Chapter5
1123 Words
Hadassah rested by the big bay window in her room and gazed at the sunset. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, yet her heart felt heavy. She had been trying in vain to clear the afternoon away from her mind and Evan from her thoughts, but his intense gray eyes lingered.
When someone knocked at her door, it startled her out of a daydream. Before she could reply, Clara entered, auburn curls swaying with assurance.
"And rude to come in without being invited," Hadassah remarked, eyebrow raised.
Clara shrugged, a sly smile playing on her lips. “We’re sisters, Hadassah. No need to stand on ceremony.”
Hadassah sighed and turned back to the window. “What do you want, Clara?”
Clara crashed onto the chaise lounge in the corner, her green dress swishing around her. “Can’t I just visit my dear sister?”
Hadassah shot her a skeptical glance. “You never ‘just visit.’ Spill it.”
Clara grinned, leaning forward slightly. “Fine. I was also wondering... what’s it like for you out there? The engagement, the alliance, the oh-so-dashing Victor?”
Hadassah tensed; she couldn't believe how Clara delivered it—saccharine, too perfect, too contrived. “What about it?”
Clara tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Oh, nothing. I mean, you’re marrying the Beta. It’s a big deal. You must be thrilled.”
Hadassah gave a wry frown as her fingertips closed around the weave of her dress. “It’s an arrangement, Clara. You know that.”
“An arrangement,” Clara echoed with a dramatic sigh. “How romantic.” She paused, her eyes glinting. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter. Victor is... well, he’s everything a girl could want: strong, loyal, handsome.”
Hadassah turned to look at her, suspicion growing. “What are you getting at, Clara?”
Clara leaned back, playing with a loose curl. “Oh, nothing. I just think you’re lucky; that’s all. Not every girl gets to marry someone like Victor.”
Hadassah studied her sister, noticing how Clara avoided her gaze. “You care about him, don’t you?”
Clara froze for a moment before laughing. “Care about him? Hadassah, please! He’s your fiancé; I’d never—”
“You would,” Hadassah interrupted sharply. “I’ve seen how you look at him, Clara. Just admit it.”
Clara’s expression shifted; her smile faded. For a fleeting moment, her mask slipped and Hadassah saw naivety beneath. “Fine,” Clara said quietly, bitterness tinging her voice. “Yes, I care about him. I always have.”
Hadassah felt guilty but repressed it as anger surged within her. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why let Father arrange this if you—”
“Because I didn’t have a choice!” Clara snapped, her voice rising. “Father doesn’t care about what I want! He doesn’t care about what you want either, Hadassah! We’re just pawns to him.”
Hadassah remained speechless; her rage softened as the implications of Clara’s words weighed upon her. She knew Clara was right: their father had always prioritized the pack’s interests over their happiness.
Clara took a deep breath to regain composure. “But you know what? Victor deserves someone who truly loves him—someone who sees him for who he is.”
Hadassah’s chest tightened. “And you think that’s you?”
Clara shrugged casually again. “Maybe. But it’s not you, is it?”
Hadassah stared at her sister, unsure how to respond.
Clara stood and smoothed her dress. “Think about it, Hadassah. Can you really make him happy? Or are you just doing this because Father told you to?”
Hadassah clenched her fists. “What are you trying to say, Clara?”
“I’m just suggesting that you should wonder whether you are the right person for him,” Clara expressed quietly but with sharpness in her words. “Victor deserves a wife who is not indecisive about him,” et cetera. Don’t you think?”
The words struck Hadassah like a blow; she wanted to speak up but couldn’t.
Clara smiled faintly as if sensing victory. “I’ll leave you to think about it.”
She turned and walked to the door but paused briefly. “Oh, and Hadassah? Just be honest when you think you're not good enough; it's fine to take a step back—no one would blame you.”
With that, Clara left, closing the door behind her.
Hadassah sat frozen by the window; Clara’s words echoed in her mind: Victor is worth more than a wife who's lukewarm toward him.
She was not pleased with the truthfulness of that statement; she did care for Victor but not in the way a wife should love her husband.
Her mind wandered to Evan: his forceful demeanor and how he had rescued her during the rogue attack made her feel alive in a way she never had with Victor. Nevertheless, Evan was uninterested and clearly disinterested in her except on professional grounds.
Hadassah put her face in her palms as frustration surfaced; she felt trapped—trapped by duty and expectations and by conflicting feelings.
A soft knock at the door broke her thoughts.
“Come in,” she said tiredly.
Her mother entered with a stern expression as always: "Ms., how do the two of you get the 'word' out?"
Hadassah sighed. “She came in here to stir trouble, Mother! I didn’t argue with her—she argued with me!”
Lila’s eyes narrowed: "Clara said you accused me of interfering—not more than what she..."
Hadassah stood; frustration boiled over inside her. “That’s because she is interfering! She’s trying to make me doubt myself!”
Lila frowned; expression unreadable now: "Naomi... Clara is young and impulsive! Don’t let her words get to you! Your devotion to Victor is crucial for our family."
Hadassah clenched her jaw tightly: "What about my future? Don’t I get a say in that?"
Lila's gaze softened slightly but remained firm: "You’re doing what’s best for the pack; that’s what matters."
Hadassah turned away; unable to meet Lila's eyes as tears tickled the edges of sight but she refused to let them fall.
Lila placed a hand on Hadassah's shoulder: "This may not be easy but you're better than you think! Never give in to anybody—not even Clara—who wants to trick you into doubting your potential."
Hadassah nodded silently; throat too tight to speak.
That night she lay tossing before finally falling asleep; Clara's utterances were tendrils in her mind alongside Mother’s voice—but amidst quiet serenity were gray eyes and silver hair.
- Writer
