Chapter 6

“Papa, you must stop reading my letters.” Cosette crossed her arms over her chest, even though her heart fluttered with anticipation to find somewhere private to read Lord Covaci’s reply. “Did I not threaten to never speak to you again?”

“You did, my dear.” Her father chuckled. “But this one came with a gift. I simply could not keep my curiosity in check. Your future mate is a master craftsman.”

“Papa,” she warned, holding out her hand. Finally, her father sighed and placed a small box in her hand. It weighed very little, and she was dying to know what lay inside.

With a twitching mouth as if trying not to smile, her father made an exit from the drawing room. Unable to wait any longer, she climbed onto the window seat and tucked her legs beneath her. Taking a deep breath, she first read the letter, not able to stop the smile from pulling up on her lips. He had been nervous to be around her as well? His admission made her feel considerably better for her own petrifying anxiety, if only slightly.

Her stomach churned when her attention turned to the engagement gift. With hesitant fingers, she opened the box to find a delicate poppy wooden carving.

The warm gesture brought tears to her eyes. All her life, she had always walked in the shadows. People overlooked her because she was quiet, and she avoided people because she was horribly timid.

But Lord Covaci… He was different. He noticed her. He listened. And for a moment, she dared to think he might care for her to some degree.

She gingerly took the poppy carving out of the box and lightly brushed her fingers over the wood. The carving was beautiful. It almost looked real with its thin petals, and she thought she would be able to smell its grape-like fragrance if she pressed her nose to it. It didn’t smell of poppies—it smelled of him. Of Lord Covaci. Of wood carvings and daylight and warmth.

She jumped when a servant poked his head into the room. “Lady Dragomir, your presence is requested in the courtyard,” he said stiffly.

Shrinking into herself, she nodded, and only when the servant left did she stand and place the poppy on top of her pianoforte within view. At least until the ceremony. It didn’t deserve to be hidden away with her treasures. It belonged to be out in the open where it could constantly serve as a gentle reminder of his kindness.

Cosette took her sweet time making her way through the vast hallways of the castle. Laughter and ruckus greeted her when she turned the corner, as if the entire Dragomir family had decided to join.

However, as she entered the courtyard, she froze mid-step. This was no simple family gathering. A blend of black hair and violet eyes, and blond hair and blue eyes dotted the courtyard.

Covacis.

Her breath hitched, and she ducked behind a pillar to hide herself, her heart hammering against her ribcage. What was this social gathering about? Did everyone know about the engagement? Did Lord Covaci know?

She quickly shook her head and reminded herself to breathe. There were more than just Covacis in attendance. Besides, no one looked her way. If she could just slip away unnoticed…

“There you are.” Her father stepped directly in her path of escape. He lowered his voice, though his conspiratory smile never disappeared. “I spot Lord Covaci by the fountain with Lady Laurel Degore. Perhaps you can make his acquaintance before the ceremony.”

The thought petrified her.

“Papa, no!” she hissed.

“He won’t know it’s you. Besides, I think this will be beneficial for you. You’ve been so skittish that I’ve been afraid you might back out of the ceremony before it’s time. If you just meet him…”

“No!” she hissed again, her wide eyes filled with fear. Surely, her tongue would stop working, and she wouldn’t even be able to utter a single sentence. He would decide he didn’t want to be her mate before the ceremony, and she would lose her only chance at being with him.

Tears started welling in her eyes—it seemed her emotions weren’t done with her yet.

Reminding herself of all her many shortcomings spiraled her into her own pit of depression. It wouldn’t be fair of her to go through with the ceremony with Lord Covaci. He wouldn’t want her. He would regret it.

“I’m sorry!” She gasped as she spun on her heel, and before her father could call after her, she fled upstairs to her room and slammed the door behind her. Lord Covaci deserved so much better than her, and she regrated that she must back out, no matter how much it pained her to do so. There would be no ceremony. Not in four days. Not ever.