Surrounded by meticulously cared for trees and a vibrant garden filled with lush flowers, stood an imposing gothic-style house. Its grandeur was preserved through time, a relic of elegance and history.
Inside this magnificent residence, Rafaell Valentinov walked through the extensive corridors. His appearance was the embodiment of sophistication - hair slicked back, face impeccably clean, and attire that exuded elegance. He was followed by two servants: the young Isaac, always alert and diligent, and Stewart, the older butler, whose wise appearance and calm demeanor revealed years of dedicated service.
“You have a meeting with Engineer Thomas at two o’clock,” Isaac informed. “And later an appointment with Madame Quinn and her niece, Rose.”
“We need to refurbish the greenhouse, sir,” Stewart intervened, with a tone suggesting he had already taken some initiatives. “I’ve contacted Architect Johnson. And about the annex... it’s a great space to utilize. For dinner, I suggest a seafood risotto, we have an excellent wine from BlackWood.”
Rafaell, lost in thought, walked without responding. Stewart, noticing the silence, added, “Ah, of course. Your future bride is due to arrive tomorrow.”
This mention made Rafaell stop abruptly. He turned to Stewart, visibly distressed. “And you remind me of this only now?”
Stewart shrugged, a gesture mixing resignation and pragmatism.
They entered Rafaell’s office, a space filled with rustic wood and shelves brimming with books. Rafaell sat behind his desk, immersed in thoughts. Isaac and Stewart stood in front of him, waiting for instructions or some indication of his next actions.
The office, with its atmosphere of ancient wisdom and important decisions, seemed to close around Rafaell, reflecting the weight of the responsibilities resting on his shoulders.
Rafaell Valentinov, leaning his torso on the desk and resting his chin on his hands, appeared lost in thought. His two servants, Isaac and Stewart, watched attentively, waiting for instructions.
"This would be the moment for you to share your thoughts, sir," Stewart commented, breaking the silence.
"I am thinking, Stewart," Rafaell replied, his mind clearly elsewhere. After a brief pause, he snapped his fingers as if an idea had just come to him. "Hire three maids, just for her. Set aside the largest room in the house, she will probably bring many things. Prepare trunks and dressers for clothes, shoes, and bags. Ensure the staff are ready to assist. And ask the kitchen to prepare a variety of sweets and savories; we don't know her preferences, but being from a wealthy family, she probably enjoys refined things. Ah, and decorate her room with the finest curtains and flowers in vases."
Stewart watched his employer with a proud look, which did not go unnoticed by Rafaell.
"What is it?" Rafaell asked, noticing the butler's gaze.
"I've already prepared all of that, sir," Stewart replied with a smile. "You needn't worry."
Rafaell furrowed his brow, somewhat frustrated. "Then why did you let me think all of that?"
"I believe you forgot the most important part, sir," Stewart added.
Curious, Rafaell leaned forward. "And what might that be?"
"Your presence," said Stewart. "You should make sure to be here to receive her."
Rafaell lowered his gaze, reflecting on the suggestion. "Isaac, what is my schedule like for tomorrow?"
"Actually, sir, your schedule for tomorrow is quite flexible," Isaac informed.
Rafaell raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Is that so?"
Isaac and Stewart exchanged a knowing look and smiled.
"It seems I have no excuses," Rafaell murmured, standing up from the desk. "It appears everything is aligning for tomorrow. Let's ensure she is well received."
With those words, Rafaell left the office, leaving behind two satisfied employees who had anticipated their employer's needs and ensured that he would be present for such a crucial moment.
In the quiet of the early morning, Cielle woke up with sunken eyes, marked by hours of turbulent thoughts. Determined to leave behind the mansion she once called home, she rose, feeling the weight of each movement.
With meticulous care, Cielle gathered her few belongings. Three sets of clothes were chosen: the outfit on her body, a skirt and coat set, and two dresses - reminders of her mother. Among the folded fabrics, she tucked away a precious photo, a portrait of a once happy family, where only her father's face was blurred, as if erased by memory itself.
Wearing her only pair of heels, Cielle felt the strange sensation of stepping onto a new, uncertain, and frightening path. Into a small cloth bag, she placed three books, her clothes, and some hair clips. It was all she would take to this new phase of her life.
At the gate, Abby was waiting for her. The maid, more than a mere employee, had been a beacon of love and support for Cielle during dark times.
“Lady Cielle, what are we going to do?” Abby cried. Cielle smiled at her.
“Don’t call me lady. I am not one. Thank you for everything, Abby. One day, I will come back for you. No matter what. I promise," Cielle said, her voice choked with emotion.
Abby, still with tears in her eyes, nodded silently, unable to express the sadness and pride she felt.
Thus, under the shadow of the dawn that was beginning to emerge, Cielle crossed the gate of the Castillo mansion. With each step, she carried the memories of happy days spent there - the echoes of laughter with her mother, the games with her father before his image became blurred in her life. Now, these memories fueled her journey ahead, a path towards the unknown, towards a destiny she had to face, whatever the cost.
Walking along the extensive stone path, Cielle clutched the letter containing the only address she needed to find in the WildPetal region. The journey there had been long and exhausting, starting with a passage through the city, a tram ride to a train station, and finally, on foot, in this secluded and enchanting place.
