fiance chapter 2

***

Sophia Hilden had awakened a month ago from a five-month slumber. Five months! It felt more like she had died and been reborn. But hers wasn’t the sleep of the ill. She awoke feeling refreshed and invigorated, her limbs full of energy, her complexion radiant. Knowing her condition was far from what others described as a five-month coma, she couldn’t believe her parents’ tearful words.

“What do you mean, five months have passed? Yesterday was Georgia Centania’s ball.” She spoke as if only a single night had passed.

Her parents, the Count and Countess of Hilden, were too overwhelmed by her recovery to truly listen. They were busy offering prayers of thanks.

Bewildered by their fervent pronouncements, Sophia turned to the window. She vividly remembered shivering in the biting wind, stepping out of the carriage in her long fur gloves. Now, sheer curtains fluttered in a gentle breeze, and lush greenery reigned supreme. A season had changed overnight, yet the lively conversations she’d shared with her friends the previous evening still echoed in her ears.

“Oh, Sophie! You’re awake! This is a miracle! Although the Duke of Silbetao assured us you would awaken, that you would awaken in spring… oh!” The Countess dabbed her tears with a handkerchief, trembling with emotion. Sophia, feeling utterly disoriented, continued to stare out the window.

“I must inform the Duke of Silbetao at once! He has been waiting for your awakening more eagerly than any of us!” With that, the Countess hurried out of the room. Sophia finally turned to her father. “The Duke of Silbetao? Are you referring to Duke Callas Silbetao?”

“Yes, Sophia. He has been a great help while you were asleep. When everyone said you wouldn’t wake, he alone insisted you would awaken in spring. Furthermore, wasn’t it he who brought you home that evening after you collapsed? He said you were with him.”

“Me?” Sophie echoed, dumbfounded.

It was strange. She could recall yesterday’s events with perfect clarity, as if they had just happened. She remembered burying her face in her friend Solid’s mink coat, even the scent of her perfume. Of course, she remembered seeing Duke Silbetao. Amidst the throngs of people, he had stood apart, elegant and beautiful, a perpetual air of ease about him as he conversed with the Emperor. Whenever he idly rotated the bracelet on his wrist or leaned back in his chair, looking down at the crowd, young ladies and older matrons alike would gasp and whisper among themselves. Sophie had been one of them.

When Lady Solid, the only daughter of the Count of Medesia, betrothed to the eldest son of the Marquis of Sandel, had breathed, “Oh, I would wish for nothing more than for him to hold my hand with those beautiful hands,” Sophie had retorted, “Hand-holding is nothing. You can hold hands with anyone during a dance. A kiss, now that would be a wish worth having.” The shriek of “Sophie!” that followed still rang in her ears.

Sophie felt as if that loud, amused call still lingered. The Duke’s face, looking down from the dais, more regal than the Emperor himself, almost like a strange god, still seemed to hover just beyond her reach. Yet her father claimed he had helped her while she slept, and that she had been with him that very evening.

She had been with him… Sophie repeated the words as if they were an incantation.

The last thing she remembered was having a few drinks. It was Solid’s last ball before her wedding, their last night together, so Sophie felt justified in indulging a little. Toasting their fleeting freedom, they’d snuck into a secluded room, hiding amongst the curtains and ball gowns. Solid had excused herself to the restroom and never returned. Leaning against the cool windowpane, slightly tipsy, Sophie had eventually gone looking for her. She’d been thirsty, so she drank some water. Then, feeling hungry, she’d grabbed something to eat along the way. She’d wandered around for a while…

And then, nothing. Had she encountered Duke Silbetao during that lost time? What could have happened that led him to bring her home?

Sophia pictured the Duke’s golden hair, seemingly spun from gold itself, and his languid, cool blue eyes. A burning sensation rose in her throat. She dismissed it as thirst, assuming she hadn’t had water in a while. When she reached for some, her father poured her a glass.

“Do you remember anything from that night, Sophia?”