Episode 3
1437 Words
The Thompson Mansion
Hyacinth sat on the fence, wondering where the voice had come from. She looked down and spotted a tall, handsome man. He had long, dark hair that reached his shoulders, striking green eyes that seemed to have lost their sparkle, a perfectly chiseled jawline, and deep dimples on both cheeks. His shoulders were broad, and he stood with the ease of someone used to being admired.
My God... am I in heaven? Who is this god? Hyacinth thought to herself.
“My God—an angel!” Patricia shouted before quickly covering her mouth with her hands.
“And who might you be?” Hyacinth asked, frowning at the stranger.
“I should be the one asking that. What business have you here—or did you come to steal?” he replied coolly.
He knew one of them had to be his wife, and he hoped it was the redhead. Her full, wavy hair caught the sunlight, and even perched on a fence, she looked like a diamond. Golden skin, almond-shaped grey eyes, long, slender legs... Ah, and full breasts too, no doubt.
“What?! You question my integrity? I am hurt.” Hyacinth jumped down from the fence and stormed toward him.
“Whoa, whoa—easy,” he said, raising his hands. “I’m Edger Thompson, owner of this estate. Care to introduce yourselves?” he added with a grin.
Patricia, still on the fence, jumped down and joined them.
“Good day, Your Grace. We’re so sorry to be caught in such a manner. My lady is actually… ehm...” Patricia stuttered.
Hyacinth’s expression froze as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Why? Cat got your tongue? And you, my lady, must be Hyacinth—my darling wife,” Edger said, stepping closer.
Hyacinth instinctively stepped back. He kept approaching until her back met the stone fence.
“Ehrm… Your Grace, I would like to apologize for—” Patricia began.
But Hyacinth suddenly bent low and darted left, sprinting toward the gate.
Oh my God, that was embarrassing. I never imagined he’d be so handsome... and young, she thought, still running.
“My lady—wait! Why are you running?!” Patricia shouted, chasing after her.
“Well, that was intriguing. She’s a weird one,” Edger murmured, raising his eyebrows with a grin.
Hyacinth paced the room relentlessly.
“Now we need a new escape plan,” she blurted.
“Do you still want to run away after seeing such beauty? Maybe we should stay,” Patricia giggled.
Hyacinth shot her a daggered glare and then looked away, stepping quietly to the door to check for eavesdroppers.
“New plan. How about... we don’t run away?”
“Finally!”
“We should take advantage of this instead. Since he’s a duke, I can use my status as duchess to get back my father’s properties from my uncle and his scheming wife.” She clapped her hands in glee.
“But you haven’t been introduced to the Queen yet. You’re not officially the duchess,” Patricia pointed out.
“Well, it’s only a matter of time. We’re married now—I am the duchess. When is the next ball?” She strode to the wardrobe as if the answer were hidden inside.
She flung the doors open and began rummaging.
“Ladies…” Edger’s voice came from the doorway.
He stepped into the room.
“There will be a ball tonight at the palace. Organized by the Queen herself. You’ll be introduced and officially announced as the Duchess of Hemsworth. Once the world knows who you are, running away becomes... less of an option.”
He walked toward her slowly.
“So if you still plan on escaping, now’s the time.” He smirked.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close, eyes locked on hers. His face inched forward.
Hyacinth’s cheeks turned crimson. She glanced down at his chest—broad and firm, like the fence she’d been about to scale earlier. There was something about his presence that left her speechless.
He leaned close and whispered against her ear, “My darling duchess…”
Then he breathed in deeply, savoring her lavender scent.
He pulled back.
“Get dressed. We leave in an hour.”
He walked out, and Hyacinth clutched the pearls at her neck.
“My God, you’re all red. Someone’s in love,” Patricia teased.
“I am not in love. I still plan on running away,” Hyacinth snapped.
Hyacinth had never been to the Queen’s palace. In truth, she hadn’t been beyond the mansion walls since her parents died. They had loved the sea and sailed every summer. The one time they went without her... they never returned. A shipwreck with no survivors. Since then, she had found strange comfort in solitude.
“This is magnificent. Thank you, my lady—sorry, I mean Your Grace—for bringing me to such an event,” Patricia said, playfully bowing.
“So dramatic. We haven’t even gotten in yet. And where is my so-called husband?” Hyacinth asked, scanning the crowd.
“Your so-called husband is here.” Edger appeared beside her. “You take every opportunity to call me names, don’t you?”
He extended his arm, and she took it.
They entered the ballroom, a grand space glowing with lights and ornate portraits. The theme of the evening seemed to be “art,” judging by the decor. It was beautiful—but she had imagined better.
“Here comes the Queen!”
A voice from the shadows announced.
The Queen descended the stairs, waving to some invisible audience. Applause broke out around the room.
“We are gathered here today to celebrate yet another reign of the royal family and the fruitfulness of our nation,” the Queen declared, raising her glass.
“Cheers,” the guests murmured in return.
“And everyone—” she continued, pausing dramatically. “I would like you all to welcome the newest Duchess in Hemsworth—Her Grace, Hyacinth Thompson, wife of Duke Edger Thompson!”
The crowd murmured.
“I would appreciate a round of applause,” the Queen added, beginning to clap.
The rest of the ballroom followed.
“Seems like they’re shocked you got married—or shocked by my existence,” Hyacinth whispered to Edger.
“I’ve rejected many proposals. Swore never to marry. Took them by surprise, I suppose,” Edger replied, smiling at the crowd as they passed.
“Can I have this dance, Your Grace?” Edger asked, bowing and offering his hand.
She accepted, and he led her to the dance floor.
“So why marry me, then?” Hyacinth asked, her voice full of curiosity.
“Well... I was threatened by my mother,” he said with a half-smile. “And I need to secure my position as Duke—and owner of everything Thompson.”
“Ah. But why my family? My uncle is one of the least reputable men in Hemsworth. Infamous for God knows what crimes.”
“We should talk about that another time. Not here. Not now.”
“But I—”
“Shhh.” He placed a kiss on her forehead and pulled her close. Her chest pressed against his, and he felt a strange tightening in his own—like his heart was trying to escape his ribs. He pulled back, steadying himself.
“You’re quite the dancer,” he said with a bow.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to speak with an old friend. Come, let me introduce you.”
He took her arm and led her across the room.
“Peter, my friend—meet my wife, Hyacinth.”
“Hyacinth, this is Peter—”
“A pleasure, Your Grace. You are indeed very beautiful,” Peter said, kissing the back of her hand.
“I need to find Patricia. She must be somewhere here. Take your time,” Hyacinth whispered to Edger.
“Excuse me,” she said politely, then turned to leave.
As she walked through the hall, she bumped into a man and stumbled back. He caught her before she hit the ground.
“My God—apologies. I missed a step,” she said, adjusting her gown.
She raised her eyes to him. There was something familiar about his face...
“Hyacinth?” the man asked.
“Yes... that’s my name,” she replied, confused. “Have we met?”
She tilted her head, trying to recognize him.
“It’s me—David.”
- Writer
