uffocating after the cool peacefulness of the outside. Ivy noticed Freya near the refreshment tables as she waded through crowds of gues

quietly, keeping

d concern. "Ivy," she responded, barely above a

Yes, it was refreshing," she answered warily, ch

meone. "That's good," she said quietly, her fingers closing around the exquisi

as familiar enough with Freya to know when something wasn't right, but at the moment she couldn't focus on it. Things

fragrances filled the air. Ivy instantly felt her father's severe glare on her, so she forced a grin to cover up her inner struggl

would see the end to an exciting and fascinating night in Ivy's life. Just befor

inting with her eyes as she stood in front of her easel. Her family's estate's garden view was a source of inspiration as well as a diversion. Her thoughts strayed back to that fat

ings, which served as her haven. She put her brush into a green and blue mixture, hoping to capture the movement of leaves rustling in the breeze. Ivy had alwa

essed decorum, and her sister Freya expected her to be an ally. It was a delicate balance, trying to meet their expectations while chasing her own dreams. As Ivy continued painting, she couldn't

as just another encounter, a fleeting moment in a life dictated by social events and family obligations. Yet, something about Arnol

ntration. Ivy turned to find her sister standing in the doorwa

ying to maintain her c

te affair?" Freya raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on

What are you trying to say, Fr

ise. Look at this-it's wild, untamed, like your thoughts." She glanced at her sister

a was always perceptive, but this felt almost invasive. "It's not what you th

" Freya continued, her tone shifting

Freya, her face pale with shock. "Engaged?" she whispered, feeli

ghter of Prince Edward. It was announced at the ball, though not ever

ed with alliances, deals, and societal obligations. But knowing he was already promised to another made everything more compl

is consume you, Ivy. You've always been strong, focused.

within her. She mumbled, "I know," as she looked at her painting. It was meant to repre

ract paintings, landscapes, and portraits, each of which represented a distinct aspect of her inner turmoil. She tried, though, an

ch encounter a thrill without consequence. Yet, something about Ivy was different. He had assumed their encounter in the garden would fade into the background of his many con

imself. "Get a grip, Arnold," he muttered un

cial events, yet his mind always wandered back to Ivy. It was infuriating. He had never let himself be so affected by a woma

family estate in the evening after vigorously making findings on the Taylor's. He had no idea why he would go so far to see he

sel, her brush moving gracefully over the canvas. The sight of her absorbed in her art struck something d

ld only a few feet away. Her beating heart skipped a beat as waves of emotions swept over her: s

re you doing here Arnold?" despite all tha

gh his hair, "I don't know."

mind me that you're engaged? To make this whole situat

I didn't come here to complicate things. I just... I can'

on. "You're engaged, Arnold," she said quietly, the reality of the situati

his voice. "But what happened between us-it

ry the feelings that threatened to consume her. But she couldn't. Because, in all honesty, she was

isper, "I don't know." "I've tried to

ng hers. "Then maybe we shouldn't forget. M

them. Only the two of them were entangled in a web of dread, de