Meanwhile, several blocks down stood the De Costa manor of natural earthen stone and rustic blood-orange tiles. It was hard not to spot the Aswánian influence in its architecture.

From the uniquely white pebbled fountain to the wide windowpane that allowed as much natural light into the mansion as possible gave the De Costa manor a welcoming feeling.

Adversely, the size of the estate was imposing as if it could block out the sun giving the residence an ominous atmosphere.

         It was Katarina De Costa who felt anxiety rise as the hair on the back of her neck stood on end out of nowhere. Her hand swiftly reached her nape looking pensively around her surroundings. A shiver rolled down her spine for a brief second.

Katarina walked slowly toward the mirror as she slid on a façade without any cracks. Her eyes were lit with faux excitement and childish wonder. Bashful like any other young lady.

Forcibly pushing the stray thoughts in the back of her mind as a feeling of innocence covered her sullen features.

         Katarina’s body involuntarily twirled on its own trying to match her finely tuned mask. Her eyes dragged back toward her reflection as a smile of an exciting sweet maiden was shown. Eyes twinkling, complexion dewy with emotions of finally meeting the man of her dreams.

The thoughts abruptly faltered as the mask slowly faded away. Her sweet smile receded and was replaced by a sceptical scowl. Her emotions were a torrent within her eyes. Eyeing the beige colour dress that wrapped around her bodes as the skirt gently settled around her.

         Marriage of the century. The words popped into her mind. A low and sullen chuckle escaped her lips. In the past few outings, a constant feeling of being watched unnerved her. As hushed conversations paused when she would enter a room. Katarina strained her eyes, finding the humour in people’s lack of discretion. 

Slowly flicking her head to the side as her eyes traced the curves of her pinned updo. A few strands managed to fall astray resting neatly on her shoulder. Tugging at the corners of her lips, Katarina tried her best to appear lively but her eyes were dull— she imagined the enviable stares and words masked by feigned smiles and small conversation.

         The longer she stood in the mirror the quicker her ignorance was waning. The unease never settled. The rumours of her betrothal to the Grand Duke were unfounded, but that didn’t obstruct the murmurs of the capital to encroach on the De Costa manor. The tremble in Katarina’s shoulders was barely visible but it racked the entirety of her thoughts. As a faint smell accosted her senses, her muscles seized on contact. 

Gardenias. 

Bile traversed up the column of her throat. The image of intrusive eyes directed at her as the whole of Vicon nobility analysed her every move. 

To be the next Grand Duchess. The most likely candidate for Queen. Katarina found herself hearing passing comments on a daily basis. The public is ever-watching and labelling her as they, please. Her breath quickened in her chest. The walls slowly drew closer with each breath as she tried to calm herself but to no avail. It was only until a heavy-handed knock on her door that jolted Katarina out of her self-imposed stupor.

         Knock-Knock-Knock

         Katarina’s pupils shrank. Her breath caught in her throat. Her lungs seared in pain.

         “Breathe.” Her mind demanded. 

         Another round of knocks sounded. “Inhale for three seconds. Exhale for four.” She squeezed her eyes shut as her index nail found her thumb. The sharp pain eased the anxiety. Forcing the thoughts to fall away. Similar to tucking a piece of parchment away, to be left and eventually forgotten. The pain was enough for Katarina to hiss. Leaving a crescent-shaped impression behind in its wake.

Katarina moved her fingers in slow and methodical motions as she willed her body to listen to her mind. Her heels clicked against the wooden floor. Another knock reverberated through the room. A moment of hesitation passed as Katarina settled in an earthy brown chaise that overlooked her powders and jewellery. A silver foxtail was embossed on the lid of her jewellery box. She traced the intricate filigree with her finger.

         “Come in.” She hoped her voice did not sound doused with worry. Folding her hands across her lap. Her breath steadied as a light smile clicked into place.

         “Rinni.” The gentle smile of her broad-shouldered father didn’t stop her stomach from lurching forward. A sick sinking feeling she managed to subdue rose against her better judgement. Her fingers began to shake uncontrollably, and without hesitation, her nail bit into her thumb.

