Lady Alice’s Diary

Chapter 8: Bella’s Decision

Dark clouds gathered overhead, pressing down on the world with a heavy, suffocating air—the sure sign of an oncoming storm.

Bella stood by the window, staring at the bleak sky, her heart weighed down by an unshakable heaviness.

Maybe it was the weather.

Maybe it was… the thought of a heartbroken Alice.

She pulled her gaze away from the gloomy horizon and quickly turned to the task of picking out Alice’s clothes for the day. Quickly—because Alice had never cared much about what she wore. Any other noble young lady would throw a fit if a maid chose her dress without permission, but Alice wasn’t like that. Luckily, Bella had a sharp eye, and the dresses she picked always suited Alice perfectly.

With the chosen dress in her arms, Bella made her way to Alice’s room. She paused outside the door for a moment before slowly pushing it open and stepping inside.

On the bed, Alice was curled up under the blankets like a little shrimp, her messy sleep posture making Bella frown. Honestly, Bella never understood why the same Alice who carried herself with such grace in public slept in such a sloppy way.

“Miss… Miss, it’s time to wake up.” Bella gently shook Alice’s shoulder.

“Mmmmmm~~~”

Alice let out a long, soft groan, twisted her body, and, with her eyes still closed, murmured in a syrupy voice, “Good morning, Bella…”

“Good morning, Miss. But I think it’s time to actually get up, not just cling to the last bit of warmth in your bed.” Bella’s signature cool tone cut through the cozy air.

Alice blinked open her eyes with effort, glanced at Bella, then at the dimly lit room.

“What time is it, Bella? Did you come too early?”

She asked because of the weather. The heavy clouds outside blocked the sun, making it look more like dawn than morning.

“It’s already seven, Miss.”

“Seven? Oh, come on, Bella, since when do you tell lies? It’s barely five-thirty. Let me sleep a little longer…” Alice burrowed back into her blanket.

Bella glanced around the darkened room and understood.

“It really is seven. It only looks earlier because of the storm. The sun’s hidden behind the clouds—it’ll probably rain any moment now.” As she spoke, Bella lit a candle and set it on the stand, filling the room with a soft glow.

“Rain?” Alice sat up slowly, mumbling the word under her breath.

Seizing the chance, Bella stepped forward to help her get dressed. Alice leaned weakly against her, limp as a marionette, letting Bella move her this way and that.

In her past life, Alice had lived alone and done everything for herself. But in this life, she couldn’t even put on her own clothes without help—not because she was lazy, nor unwilling, but because she simply didn’t know how to handle the intricate gowns of noblewomen.

And maybe, just maybe… it was also because Alice liked leaning against Bella.

“Bella smells nice,” Alice thought.

She tilted her head slightly, watching Bella’s serious expression as she fastened buttons and smoothed fabric. Then Alice suddenly said:

“Bella, after breakfast, will you come to class with me? Today’s drawing class.”

Bella paused for the briefest moment, gave Alice a curious look, then resumed dressing her.

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Bella~”

It had been over a week since Alice and Doris parted ways. For the first few days, everyone in the castle had worried—Alice had been like a lost soul, swaying as she walked, as if she might collapse at any moment. Now, she still seemed a little down, but nowhere near as fragile as before.

As always, breakfast at the duke’s estate was a cherished family time.

“Father, can Bella come with me to class later?” Alice asked, turning to the duke.

Eberon glanced at Bella standing quietly behind his daughter, then smiled. “Of course she can.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” Alice mumbled through a mouthful of cake.

“My dear Alice,” Donna chided gently, “we don’t force etiquette on you at home, but please, finish chewing before you speak. You’ll choke otherwise.”

“I’ll remember next time, Mama,” Alice said sweetly.

Donna sighed and shook her head, but then a thought struck her.

“Alice, did you go to see Doris yesterday?”

Alice froze, set down her fork, and stayed quiet for a moment before giving the smallest nod.

“And… what did she say?”

Alice sat in silence, her eyes downcast.

Donna’s heart sank. She had her answer.

“Maybe… give it some time. Try again later. I think she just needs space right now.”

“Maybe,” Alice whispered.

Rain pattered against the windows. Today’s art lesson had been meant for outdoor sketching, but the weather had forced them indoors.

Anna, Alice’s art teacher, was only twenty-seven yet already hailed as the youngest master of oil painting in history. Her talent was staggering, and she had produced masterpiece after masterpiece that left the art world in awe.

But after accepting the duke’s invitation to teach Alice, Anna had discovered there were other styles—mesmerizing ones she’d never seen before. Like the pencil sketches Alice was drawing at that very moment.

Of course, this world had no “pencils.” The one in Alice’s hand existed only because she had asked her father to have one made. And yes, Eberon had asked why. Alice had told him she found some black stones outside—graphite—and realized they could be used to write or draw. With his help, they were cut into thin rods and wrapped in paper. Crude, but workable.

Alice put down her pencil.

“Who’s this girl? She’s beautiful.” Anna leaned closer to study the portrait. Bella, too, turned a questioning look on Alice.

“She’s… her name’s Doris. A friend. A good friend.” Alice’s voice was heavy with sorrow.

“So this is Doris,” Bella thought, staring at the lifelike girl on the page.

She had never met Doris, but she’d heard Alice speak of her countless times—always with a bright smile. Now, though… that smile was gone.

Bella glanced from Alice, her head bowed in silence, to the sketch of Doris.

“Why does Miss always think of her?” A strange tightness gripped Bella’s chest—something sharp, something sour. Something she had never felt before.

“Alice, it’s an honor to see you draw with this… this pencil art again,” Anna said with unrestrained excitement, too absorbed in her passion to notice Alice’s gloom.

“And it’s my honor to learn oil painting from you, Miss Anna,” Alice replied with a faint smile.

Anna had been so enchanted by Alice’s sketches that she had offered to teach her oil painting free of charge, on the condition that Alice teach her this new technique in return. It was hardly a fair bargain for a commoner to strike with a noble, but Alice had graciously agreed.

“Alright, Alice, I’ve learned so much already today. Now it’s your turn—time for oil painting.”

As Alice followed Anna’s guidance, Bella quietly tidied up the pencils and tools. But she found herself staring again at the sketch of Doris.

To Bella, Doris seemed ungrateful. Alice—daughter of the duke, princess of the Noah Plains—had disguised herself as a commoner just to be with her. And yet, when Doris learned the truth, she had turned her back on Alice, leaving her crushed. To Bella, Doris was hateful—she had stolen Alice’s joy away.

Bella might always wear a cold mask around Alice, but the truth was she cared deeply. She loved Alice’s smile, her cuteness, her mischief, her brilliance, and… that kiss.

The memory made Bella’s face flush. On her normally icy expression bloomed a rosy hue, like a flower blossoming on frozen ground—rare, fragile, and breathtaking.

But Alice didn’t notice.

“I’ll make Miss happy again. And Doris… I’ll make her forget Doris.” Bella vowed silently to herself.