Beatrice's POV
The first thing I noticed when I rose from bed that morning was the letter.
It lay on the floor near my door, impossible to miss. The envelope was a deep, striking red, the kind of color that demanded attention even when you wished to look away. It was thicker than a single sheet thicker than two. Judging by its size alone, it carried weight.
Someone had slipped it through the narrow opening beneath my door.
For a moment, I simply stood there and stared at it.
I hesitated.
Not because I feared the letter itself, but because I feared what it might confirm.
In the end, curiosity won. It always did.
I walked over, picked it up, and carried it to my table. I set it down carefully, then sat before it, staring as though doing so might make it disappear.
After steadying my breath and preparing myself for the worst, I opened it.
What I saw left me stunned.
Inside was the information.
All of it.
Every detail I had requested from the Information Guide was delivered in full, neat order. My heart sank and raced at the same time.
They had told me it would take two days.
It had arrived in one.
The reports were thorough, almost unsettling in their precision. Names, histories, habits, loyalties written with a calm certainty that reminded me how small I truly was in the world I had stepped into.
I read slowly, carefully, absorbing each word.
Halfway through the section concerning the maids of the Count's household, a thought stopped me cold.
What exactly am I looking for?
I knew my goal was to choose one or two servants who would favor me. People who could soften, twist, or delay the information sent back to the Count and Countess.
But I had never truly decided how to choose them.
I leaned back and forced myself to think.
After some time, I returned to the pages with clearer intent. I focused first on the newly employed those whose loyalty had not yet fully settled. Those who had not been shaped completely by fear or routine.
Next… leverage.
The moment that thought formed, I winced.
I hated it.
I hated how easily it came to me. How natural it felt to think the way nobles did, measuring people not by who they were, but by what they could offer.
But survival came first.
Self-loathing could wait.
There was a time when hardship pushed me toward my pocket knife, when I wondered if ending everything would be easier.
Now… Now that there was even a small chance my life could become something better, I found myself clinging to it fiercely.
I may not have had the courage to die.
But I had found the courage to live.
By the time I finished reading everything concerning the Count's household, one name remained etched in my mind.
Rose.
No surname commoners rarely had one.
She had joined the household two months ago. Young. Quiet. And burdened with a sick sister.
My chest tightened.
If the information was true… if her love for her sister was genuine… then perhaps,
Perhaps I could help her.
And in return, she might help me.
I hated that even kindness now came tangled with conditions.
A knock broke the silence.
"Beatrice, are you in?" Elena's voice came through the door.
My heart jumped.
I moved quickly, gathering the papers and hiding them from sight. Even though Elena knew I had gone to the Information Guide, I could not, would not tell her how I planned to use the information.
She was too pure for that weight.
"Come in," I said once everything was concealed.
She rushed inside and flopped onto my bed as though it were her own.
"Elena" I began, ready to remind her she should not linger. Ready to tell her to leave so she wouldn't be noticed and scolded and so I wouldn't be punished but
Then I stopped.
If punishment were coming, it would have come already. Yesterday should have been enough.
It never did.
Another quiet benefit of my engagement.
It saddened me how these simple freedoms, privacy, safety, tolerance were things a person should have by birth. Yet I had only received them through the Duke's name.
"What were you doing before I came in?"
Elena asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.
"Thinking," I replied. "Nothing more."
It was not a lie. Just not the whole truth. Just somewhere in between
"Hmmm," she said thoughtfully. "I suppose becoming a Duchess would keep anyone awake. especially one of a very prominent family is enough to put you into a sleepless slumber" she said but
Her words startled me. And it got me thinking
I had not thought of it that way.
She noticed my expression and laughed, lifting a pillow. she raised her voice slightly while aiming a pillow at me before saying
"Tell me you weren't thinking about your role or your handsome hot and gorgeous future husband that half the women of this country would willingly line up just to get his seed in them, but you that you would be getting that with ease isn't the least bit concerned" she teased. But you do know I'm not joking when I say "Half the women in this country would line up just for a chance at him, and you look like it barely crosses your mind." She asked while
She aimed the pillow at me playfully.
"Careful,I must warn you," she warned. "Your answer may earn you this." "so it can knock some sense into your brain" she added
"I suppose… I haven't thought much about it," I admitted. "There's been so much else"
The pillow hit my head. I didn't get to complete my statement before I felt the pain from the pillow as it landed right on my head
"That's for forgetting to live," she said firmly, then lowered her voice. "You worry too much.
You can't keep letting your mind cage you, live enjoy He'll never find out about your birth. And what happened with my brother had to be an accident. With your personality I can't imagine otherwise."
She sighed dramatically.
"Please. Think about something nice.
Something warm. Something… romantic, anything would be better than worrying."
I stared at her.
This was what I loved about Elena, her lightness. Her faith. Her belief that the world was kinder than it truly was. how naive she is, how she doesn't have to be burdened by things, how she still gets to see the good in others, how she thinks the world or people are just like her. But how do I explain that nobles doesn't see the ground they walked on fit to carry a commoner not to add having a complete commoner and murderer in a place of power
She had never seen the punishments. Never heard the words meant to break me. I knew she was always kept in the dark when I'm being severely punished by the count and countess. That's why she thinks they probably just only slap me or something.
That's why she doesn't know how nobles viewed commoners.
I wished, more than anything, that I could borrow her innocence.
That I had it, that I was that way.
But I could not. And I am not
"I'll try," I said with a smile. "I really will." I know it would please her so I said it even though it's a lie and I believe otherwise
She beamed, satisfied. As if she has accomplished what she came to do
She stayed a while longer, filling the room with stories of her imagined future, her husband, her children, her happiness. I listened, chiming in when needed, letting her joy fill the spaces mine could not.
Then she paused.
"Oh! I nearly forgot," she said. "Your wedding is in two days."
Two days.
My chest tightened painfully.
"But… my gown" I began.
"Already handled," she assured me. "The seamstress will come tomorrow for final adjustments."
I nodded, pretending to be calm. Trying to seem enthusiastic about my marriage when my mind is already in a turmoil after she made that statement a knot sank down my chest
It was not the dress I feared.
It was everything after.
A knock interrupted us.
"Who is it?" I asked.
"My lady," a maid said gently. "The Countess requests your presence."
My stomach sank.
"I will come," I replied.
And just like that, the weight returned.