Until The Day I Die

Despite being treated like royalty at Windsor Estate, with maids at her beck and call, exquisite jewelry, and the admiration of her peers, Victoria felt empty without Daemon's love. She yearned for his affection daily, but he remained distant, preferring to indulge in drinking with his friends over spending time with her and their son.

Desperate for his attention, Victoria resorted to fabricating their son's illness, but Daemon's response was indifferent. He entrusted the child's care to skilled maesters. Meanwhile, Lady Emily isolated herself, grieving Eleanor's presumed demise and disowning her son Daemon.

Every night, Daemon would sit on the balcony, clutching Eleanor's necklace, a reminder of his love for her. Daemon loved Eleanor, but his love for her was twisted. He loved her only as a symbol of duty and expectation, not for her individuality. Victoria approached Daemon with anguish.

"Rumors surround your family, our family. I am still known as the pleasure house woman who bore a bastard. You promised me respect and an honorable name." Daemon's eyes remained fixed on Eleanor's necklace, ignoring Victoria's words.

"Do something!" she demanded. Daemon raised an eyebrow. "Something like what?" He asked uninterestedly.

"Make me your wife." She responds softly. Daemon laughs and with his tone mocking.

"Make you, my wife? You? Victoria, don't be absurd. You sound insane". He notices her shocked expression.

"Victoria, I am a Windsor. We are Windsors; we do not wed women from pleasure houses. Would you like to see the family tree?" he continues.

"What about our son? Your son! Your only son. Wed me for him, so he will not be known as a bastard of Windsor." She pleads with him. Daemon stands up and keeps Eleanor's necklace in his pocket.

"Windsor has many bastards, my dear Victoria. Daerion, is just one of many. The only difference is that he is acknowledged and cared for." He says with a smirk. Hearing this, Victoria stands still in shock. It was as if her world came crashing down, her ears ringing with Daemon's words.

She thought she was special, that bearing a Windsor heir had elevated her status. But now, she realized she was just a disposable mistress, adorned with gold but devoid of true value. Daemon's stare danced between her and the floor.

"Victoria, I am still married to Eleanor. If I wanted another wife, it wouldn't be you. You are here because circumstances spiraled out of control, and I'm stuck with the consequences. Be grateful for my mistakes, for it has elevated you." Victoria pleaded with teary eyes.

"But you told me you hated her! I've been trapped in this house, yet I'm not allowed in your bed." Daemon's expression was as cold as ice.

"That is not my bedroom, it's Eleanor's, I cannot have a woman from a pleasure house desecrate it. You can have every other room, anyone you want, but not that one." He walks away. She collapsed onto the floor, clutching her pearl necklace as if it were a lifeline. Her hand trembled as she covered her mouth, stifling a scream.

Meanwhile, Daemon retreated to his room, his eyes fixed on the numerous portraits of Eleanor as he whispered,

"Where are you?"

The Catwrights:

After his brief encounter with Eleanor, Wade found himself drawn to the woods, hoping to meet her again. He began taking longer and more frequent strolls with Stormfire in anticipation. Each day, before setting out, he would stand before his mirror, practicing his posture and rehearsing the words he'd say if he met her again.

He became more mindful of his appearance and demeanor, eager to make a good impression. Lilian noticed the change in Wade and commented to Lady Luciana,

"Look, mother, he's smiling again, and he is going out without me. Isn't it strange?" Lady Luciana observed Wade's gestures and replied,

"it's only a matter of time, my dear, before we uncover the reason for his happiness." Wade returned to the spot where he met Eleanor, with high hopes, but he didn't give up when she wasn't there. He hoped their paths would cross again. One day, as he sat admiring a blooming flower, he heard footsteps behind him.

He stood up, ready to defend himself, but his apprehension turned to delight when he saw Eleanor.

"You!" she exclaimed; her eyes wide with surprise.

"Are you always here?" She asked. Wade stuttered nervously,

"Y-yes, sometimes…many times…often…I mean, yes," but his smile betrayed his hidden excitement. Eleanor's stare lingered on him, and she asked,

"it's Wade, isn't it?" Wade's smile broadened; he was thrilled that she actually remembered his name.

"The last time we met, you said my name, how do you know my name?" As they conversed, Wade chose his words carefully, not wanting to scare her off. He was curious about her being far away from her marital home but he didn't want to pry too deep.

