The loss of the carrier pigeon weighed heavily on Catherine, and Dahlia could feel the depth of her friend's distress. She knew Catherine harbored feelings for Lord Lucas, and the fear that the pigeon's death might tarnish his opinion of her was gnawing at her. The room, dimly lit by a single flickering candle, seemed to close in around them, the air thick with the scent of lavender and the lingering sorrow of Catherine's tears.
"He won't blame you," Dahlia said quickly, her voice warm and reassuring as she squeezed Catherine's hand. "It's not like you did it on purpose."
"Really?" Catherine's tear-filled golden eyes searched Dahlia's face, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I heard those pigeons are incredibly hard to train."
"Really," Dahlia affirmed, nodding firmly. Her tone turned sharp with indignation. "You didn't kill the pigeon—that despicable brother of yours did. Lord Lucas will understand. He's not the type to hold something like this against you." She leaned closer, her eyes steady, willing Catherine to believe her.
Catherine exhaled a shaky breath, her shoulders sagging with relief. She pressed a hand to her chest, as if to calm her racing heart. "That's good… that's good," She murmured, her voice soft but steadier now.
"Alright, no more crying," Dahlia said gently, cupping Catherine's face in her hands. Her thumbs brushed away the tears glistening on Catherine's cheeks, the warmth of her touch a stark contrast to the cold room. In this moment, Catherine seemed so fragile, so vulnerable—a far cry from the poised, confident daughter of a duke she usually presented to the world. Dahlia's heart ached at the sight. Perhaps only in her presence did Catherine allow this raw, unguarded side of herself to surface, shedding the mask of nobility for the frightened girl beneath.
A loud *gurgle* broke the quiet, and Catherine's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as her stomach betrayed her hunger.
Dahlia raised an eyebrow, a knowing look crossing her face. "Catherine, have you been skipping meals again?" She could guess why the Duke had allowed her to visit—Catherine was likely staging another hunger strike to protest her confinement. It wasn't the first time she'd used this tactic, and Dahlia suspected the Duke was growing weary of it.
Catherine pouted, her voice barely above a whisper. "The food here is awful. It's all so bland and salty—I have no appetite for it." She crossed her arms, her expression defiant despite the faint blush still coloring her cheeks. Her hunger strikes were her way of rebelling, and this time, they'd earned her brother a seven-day confinement—four days longer than his last punishment.
Dahlia's lips twitched into a wry smile. She wasn't surprised. Catherine had grown accustomed to the exquisite cuisine of Sedona City, where every dish was a burst of flavor. The capital's plain, over-salted boiled meat couldn't compare. "What about the fish cans? Did you finish those already?" She asked, already suspecting the answer.
Catherine gave a sheepish nod, her golden eyes darting to the side. "I ate the last one two days ago," She admitted, a hint of guilt in her voice. She wasn't foolish enough to truly starve herself—she'd made sure to have a stash of food before starting her protest. But the fish cans, a taste of Sedona City's delicacies, were gone, leaving her with nothing but the capital's dreary meals.
"I knew it," Dahlia said, rolling her eyes playfully. She gestured to the wooden box she'd brought, her tone softening. "I brought you some meat. It's cooked with the broth and spices from the fish cans—it should taste better than what you've been eating."
Catherine's nose twitched as she caught a faint whiff of the savory aroma. "Is it good?" She asked, her voice tinged with curiosity as she hurried to the box. She opened it carefully, as if unveiling a treasure, and the rich, mouthwatering scent of seasoned meat filled the room.
"It's not quite as good as the fish itself, but it's still delicious," Dahlia said, stepping forward to help her friend. She lifted a plate from the box, revealing tender slices of meat glistening with a glossy sheen, infused with the familiar flavors of Sedona City.
Catherine grabbed a pair of chopsticks and eagerly picked up a piece of meat, popping it into her mouth. She chewed slowly at first, then her golden eyes lit up with delight. Without hesitation, she grabbed another piece, her earlier melancholy momentarily forgotten as the flavors danced on her tongue.
"It's good, isn't it?" Dahlia said with a soft laugh. "The nobles came up with this trick after buying up all the fish cans. They started using the broth as a seasoning to make their meat taste better."
The fish cans Dahlia had brought from Sedona City were in short supply, and the nobles, desperate to stretch the precious flavors, had gotten creative. The result was a dish that, while not as divine as the fish cans themselves, was leagues better than the capital's standard fare.
Catherine's mouth was full, but she managed a muffled, "Why didn't I think of that?" Her expression turned slightly annoyed as she swallowed. "I used all my leftover broth to mix with rice!" She shook her head, clearly regretting her lack of ingenuity.