         “Rinni.” Marquis De Costa’s eyes reflected her own. Pools of caramel swayed with each emotion. Filled with protectiveness, adoration and a hint of worry. Katarina’s chest squeezed as her eyebrows pulled together, noticing the subtle apprehension on her father’s face. The silence that settled between them suffocated Katarina.

“Darling—” The Marquis’ voice trailed off. In opposition to her father’s usual stern expression, his words tumbled out of his mouth in a noticeable quiver. Taking in Katarina’s squared shoulders and gentle smile. Guilt tugged at his mind, and his large stride crossed the floor before settling in front of her.

         His large body loomed over her, casting a shadow on her body. Katarina’s eyes shook by the sudden proximity of someone else. Her breath hitched in her chest She was afraid, but it was her father’s weariness in his eyes that pierced through the cloud of her anxiety.

         “Inhale for three seconds. Exhale for four.” She reminded herself. 

         “Father.” She gazed at his trembling irises. Waiting for him to reign in a semblance of control over his emotions. Anger. Frustration and Hopelessness could be found in his apprehensive stare. But mostly hopelessness. Her breath came out hot as she waited for him to continue she felt the thumping of her heart in her ears.

         “Darling. I—” He stammered. His eyes darted around the room as if his courage waned, not daring to look in her eyes. It was not a surprise in the slightest to Katarina, given the circulating rumours. The Marquis’ shoulders slumped forward in defeat as the guilt ate at him. The secret engagement with Grand Duke Devoncourt without mentioning it to the person in question.

         “I didn’t—” He faltered. Katarina wanted so much to take her father’s state of weakness to beat her chest and tell him she did not want to marry. The unsavoury history of the Grand Duke was less than desirable, but the veil of the royal succession casting over the capital was something the Marquis couldn’t ignore. Contention was bound to ripple through the houses that possessed a young maiden of marriageable age.

         It was no revelation that Katarina’s name was amongst the names that were whispered behind closed doors. The eyes of the public gleamed with anticipation and envy at the thought of De Costa sitting on the throne. The most eligible choice for Vicon’s future Queen.

So when gossip broke of Arsenio’s intention of joining houses with the Devoncourts was unprecedented. Unthinkable in all honesty; those who knew Arsenio well could understand the steps he took to neutralize the De Costa’s influence over the royal succession; others simply thought the Marquis daft. 

         “The succession—” He started but was stopped by Katarina clearing her throat. The sound was barely audible but it caught the Marquis’ ears. She tentatively raised her hand reaching out toward her father. The Marquis without hesitation brought his arms up and enclosed Katarina in a warm embrace.

         Her body was suspended in the air as she went rigid. Felt her stomach churn by the sudden contact. Realising her body was no longer in her control a lump formed in her throat as the action to breathe became challenging. Her arms were lead bound but trembled uncontrollably. Katarina shut her eyes denying the need to shove her father away. 

He’s touching me. It’s Dirty! Her body screamed to run as her mind forced her to stay still. Inhale for three seconds. Exhale for four. With a few deep breaths, she finally relaxed in his arms. Not noticing the digression, the Marquis’s steps were light as he sat on a long red couch that was not used for anything more than aesthetic. Katarina practised a light smile against her father’s wide chest. The familiar smell of cigar and vanilla lingered between them.

         “It’s your Father. It’s Arsenio Rodrigo De Costa.” Katarina repeatedly forced her nerves to calm down. With each inhale the residue of charred cigar filled Katarina’s nose before an intense smell of vanilla attacked her senses and slowly the trembling ceased. Reaching to outline the silver foxtail pin that rests on her father’s collar. When all else fails her mind didn’t go against her.

         “You are Katarina Adaline De Costa.” A mantra she frequently muttered to herself. “Relax.”  

         “If there was another way I wouldn't consider the Grand Duke.” The Marquis growled, breaking her thoughts and thrusting her back into reality. The rumours of Katarina’s prospective engagement made their rounds and finally laid bare on their doorstep. Her father’s low voice rumbled against Katarina’s ear. The finality of his words was enough to feel as if something in her chest was withering away.