steps echoed on the staircase as she descended, her heart drumming with anxious anticipation. It had been three days since Natasha's summoning, yet there were no signs of her arrival at the duchy. Alfred and Sir David stood at the door, tension palpable in the air. Making her way towards them, Arya asked the butler, "What's the matter? Is a guest coming at this hour?" Hearing Arya's voice, both of them flinched. Alfred, visibly flustered and sweating, stuttered a response, "Madam, no one is coming at this hour. It's just…" He made a sidelong glance at David and added, "It's just Sir David here." David, taken aback by the mention of his name, glanced at Alfred, "Is waiting for the Master. I just came to check up on things."
Caught off guard by Arya's direct gaze, Sir David struggled to articulate the situation. His hesitation betrayed the gravity of whatever had transpired. "That, um, madam. What happened is…" Before he could formulate a coherent explanation, Stefan's hurried arrival disrupted the uneasy silence. As he began his flurry of questions, "Hey, did he arrive already? What about the woman? Has she came along with him, huh? Why aren't you saying anything? You won't stop blabbering when I say to stop, so why now…" Stefan kept talking, despite Alfred signaling him to stop, until he finally noticed Arya. Due to David's large physique, he had not initially seen Arya's presence. A deadly silence enveloped them as Stefan's tirade faltered upon noticing Arya, who confronted him with icy composure, demanding an explanation. Her piercing gaze bore into him, a silent challenge for him to come clean, "Sir Stefan, mind explaining the situation here?"
The silence broke with the clip-clop of horses as a carriage stopped at the doorstep. Arya turned to see it was a carriage belonging to the duchy. Ivan stepped down and extended his hand to support the person inside. A beautiful hand grasped his as the person emerged, revealing a stunning figure. She stepped out gracefully, her denim blue skirt and coat giving her a regal appearance, perfectly complementing her fair complexion. Her platinum blonde hair was styled in a romantic curly updo, and a slightly tilted hat adorned her head. Her blue eyes held a gaze full of trust as they met Ivan's. Their affectionate display led Arya to ponder, 'He even dolled her up before bringing her here. Why not just walk the aisle?' Arya's gaze remained fixed on them, unwavering even as they approached.
"Arya, this is…" she didn't let Ivan finish, strikingly interjecting, "your mistress?" Ivan, taken aback, exclaimed, "What?" She continued, "Stefan did say you would bring a woman home." Glancing at Natasha, she added, "Welcome," before turning and walking back to her room. Left with Natasha, Ivan glared at Stefan and hurried to Arya's side, "Wait, wait, you've got it all wrong," he pleaded, trying to hold her, but she politely pushed his hand away, saying, "It's okay. It's no bother."
Observing her calm demeanor, Ivan grew anxious, "No, Arya, dear, wait. There's nothing like that. Listen to me first." Disregarding his words, Arya stated, "We can talk later. I'm going to my room to rest. Well then, pardon me." Ivan stood rooted to the spot, his mind racing, 'She wasn't angry, she didn't yell. Her composed manner... does she not care? What value do I hold in her life?' "You messed up big time," Stefan muttered as he approached him. "Try talking to her when she's calm. If you wait, you might never get a chance to fix this."
"Um...," Natasha began, unsure of what to say in the tense atmosphere. The butler turned to her and led her inside. "You don't need to worry. They're always lively like this."
"But I feel like it's my fault?" she spoke uncertainly.
"Don't dwell on it. Come, I'll show you to your room," the butler said, guiding her. David was left alone in the hall, standing awkwardly.
As the twilight hour descended after sunset, Arya remained secluded in her room. Tension gripped the mansion; some were eager to witness the Duke's persuasion of the Duchess, while others fretted over the validity of her suspicions. Fear loomed over the potential repercussions the Duchess's wrath might bring. Throughout the duchy, anticipation and apprehension mingled, each person bearing their unique blend of hope, anxiety, and uncertainty. The atmosphere reverberated with the gravity of imminent choices, unresolved doubts, and the looming clash between the Duke and the Duchess. The servants anxiously awaited the unfolding of the moment.
Ivan approached Arya's room, halting outside the door. He knocked once, twice, but received no reply. On the third knock, Arya responded, "come in." The servants, hidden behind pillars, listened intently. Though Ivan knew of their presence, he stayed silent, not wanting to disrupt Arya's mood. Pushing the cart filled with sweets, he entered the room. Arya was engrossed in her work, papers scattered across her table and floor. Ivan noticed ink smudged above her jawline and couldn't help but smile at the sight of her and the chaotic room. "Why are you the one bringing that? Where's Miya?" without meeting his gaze, she said. Arya's words sounded bitter to Ivan."If you don't give me a chance to explain myself, won't that be cruel? Even the most hardened sinner is given a chance to redeem themselves," Ivan replied with nothing but sweet pleas in his tone.
She moved some of the papers from the sofa to make room for him to sit, she said, "I do want to believe in you. But can you say with conviction that you do not feel for that woman? Are you certain about your feelings? About…" She wanted to say 'me', yet her tongue halted before doing so. Biting her lips, she added, "Besides, you don't owe me an explanation. Forget about the things I said. I was out of line this time. It's okay, we are partners in crime, not for a lifetime."
Ivan just gazed at her, listening as she uttered each word. 'Hurt' – that's what he was feeling at that moment. It was painful, unbearable. As if he was bottled inside, gasping but unable to breathe, living yet not. Getting up absentmindedly, he said, "Right. I'll be on my way," and then he left. Without a single glance back at her, he left the room.
He returned to his office and slumped onto the sofa, replaying her words in his mind like a broken record, sinking him into despair. Stefan, seeing his friend's state, tentatively remarked, "So, things didn't go as planned, huh?" "Leave," he uttered with icy contempt and barely contained anger. Sensing his friend's mood, Stefan decided it was best to leave him alone. He glanced at Ivan and silently exited the office.
'What wrong did she say? All were true words. We are merely in a contractual relationship; she is right in her place. So why does it feel this way? Natasha was the only one my heart ever belonged to, even in former lives. So how come her questions send this much hurt into my heart? This heart of mine doesn't even belong to her, so why must it be hurt this way? Natasha's presence here, the fight between darkness and human kind, with her help could comes to a stop; her mere existence is the hope of life. All my calculations have fallen into the right place, so why is letting go of Arya has become so unbearable? Arya, Arya, Arya, this single name has created a havoc in my world; a danger must be eliminated, but without her, imagining a world is not my reality anymore. She is essential for my reality, for my world. But why has she become so important? Why?' As his mind flooded with thoughts even knowing the answer his heart was troubled.
At dinner time, it was Arya and Natasha, at the dinner table. Arya was clamly eating her supper while Natasha was anxious about how to eat. As of modern day, many aren't accustomed to formal dining etiquette, they mostly eat as they like. However, suddenly finding herself into a different world with different people and their culture Natasha found it's difficult to adjust. All she wanted to do was return back to her home, but given the situation it seems; it is not possible at the moment.
"Eat however you want. It's okay, nobody got a say in this," Arya said as she dabbed the napkin on her lips and added, "It seems you are quite hungry. Eat to your fill; there's plenty of food. If you need more, just call for it. Be at ease."
It had been days since she arrived in this strange world. Some hooded people suddenly grabbed her and put her into a cell. Though they gave her food, it was inedible. After some days, a mysterious man came for her. He bought her clothes, food, treated her fairly, and showed her kindness. She did not know why he was showing such kindness nor she did know this man, though she felt a strange connection with him. Upon arriving at this mansion, she learned that he was married to a strikingly beautiful lady who was not only beautiful but also kind.
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