Chapter Fourteen
I sat on the luxurious sofa beside Lady Sarah, trying to appear as natural as possible. But inside, tension was slowly eating away at me. The atmosphere in the manor was a blend of elegance and warmth, yet I couldn't shake off a strange feeling… as if I had been invited to a banquet where I didn't yet know the rules.
Lord Denis, with his confident smile, looked at me and said,
"Arwa, my dear, how do you find the manor? Do you like it?"
I lifted my head, taking in the breathtaking details of the place, then smiled gently and answered honestly,
"The manor… is like a masterpiece. I've never seen anything like it in my life."
Lady Sarah, amusement glimmering in her eyes, placed her teacup on the table and said,
"Oh, dear, you didn't tell me you were a poet as well."
Lord Denis chuckled, while Kyle sat in his usual seat, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, silently observing my reaction.
"It seems your father wasn't exaggerating when he told me you were a remarkable young lady," Lord Denis said, his eyes carrying a mix of warmth and admiration.
I let out a nervous laugh and replied,
"I think my father tends to exaggerate sometimes."
But inside, I was screaming: Damn it, I need to remember my role!
I took a sip of the tea in front of me, trying to focus on the conversation, but suddenly, I noticed that everyone was looking at me—
as if they were expecting something.
Lady Sarah:
"Oh, that's true. The manor has its own energy, making you feel as if you're in a long dream."
Kyle, in a sarcastic tone:
"Or in a long nightmare, depending on how you look at it."
Lord Denis:
"Kyle, don't be rude. Don't scare our guest."
Kyle chuckled lightly and turned to me with amused eyes, saying,
"I'm just telling the truth, isn't that right, Arwa?"
I looked at him cautiously, then replied with a careful smile,
"As long as the manor is filled with kind people like you all, I don't think it could ever be a nightmare."
Kyle raised an eyebrow as if analyzing my words, then smirked,
"Smart answer."
Lord Denis, as if wanting to change the subject:
"By the way, Arwa, tomorrow we have a formal dinner banquet with some noble families. It would be nice if you joined us."
I held my breath for a moment. A formal dinner? With nobles?!
I had read enough aristocratic novels to know that such events were an unspoken battlefield—where glances scrutinize, smiles conceal hidden meanings, and words carry more than one implication.
I tried to smile calmly and said,
"It would be an honor, Lord Denis."
Lady Sarah, with a warm smile:
"Wonderful! I'll help you choose a suitable dress. You'll look like a princess."
I smiled nervously, feeling a cold sweat forming on my back. A princess? Ha, I barely knew how to walk in a formal dress!
Kyle, watching my tense expression, spoke in a teasing tone:
"Don't worry, we won't throw you to the wolves."
I shot him a sharp look and said,
"And that's supposed to be reassuring?!"
He chuckled lightly, then stood up, saying,
"Well, I'll be in the garden if you need anything, Miss Arwa."
I remained seated as Lady Sarah began explaining the details of the upcoming banquet, with Lord Denis watching her with a warm expression. But inside, I could only think of one thing:
"Tomorrow, I'll be among the nobles… My God, I just hope I don't expose myself!"
Arwa was sitting in a corner of the spacious hall, sipping her warm tea, when Sarah interrupted her with a bright smile, her blue eyes shimmering as if reflecting the light of the grand chandeliers hanging from the manor's ceiling.
"Oh, Arwa, how old are you now?" she asked warmly, as if speaking to her own daughter.
Arwa's eyelashes fluttered for a moment, and she stammered,
"A-Ah… I'm seventeen years old."
Before Sarah could respond, Uncle Denis interjected with a light smile, placing his cup on the marble table.
"Arwa is still young. She hasn't even made her debut in aristocratic society yet. How can you think of taking her to the banquet?"
Sarah laughed softly and replied playfully,
"My dear, age is just a number! Don't forget, you married me when I was sixteen."
Denis raised an amused eyebrow and replied in a calm tone,
"Oh, my dear, each generation has its own time… and this generation bends the age of adulthood to its liking."
Sarah nodded as if uninterested in her husband's opinion, then turned to Arwa and playfully winked,
"Don't worry, I'll talk to your parents and take you to the banquet with me. It's settled."
Denis waved his hand indifferently and said,
"Do as you please."
But unlike everyone else, Arwa was lost in thought. Why was Lady Sarah speaking this way? And why was she so insistent on taking her along?
Sarah smiled again, gently holding Arwa's hand,
"Come on, my dear! We have so much to prepare. I have two exquisite dresses, both in fashion these days. You'll wear one of them, and you'll attend the banquet with Kyle and me."
Arwa hesitated, raising her hands slightly as if trying to stop this sudden interference in her life.
"Really, there's no need for all this, my lady."
But Sarah didn't seem to be listening. She simply smiled mischievously and softly patted Arwa's cheek,
"My dear, I truly like you. You've entered my heart so quickly."
Arwa felt warmth spreading across her cheeks and didn't know how to respond. She mumbled shyly,
"Thank you for your kindness, Lady Strathmore."
And while Sarah was busy calling Arwa's parents to convince them, the young girl took the opportunity to slip out of the room quietly. She couldn't comprehend the speed of the events she was being dragged into, so she decided to take a short break in this enormous mansion.
Arwa walked through the corridors of Strathmore Manor, admiring the golden-framed paintings on the walls, the marble floors reflecting the glow of the chandeliers, and the towering columns that made her feel as if she had stepped into a royal museum.
"Truly… Uncle Denis has an exquisite taste in everything," she murmured to herself.
But in the midst of her enchanted contemplation, she suddenly collided with something solid—so solid that it made her stumble back.
Or rather… it wasn't a "something" at all.
It was Kyle.
Her breath hitched in shock. She lifted her head slowly, her eyes meeting his deep, dark blue gaze. He stood before her, frowning, staring at her as if she had committed a great crime.
Raising an eyebrow, he spoke in a low, mocking voice,
"Where are you running off to, Cinderella?"