As the carriage rattled and bumped its way towards the ball, Isabella found herself awash in a sensation of unease that defied explanation. 

     Across from her, Lydia was peering at her with unnerving focus, no doubt taking note of her uncharacteristic silence and introspection since yesterday's brush with Lewis.

     "Are you all right?" Lydia inquired, a furrow of concern creasing her brow.

     Isabella managed to summon a smile. "Never better," she replied, striving to sound convincing. 

     However, the truth was that seeing Lewis again had rattled her foundations. The way he had looked, the spark of recognition in his eyes – it had unleashed a torrent of emotions and sentiments she'd assumed were as expired and entombed as the previous year's fish.

     It had been six years since their paths had last crossed, and during that time, she had amassed a fortune for herself through the tulip bulb market. Starting small, she sold flowers to the lords and dukes in the vicinity of her countryside home. 

      As the tulip craze bloomed, so too did her venture. She had sold a multitude of tulip bulbs, cashing in on the mania before the market's inevitable implosion just a year prior.

     But Isabella had been canny. She had never been swept up in the hysteria, and as a result, she had emerged unscathed while countless others lost their wealth. And now, with the tulip bubble burst, she had resolved to make a new entrance into Amsterdam society, though not for the purpose of mingling. 

     No, she harbored a different motivation: revenge.

     Revenge against Lewis, the man who had spurned her and left her alone and pregnant with his child. She had hoped that by exposing his wife's affair with his brother, she would shatter the veneer of domestic bliss he had cultivated over the years. She longed for him to suffer as she had.

     When Lydia had divulged her magical prowess to Isabella, skepticism had been her initial reaction. However, when she came face-to-face with Lewis as he emerged from his office building, heading towards the tavern, and realized he didn't recognize her, she had no choice but to admit that Lydia's claims of memory tampering were indeed true.

      Isabella had confided in Lydia about her plans to retaliate against Lewis and had even wheedled her into restoring his memories to make the anguish all the more poignant.

     When Isabella stepped out of the carriage, her heart plummeted like a boulder in a lake, seeing Lewis there, dashing in his best attire, arm in arm with his wife and brother. They all chatted and grinned as if the world's troubles were miles away. 

     As she observed him casually stroll into the ballroom, accompanied by his family, she couldn't shake the feeling that her actions had been as effective as a one-legged man in a sprint.