Upon entering the imposing entrance hall of the Valentinov mansion, Cielle had to take a deep breath to calm herself. The place was dazzling, dominated by two intertwining staircases like dancers in a ball, and a chandelier that radiated stunning beauty, illuminating the environment with a soft glow.
Ahead, an elderly gentleman with a well-groomed white beard and elegantly dressed awaited her. Beside him, two servants stood discreetly, and between them, an ornate upholstered chair seemed to invite her to sit. The three maids who had accompanied her thus far remained silent, a step behind her.
As Cielle approached, she felt increasingly smaller in the grandeur of the mansion.
"Miss," the butler greeted with a gentle yet authoritative voice, "please, take a seat here."
Cielle took two more steps, still hesitant. Sitting down, she felt the weight of fatigue on her shoulders. It wasn’t long before a servant approached with a glass of fresh water, brought on a tray from the kitchen.
“Drink, miss, you must be tired.”
She accepted the water with a nod of thanks and a soft murmur: "Thank you."
“And how do you feel, miss?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Thank you.”
As she drank, Cielle couldn't help but marvel at the opulence around her. "It’s all so... impressive," she commented, more to herself than to those present.
The butler smiled discreetly. "This mansion has that effect on people. I hope you find comfort and peace here, Miss Castillo."
Cielle returned the empty glass, still trying to absorb the reality that this mansion would be her new home. "I hope so," she said, her voice laden with a mix of hope and uncertainty.
"That’s good. My name is Stewart, miss. I am the butler of the house and am here to serve you. On behalf of everyone, you are very welcome."
Everyone bowed. This startled her. She had never seen anything like it, never been treated this way. She could even feel her eyes welling up. She hadn’t expected any of this.
The butler made a subtle gesture to the servants. "Allow me to show you to your quarters, miss. I'm sure you wish to rest after your journey."
Cielle nodded, rising from the chair. As she followed the butler up the staircases, she cast one last look at the hall, a space that now marked the beginning of a new chapter in her life.
As she walked through the expansive corridors of the Valentinov mansion, Cielle observed through the windows that many people were working outside. It was evident that the house was undergoing renovations, a sign of the constant pursuit of perfection in that grand residence.
When they finally reached her room and the maids opened the doors, Cielle was struck with awe. The room was vast, significantly larger than her previous one, and the bed seemed big enough to get lost in. Everything was meticulously cared for, and the air was scented with a soft and inviting aroma. Standing in the center of the room, Cielle felt small in the magnitude of her new living quarters.
"Miss, allow me to take your things," Stewart offered, approaching.
Cielle, still absorbed in the contemplation of the room, did not respond. The maids gently took her shoes and bag, and one of them said, "I'll have these cleaned and brought back to you, miss."
Cielle, coming out of her reverence, nodded gratefully.
Now alone with the butler, Cielle heard Stewart’s question. "Miss, when will the rest of your belongings arrive?"
"My belongings?" Cielle repeated, confused.
"Yes," said Stewart kindly. "A car must be bringing the rest of your things, correct?"
"Oh, actually, I’ve brought everything with me," Cielle explained, her voice gentle.
For a moment, Stewart maintained a polite smile, assuming Cielle was joking. But, realizing she was serious, his smile gradually faded.
"How, miss?" he asked, the surprise evident in his voice. The idea that his employer's future wife had so few possessions was something he clearly had not anticipated. Stewart looked at the small bag the maids had taken and, for the first time, began to realize that the story of Cielle Castillo might be much more complex and surprising than he had imagined.
As Rafaell Valentinov was immersed in his documents, signing and scrutinizing each paper with attention and severity, Isaac, the young employee, remained by his side, watching him with a slightly apprehensive expression.
"Haven't we received any response from the duke yet?" Rafaell asked, without diverting his gaze from the papers.
"Not yet, sir," Isaac responded, hesitantly.
Rafaell, noticing Isaac's cautious tone, looked up. "What is it?"
"If I may, sir," Isaac began, "perhaps it's not so bad that we haven't had a response. The expenses for Miss Castillo's debts and lands, plus the dowry, were immense. Maybe sir shouldn't think about spending more anytime soon. It was a significant portion of your funds."
Rafaell leaned back in his chair, reflecting on Isaac's words. "I am aware of that," he said calmly. "I was conscious of the value this decision would imply. But it's natural to take risks."
"But the risks are enormous, sir," Isaac insisted. "There's no guarantee that Miss Castillo's lands will appreciate one day. All this could be like investing in a cemetery."
Rafaell laughed, a light chuckle that didn’t hide his confidence. "Even one day we'll need a cemetery, Isaac."
"Sir..." Isaac began, worried.
Rafaell then adopted a more serious expression. "Don't worry, Isaac," he said firmly. "I believe Cielle Castillo will be my greatest investment."
At that moment, it became clear that, for Rafaell, the decisions he had made were not just financial transactions. There was something more in that choice, something perhaps not even he could fully explain. It was a bet on the future, and Rafaell was willing to see where it would take him.
Two knocks on the door. Stewart's appearance in the office with a look of confusion caught Rafaell's attention, who immediately sensed that something was unusual.
"Alright, tell me what you've found out, Stewart," Rafaell requested, his curiosity piqued.
"Miss has arrived alone, apparently," Stewart reported.
"That I saw with my own eyes. What else?" Rafaell pressed.
"She arrived with just a handbag and the clothes she's wearing. Nothing more," Stewart revealed.
"Nothing more?" Rafaell repeated, clearly intrigued. "What does that mean?"
"Well, according to Miss, there's nothing else to come. She's brought all her belongings, sir."
Rafaell was thoughtful, pondering the meaning of this situation. Is she trying to appear simple? He wondered. I know she's from a prestigious family, grew up in luxury, just like me.
"What are you thinking about, sir?" Stewart interrupted his thoughts.
"It's nothing," Rafaell replied, standing up. "Stewart, ensure she has everything she needs." He turned to Isaac. "My schedule is filled, right?"
"Yes, sir. You have a visit to the factory," Isaac confirmed.
Stewart didn't seem satisfied with that answer. "But, sir, aren't you going to talk to her? There's something wrong, I feel. The maids told me she walked alone from the station here! Her feet are even injured."
Rafaell paused at the door of his office, absorbing the information. After a moment of reflection, he decided. "Take care of her, Stewart. I'll be back at dusk."
With those words, Rafaell left the office with Isaac, leaving Stewart behind.
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