Ruined Beauty

The carriage stopped in front of the Ashter mansion when the sun was already about to set. With the funds provided by her father still untouched, Rosalie decided to treat Aurora to an outing, visiting restaurants and shops and indulging in the small luxuries she had long desired but could never afford. Unsure if the original Rosalie had ever shown such gratitude to her maid for the kind treatment she received, she resolved to do it regardless. After all, Aurora deserved it.

Upon entering the house, they were met with the apprehensive and bewildered expressions of the help, who were at a loss for how to comport themselves upon seeing Rosalie.

'What is going on here?'

Although Rosalie had grown accustomed to being looked down upon and treated with negligence, even hostility, it was the first time she had witnessed both the maids and butlers gazing at her with eyes filled with frustration and suppressed fear.

As Aurora was summoned to the kitchen the moment the Head Maid spotted her arrival, Rosalie remained to greet the other members of her family, who she had not yet seen that day.

Approaching her father's study, Rosalie heard a resounding crash, as if a heavy object had collided with the floor. It was followed by Raphael's vehement, almost deranged shouts, hurling accusations of disgraceful and despicable actions towards Lord Ashter, while he continued to fling other valuable items to the ground.

"That is enough, Raphael! Rosalie is twenty-one now, if she does not get married soon, she will have to spend the rest of her life locked in the Temple and die a spinster! At least this marriage will benefit our family!"

The moment Ian Ashter concluded his demeaning monologue, the door to his study burst open with a resounding bang. Raphael stormed out of the room as if it were engulfed in flames, but his stride faltered upon seeing his sister standing directly in his path, clutching two carton boxes with her slender arms.

A vile smirk twisted his features into a crescent shape. His large hands snatched the pink box from his sister's grasp, discarding the box's lid onto the floor. He extracted the dress, gripping it tightly by the sleeves, and pivoted to face his father, his wild smile reminiscent of a deranged man.

"So, this is it? You are going to parade her in front of Amados like livestock?!"

Seizing the opportunity presented by Raphael's distracted state, Rosalie gingerly concealed the other box containing the red dress behind one of the sizable flowerpots positioned against the nearby wall, and stood in front of it, shielding it with her entire body.

Since Lord Ashter remained without a retort to counter his son's words, Raphael cast another disdainful glance at the dress and scoffed.

"You even gave her enough money to buy one of Lady Cecilia's fancy dresses, huh?! Well, this is not happening! I am not allowing it!"

"Raphael, you are crossing the line here! I am still the head of the family and you ––"

Their father tried to reason with the man but it was already too late. Raphael's strong hands clutched the soft, elegant fabric between his fingers and with one rapid motion, the dress was torn in half.

Rosalie remained transfixed, watching her brother tear the dress apart like a wild beast mercilessly destroying its prey. Tear after tear, the once exquisite and expensive garment transformed into nothing more than worthless scraps.

At last, the girl's eyes were fixed on the pile of fabric, lace, beads, jewels, and ribbons laying next to her brother's feet – a pitiful sight if not worse – and a strange wave of sadness and regret washed over her entire being. And as if trying to make her feel even worse or simply to tarnish what was left of that glimpse of beauty that Rosalie had a chance to behold, Raphael stepped over the ruined dress and started stomping on it like a child having a spiteful fit, crushing it with the weight of his body, and smearing the dirt of his shoes all over it.

Once Raphael appeared content with the outcome of his actions, he strode towards his sister, gripping her chin tightly, and bore into her with the most terrifying gaze she had ever witnessed.

Fearful of what might ensue, Rosalie instinctively shut her eyes and attempted to pull away, but her brother's grip held her firmly in place. Prepared to endure whatever may come—whether a slap across the face, being thrown to the ground, or even a beating—she simply wished for it to end there, to avoid experiencing something worse during the night.

Yet, nothing occurred.

Rosalie slowly opened her eyes and noticed Raphael's somewhat disgruntled yet still angry eyes running all over her face as if trying to read something in it. He then opened his mouth, his lips trembling uncontrollably, but all that he could say were only fragments of his frantic thoughts.

"You..! ...Damnt it, Rosalie! Ugh!"

He jerked his hand, letting go of Rosalie's face, and stormed out, his heavy steps echoing through the hall of the second floor like thunder. Lord Ashter let out a weary sigh and locked himself back in his study, while his daughter was left alone, standing over the dirty pile of fabric which was a valuable gift from a generous stranger just minutes ago.

She knelt down in front of the ruined dress and without even realizing it, her hands were buried among the torn pieces of fabric and lace, sliding them between her long fingers, trying to feel their fading beauty for the last time.

It was the beauty she did not deserve. It was the beauty that did not belong to her. It was the beauty she could never afford in the first place. And as expected, it disappeared just as suddenly as it appeared.

'How can he crush something so beautiful and valuable so easily? As expected, his blackened heart is empty.'

Rosalie rose to her feet, making her way toward the towering flowerpot where she had discreetly stashed the unnoticed box. As she headed towards her bedroom, her heart pounded like a galloping horse, whether due to overwhelming anxiety or the fear of the potential consequences if Raphael's anger were to persist.

Hugging the carton box tightly against her chest, the girl shook her head and sighed. Two days. Only two days remained until the banquet.

She had to get out.