"Just eat," Dahlia said, chuckling as she poured a cup of water and set it beside Catherine. "There's plenty here."
Catherine nodded eagerly, devouring the meat with enthusiasm. But halfway through her meal, she froze, her chopsticks hovering over the plate. Her eyes fixed on the food, her expression shifting from delight to something heavier, more contemplative.
"Catherine? What's wrong?" Dahlia asked, concern creeping into her voice.
Catherine set her chopsticks down, her movements slow and deliberate. "I should save some for later," She said, forcing a weak smile. Her gaze flickered to Dahlia, and her voice softened. "You're leaving, aren't you?"
Dahlia's breath caught. Catherine wasn't as naive as she sometimes seemed. Beneath her playful demeanor, she was sharp, perceptive. She'd likely guessed from the moment Dahlia arrived that this visit was more than just a friendly check-in. "Yes," Dahlia admitted, nodding. "I'm leaving for Sedona City tomorrow. Would you… would you like to come with me?"
Catherine fell silent, her golden eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions. After a long pause, she shook her head, her expression bitter. "I can't. Father has me under house arrest."
Dahlia's face hardened. "Has the Duke decided who you're to marry?"
"Not yet," Catherine said, her voice quiet as she sighed. "Recently, both the First Prince and the Second Prince have been meeting with Father. They're vying for his support."
"So he hasn't chosen yet?" Dahlia said, a wave of relief washing over her. There was still time, however slim.
Catherine nodded, her face calm but her hands betraying her tension. The veins on the back of her hand stood out as she gripped the edge of the table. "It's only a matter of time. By next summer, I'll know who I'm to marry." Her voice was steady, but her eyes, fixed on the plate of meat, were hollow.
"Catherine…" Dahlia hesitated, searching for the right words. The weight of her friend's situation pressed down on her, heavy as the snow outside.
"What can I do?" Catherine said, setting her chopsticks aside. Her voice was laced with resignation. "Father won't change his mind. I can't keep acting like a spoiled child." She looked down, her golden eyes dull, as if the fight had drained out of her.
"There has to be another way," Dahlia said, her voice tight with frustration. "There *has* to be."
Catherine shook her head, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "Father said if someone more dazzling than a prince comes along, I can marry them instead. But tell me, Dahlia, who could possibly outshine a future king? It's impossible." Her words hung in the air, heavy with despair. A prince destined for the throne was untouchable—unless someone staged a rebellion or a foreign prince of equal stature came forward, neither of which seemed likely.
"What if you escaped?" Dahlia whispered, glancing toward the door to ensure no one was listening. Her eyes gleamed with a spark of defiance.
Catherine's brow furrowed, and she sighed heavily. "I tried. I didn't even make it out of the mansion before the knights dragged me back."
Dahlia's mouth opened, but no words came. She stared at Catherine, her heart sinking at the thought of her friend trapped in this gilded cage, her every move watched, her every hope crushed.
"I've accepted it," Catherine said, her voice barely above a whisper. "My fate was decided long ago. No one can save me." Her eyes were lifeless, as if the vibrant girl Dahlia had known in Sedona City had been snuffed out. Back then, Catherine had dreamed of running away, of breaking free. But reality had stripped her of that courage, leaving her with nothing but the memory of those fleeting moments of freedom.
Dahlia's hands clenched into fists, her mind racing. "What if…" She began, her voice low and hesitant. "What if there was a way to get you out of here? Would you take it?"
Catherine's eyes snapped to Dahlia's, a flicker of hope igniting in their golden depths. "Of course I would," She said, her voice firm and resolute. She leaned forward, her gaze intense, waiting for Dahlia's next words.
"I'll ask Lord Lucas for help," Dahlia said, her face serious. She'd already decided to forgo her share of the profits from this trip to Sedona City if it meant convincing Lucas to intervene. It was a steep price, but Catherine's happiness was worth it.
Catherine's hands tightened, her expression a whirlwind of emotions—fear, hope, doubt. "But… what if Lord Lucas refuses?" She asked, her voice trembling. "And even if he agrees, what if it puts him in danger?" The thought of Lucas risking himself for her sent a pang of guilt through her, yet the possibility of escape was a lifeline she couldn't ignore.
"We'll try," Dahlia said, her voice calm but resolute. "We have to try. Maybe he'll say yes." She reached out, squeezing Catherine's hand. She couldn't bear to watch her friend's spirit wither in this suffocating mansion. If there was even a chance to save her, Dahlia would take it—no matter the cost.
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