The path seemed endless, surrounded by an orchestra of trees whispering stories to the wind. "It’s so beautiful here," Cielle murmured to herself, trying to distract from her exhaustion. The beauty of the place brought a sense of peace, a welcome respite from the emotional turmoil that accompanied her. The singing of birds and the view of the clear sky were a balm to her tormented soul, though the scorching sun made her sweat and her feet ache incessantly.
But eventually, the physical pain surpassed her threshold of endurance. Cielle stopped in the middle of the road, exhausted, and removed her heels. Looking at her bruised feet, now bleeding at the back, she felt a wave of despondency. Wetting her parched lips, she realized how thirsty she was.
"It seems I’ll never get there..." she thought aloud, a hint of frustration in her voice. "Am I walking slowly on purpose?" She questioned herself, lost in thought. "I wonder, what will become of me in this place?"
These questions echoed in her mind as she looked at the road still ahead. Despite everything, Cielle knew she had no choice but to continue. The uncertainty of what awaited her at the Valentinovs’ house and the fate that would bind her to Rafaell was both frightening and intriguing. With a sigh, she put her shoes back on, determined to complete the last stretch of her journey, regardless of what the future held.
The three maids, lined up in front of the grand gate of the Valentinov mansion, fidgeted under the merciless sun. Demira, the youngest and most impatient, couldn’t contain her frustration. "How long must we stay here? We've been almost three hours!"
"Keep your voice down!" reprimanded Nancy, the tallest and with an authoritative posture. "Do you want to be sent away on your first day?"
Selina, with a high-pitched voice that betrayed her nervousness, expressed a darker concern. "What if something happened to her? The butler Stewart said she would arrive early. What if there was an accident?"
"None of that!" exclaimed Nancy, trying to maintain order. "Don't talk like that. Let's stay alert. She should arrive at any moment."
The three maids positioned themselves in height order, their gazes fixed on the road. When a car finally appeared, a glimmer of hope shone on their faces, but it quickly faded as the vehicle passed by the gate without stopping.
"Where is she?" murmured Nancy, more to herself than to the others.
Then, a soft voice interrupted their speculation. "Hello? Excuse me?"
The three turned simultaneously, surprised. Before them stood Cielle, a timid and somewhat pale figure, who watched them cautiously.
"Yes, how can we help you?" Nancy was the first to recover and respond.
Cielle, still a bit unsure, asked, "Is this the residence of... Rafaell Valentinov?" Her gaze was restless, shifting between the maids and the imposing mansion ahead.
"Yes, this is Mr. Rafaell's residence," Selina responded promptly, forgetting any formality.
A discreet nudge from Demira silenced her, but Cielle seemed not to notice, still absorbed by the grandeur of the house that rose before her.
"Who are you?" asked Demira, curious.
Cielle turned her attention back to the maids, offering a faint smile. "Oh, yes. My name is Cielle. Cielle Castillo."
At that moment, a wave of understanding and surprise swept through the trio. They exchanged glances, realizing that the young woman before them was their employer's future bride.
The three maids exchanged looks of disbelief and concern as they observed Cielle. The sight of the young woman - barefoot, holding shoes in one hand and a small bag in the other, wearing clothes that seemed out of place in time - was not what they had expected.
"Miss Cielle?" Nancy repeated, still surprised. With a nod, Cielle confirmed her identity. "Please come in, we’ve been waiting for you," said Nancy, trying to regain her composure.
"You were waiting for me? How kind. Thank you," Cielle responded, passing by them timidly after putting on her shoes.
Selina and Demira exchanged worried glances at the sight of Cielle’s dirty and injured feet. As Cielle walked down the pathway between lush gardens and small ponds, their expressions showed admiration and surprise. The place was splendid, surpassing any expectations she might have had.
"Miss, miss! Let me carry your bag," Selina offered, hurrying to catch up with her.
"It’s alright, it’s not heavy," Cielle replied, smiling but clearly straining to walk. Selina noticed the bleeding on Cielle’s feet and gestured frantically to Nancy and Demira.
Nancy quickly approached. "Miss, you may take off your shoes if you like."
"Wouldn’t that be rude?" asked Cielle, still smiling.
"But, miss. Aren’t you in pain?" inquired Demira.
"A little," admitted Cielle. "I didn’t realize the station was so far from here."
"You walked from the station to here in those shoes?!" exclaimed Selina, surprised, receiving an elbow nudge from Nancy for her lack of discretion.
Cielle smiled, realizing her situation was causing discomfort for the maids. "Should I take off my shoes, then?"
She removed her heels and began to walk more comfortably. Selina offered to carry them, but Cielle politely declined. "It’s okay. I can carry them."
The three maids exchanged looks again, watching Cielle as she made her way towards the mansion.
From his privileged position, Rafaell Valentinov attentively observed the scene unfolding in the gardens below. His arms were crossed, a posture reflecting the seriousness with which he regarded the moment.
"Stewart?" he called, without taking his eyes off Cielle, who walked with a mix of dignity and discomfort towards the mansion.
"Yes, sir?" Stewart responded, approaching Rafaell.
"Go welcome her," instructed Rafaell, his voice firm. Despite the seriousness, there was a trace of curiosity in his tone. He was about to meet the woman who, by unusual circumstances of fate, would become his wife.
Stewart nodded and hurried to follow his employer's orders. While he went to receive Cielle, Rafaell remained still, watching the scene. Though his face maintained an impassive expression, his thoughts were tumultuous with questions and possibilities about what lay ahead.
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