"It's a small world, my lady," he said.

"Your father helped my family with our finances; he kept account of our financial affairs. You haven't met me, but I've met you. I've heard stories about your family from my father. I was privileged to meet your father when I was a little boy." Eleanor's facial expression changed to relief as she exclaimed,

"Oh!" Wade and Eleanor stood speechless for a while. Eleanor searched for hidden meaning in Wade's posture, while he was captivated by her beauty, with a smile growing wider. As the moment stretched, Wade knew he had to break the silence before Eleanor slipped away again.

"Poetry!" he exclaimed.

"I overheard you reciting verses the other day. Do you aspire to be a poet?" Eleanor hesitated before responding.

"It's just a hobby I acquired recently after my…" she stops herself from revealing too much.

"It's a hobby." She repeated softly.

"That's a coincidence. So amazing! I'm passionate about poetry too. I've always dreamed about being a poet." Wade says with enthusiasm. Eleanor raised an eyebrow, taken aback.

"You don't seem like the poetic type," she said with skepticism. Wade smiles flattered, and he responds nervously

"I keep it under wraps due to other commitments." Wade had no genuine interest in poetry. He had feigned enthusiasm to connect with her on a personal level, now, he worried about being exposed and hoped she won't probe further. Eleanor's gaze shifted to Stormfire, and she said softly

"Your horse is magnificent. A true beauty in the form of a beast." Wade had a sigh of relief because he could excitedly talk about his steed instead of poetry.

"Stormfire is one of a kind. Fierce, and loyal."

"Stormfire! A beautiful name." Eleanor responds. Wade's voice dropped to a whisper, lost in her eyes.

"Eleanor is a beautiful name for a beautiful soul." Eleanor leaned in, trying to get him to repeat himself, but Wade brushed it off, saying he often whispered to himself to clarify his thoughts. As they spent more time with Stormfire, Wade noticed how Eleanor connected with his horse who is usually aloof.

He found himself captivated by her soft voice, radiant smile, and beautiful eyes. Everything about Eleanor drew him in, but the knowledge he had of her marriage lingered in his thoughts over his admiration.

He couldn't help but wonder why she was so far from her husband, his smile danced on his lips differently, reflecting the turmoil of his thoughts. Wade's curiosity about Eleanor's marriage lingered beneath the surface, it was an inquiry he couldn't silence in his mind, but he refrained from asking, sensing that pushing too hard might scare her away.

Instead, he focused on the present moment, intoxicated in the sight of her, the sound of her laughter, and the gentle way she interacted with Stormfire. As they prepared to part ways, Wade offered to escort Eleanor home. His gesture was his desire to prolong their time together.

But she declined with caution, citing their stranger status. Wade understood her concerns, though his heart protested the idea of letting her slip away.

"Will I see you again?" Wade asked, while his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity he couldn't hide. Eleanor's soft smile hinted at a possibility.

"I don't know," she said,

"But I had a lovely time with you and Stormfire. Your horse is magnificent and quite charming." Wade grew jealous of Stormfire. It seemed as if Stormfire was taking all the attention from him and he subtly wished he didn't bring Stormfire with him, so Eleanor could only focus on him and nothing else.

Wade's persistence was charming and gentle.

"Stormfire would love to see you again. Just let us know when, and we'll be here, waiting." Eleanor's gaze drifted to the woods, her eyes misting over a faraway look.

"I come here often," she said,

"To write poetry. I find it very peaceful here." Wade seizes the opportunity and speaks in a rush even before Eleanor could finish her sentence.

"I will…I mean, we will meet you here then. We can write together. I'd also love to see your poetry.' She nodded with a little smile on her lips.

"I'd like that." With a gentle goodbye, she turned to leave, her skirt rustling against the underbush. Wade's heart ached, willing for her to look back. And then, she did. Her smile, sent Wade's heart soaring with excitement. He embraced Stormfire with a tight hug, he couldn't contain his joy.

"Oh, we should head home," Wade exclaimed, as he mounted Stormfire and he left looking forward to his next encounter with Eleanor.

The Windsors:

"Yarnton! She is in Yarnton," Joanne says to Victoria about Eleanor's location.

"Yarnton?" Victoria repeated.

