Blue Sapphire Brooch

But her thought was disturbed by Edward's voice, "Beatrice, I wanted to give you this," Edward gave her a blue box. 

When she opened it and saw the breathtaking brooch, her eyes widened with delight. The deep blue sapphire in the center sparkled in the sunlight, and the intricate silver frame added a touch of elegance to the piece.

But as she looked closer, she realized that the brooch was almost identical to her mother's brooch, with only the color being different. She felt uneasy but didn't want to spoil the moment.

She touched the blue sapphire and said, "It's stunning, Edward. Thank you so much." She smiled trying to hide her discomfort with a smile.

Edward's eyes lit up with joy, "I'm thrilled that you like it, Beatrice. I chose it, especially for you," he said as he leaned in to fasten the brooch onto her dress.

Beatrice smiled warmly as she admired Edward's gentle gesture, something he always did for her. She found it sweet, but deep down she wanted more, something she knew Edward couldn't give her. 

A wave of guilt washed over her as she remembered her closeness with Gilbert and her longing for his touch. 'But, I'm not cheating, am I?' she thought to herself. 

As she tried to push the thought of Gilbert away, Beatrice's gaze shifted towards the window, where she saw a flock of birds soaring across the sky. 

But then she remembered that odor that made her uncomfortable. "But Edward," Beatrice said, her tone turning serious. "What are you doing with my mother here?"

She fixed her gaze on Edward, studying his face for any signs of deception. The metallic smell was still lingering in the air, making her more suspicious and uneasy. 

Edward looked taken aback by Beatrice's sudden change in tone. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes shifting to the side before returning to meet hers. 

"I...I came to see your mother, Beatrice," Edward replied, his voice shaking a bit. His eyes darted around the room, avoiding direct eye contact with Beatrice.

Beatrice furrowed her eyebrows, her suspicion growing stronger. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table and staring intently at Edward. "Why?" she asked, her voice firm and unyielding.

Edward shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I just wanted to check on her, to make sure she's okay," he muttered, avoiding Beatrice's gaze.

Beatrice leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. She wasn't convinced. "Why would you come here just for that? You could've just asked me," she said with a hint of anger in her voice.

As Edward stuttered and stumbled over his words, Beatrice's suspicion only grew. Her mind was racing, trying to piece together the clues and make sense of this strange encounter. 

Why had Edward come here to meet her mother, of all people? How about me? I'm the one that was sick, not her!? And why did he seem so hesitant and scared now? The sticky, metallic odor in the air only added to her discomfort. 

It was like a physical manifestation of her unease, clinging to her skin and making her feel dirty. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong here, that there was some hidden meaning behind this meeting.

Edward let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging. "Fine, I'll tell you the truth. I came to talk to your mother about something important, something that concerns you."

"Me?" Beatrice repeated, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Edward shifted in his seat. "Yes, Beatrice," he began, "I came because I was worried about you. I wanted to cheer you up with a gift." 

He paused, his hand reaching across the table to take hers. "But I wasn't sure what to get you, so I asked your mother for some ideas." 

It was even more peculiar for Edward to ask her mother for advice, given the strained relationship between Beatrice and the Duchess. Edward must have noticed the passive-aggressive tone in her mother's words during their conversation. 

They rarely spoke, even at formal events. It was clear that her mother did not know Beatrice's preferences. How did Edward even think to seek her mother's advice on this matter?

Beatrice leaned in closer to him, her eyes fixed on his face. "So let me get this straight, you came here to talk to my mother about a gift for me? And coincidentally, you gave me a brooch that has the same design as my mother's?" Her voice was sharp and laced with suspicion, as she tried to make sense of his words. She then let go of his hands. 

"Edward, why would you even ask my mother about my preferences? You should know that we are not close at all," Beatrice continued, her tone still accusatory, clearly angry with him.

Edward's face fell as he saw the suspicion and anger in Beatrice's eyes. He wiped his forehead with a shaky hand, leaving a damp spot on his shirt. "I-I'm really sorry, Beatrice," he stammered, his voice quivering. 

"I had no idea the brooch had the same design as your mother's. Please forgive me. I'll find another gift for you, something you'll love." He bowed his head in apology, his eyes downcast.

Beatrice just let out a deep sigh, feeling a little bit guilty for suspecting Edward and her mother of something they didn't necessarily do. Despite her suspicions, she realized that she didn't give Edward a chance to explain himself properly. Moreover, she didn't have any proof that they were truly having an affair.

She felt sorry for him, as he seemed genuinely worried about her well-being and wanted to make her happy. Maybe she was just being paranoid, and there was nothing more to it. But still, she was suspicious of both of them.

"It's fine, Edward. I'm tired now. I will go back to my chamber. Please, leave this place immediately." she said and walked towards the door.

"Beatrice, I'm sorry. Please…" Edward reached out and tried to grab her hands, but she shrugged them off and kept walking.

After the events of the day, Beatrice felt thoroughly exhausted. The conversations with Arthur and Edward had drained her of all her energy, leaving her feeling depleted and drowsy. She trudged wearily to her chamber and collapsed onto her bed, succumbing to a deep and restful sleep.

…

Beatrice felt a sense of familiarity wash over her as if she had been in this place before. She watched as the man turned away from her, gazing at the pink-tinged sunset on the balcony. Despite her nervousness, she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sight.

Her body felt heavy as if it was weighted down by an invisible force. She wanted to run, to escape from the man and his powerful aura, but her limbs wouldn't budge. With trembling hands and a racing heart, she prayed that he wouldn't harm her, that this was all just a dream.

The Devil's face was stunning, with sharp features and a chiseled body that exuded power. His black hair and piercing red eyes seemed to draw her in as if he was waiting for her to approach. 

But as she gazed at him, a realization dawned on her - he wouldn't do anything to her. There was something in his serene expression that reassured her, even as her nerves continued to fray.

As Beatrice gazed at the stunning sunset, her mind was filled with apprehension. 'What will become of us if he remains silent and unchanging?' she mused silently.

Breaking the silence, the Devil spoke up, "Everything will eventually fall into place and return to how they were supposed to be," he said, meeting her gaze. "You'll understand it later."

Beatrice felt a shiver run down her spine as he turned to face her. The Devil's piercing red eyes seemed to hold a secret knowledge that she couldn't comprehend. 

He remained standing beside her, staring intently at the horizon. After a moment, he turned and walked away, his steps disappearing into the darkness.

As he left, a sudden gust of wind swept across the balcony, causing Beatrice's hair to flutter around her face. She stood there for a few more moments, contemplating the Devil's words before she suddenly woke up.