"I thought she was dead and buried by the earth. A lady of great wealth, from a great house, living as a commoner in Yarnton? How quaint." Joanne had sought out Victoria, desperate for a solution to her problem with Eleanor. She knew Victoria and her shared a great deal of hatred for Eleanor, and she wasn't wrong.

"My husband, searched for her obsessively for months, leaving my child and I behind. And now that he found her, she's all he talks about. I'm sick of it. I don't even think he remembers the name of our child, if he wasn't born a boy, he would have probably named her after Eleanor." Joanne groaned.

Victoria raised her eyebrow, sipping her tea.

"Yarnton may be small, but it's not insignificant. Even if we find her, what can we do? I don't see her as a threat. She's not here, and Daerion is heir. Daemon and I are happy and there's nothing she can do to change that." Joanne's expression turned aggressive while she mocked Victoria.

"Happy? You have lied to yourself so much that you believe your own lies." She scoffs.

"Eleanor is Daemon's wife. Victoria, wake up! If Eleanor returns, she has more rights than you and your precious heir. And let's be honest with ourselves, Daemon loves Eleanor with his life, you are of no value to him." Victoria's eyes narrow as she acknowledges the truth.

Eleanor was indeed still legally married to Daemon, and she knew she had to act. Everyone believed Eleanor was dead, except Daemon, but if he was to see her dead body, the end of her existence would dawn on him. Only Victoria, Joanne and Richard knew Eleanor was in Yarnton.

She knew that if Daemon discovered Eleanor's location, he would bring her back immediately. She had to be five steps ahead, for herself and her son. Eleanor had to be eliminated.

"I know what you are thinking. I have thought about it too, I have killed her a million times in my own thoughts. Eleanor is not here but yet she holds our husbands…my husband…and your…under some kind of spell. It's an enchantment that needs to be broken." Joanne says with determination, and Victoria agrees.

The Catwrights:

"Mr. Cole!" Wade exclaimed, his voice bursting with joy as he strode into the room. Mr. Cole looked up from the book he was reading.

"What's got you so excited, young master?" he asked with curiosity as he set his book aside. Wade's eyes shone with eagerness as he approached his loyal butler and friend.

"I want to learn everything about poetry! How do I get started? What books should I read? I want to understand the art of words, rhythm and rhyme."

With a skeptical expression, Mr. Cole says

"Poetry? Wade? You've never shown interest in it before, not even as a young lad. What has sparked this sudden interest?" Wade's face fell and recovered quickly.

"It's a new season, a new age, a grown lad and I have discovered a new passion. Help me, or I'll tell father about your extracurricular activities with…you know who." Mr. Cole quickly held up his hands in surrender,

"No need for blackmail, Wade, calm down! I have some books that might interest you." He rose from his chair and led Wade to a nearby shelf, filled with leather-bound volumes. Wade's face lit up as he quickly scanned the titles, and took every book that his hands could carry.

"Thank you, Mr. Cole! You've saved my life and your secret is safe with me forever." Mr. Cole quickly reminds him of the upcoming party he was hosting.

"Oh no, I completely forgot!" he says as he slouches a bit with panic.

"Please, Mr. Cole, take charge of everything. I have…other matters to attend to." He glanced around the room, ensuring they were alone, he leans in and whispers

"I have a lady to impress and she loves poetry, and now, I must love poetry too," Wade winks at Mr. Cole and rushes off. As Wade rushes off, his mischievous sister emerges from the shadows behind the door.

"If you tell me about the lucky lady, I won't tell father about Stonehenge." She teased with amusement.

"Go tell him." Mr. Cole says without hesitation. Lilian's face flushes slightly and Mr. Cole looks at her lovingly and holds her hands.

"My dear girl, I think you know better than to pry into Wade's affairs. He will reveal it to us at the right time." Lilian pouted, but Mr. Cole beat a quick retreat, leaving her to wonder about Wade's sudden interest in poetry and the mysterious lady who had captured his heart.

Meanwhile, Eleanor was enjoying a relaxing afternoon with Loretta and Linda, who were eager to hear more about her time with Wade. They sat on the field, surrounded by flowers, as Eleanor shared stories of their encounters. But despite her interest in Wade, Eleanor couldn't shake off the fact that she was still married to Daemon.

She felt torn between her reality and her fantasies, completely unsure of how to navigate the complex web of her emotions. Duty or desire?