Unpleasant Breakfast

Rosalie's heavy steps were drowning in the loud drumming sound of her beating heart. It was only the second time she would be having breakfast with the Marquess, however, even now, no matter how hard she tried, the pulsating anxiety deep inside her chest was like a frightened bird, trying to escape the stern cage of her ribs.

As she stood in front of the door to the main dining hall, the girl watched one of the butlers bow his head lightly while reaching his hand to open the door, and when the entrance was wide open before her, she took a somewhat shallow breath, cleared her throat with a subtle cough, and resolutely marched toward the dining table where her father was already waiting for her, immersed into reading the morning's newspaper.

"Good morning."

Rosalie almost mumbled those words under her breath, there was no use wasting precious air on words that would be met with silence, and as expected, Marquess Ashter only peeked from behind the newspaper and put it away, quietly watching his daughter take her seat behind the table, her hollow gaze averted as always.

The man ordered the maids to arrange their food with a mere gesture of his hand, his sharp grey eyes still glued firmly to his daughter's expressionless face, and once the help was done with the dishes, Marquess Ashter gestured for everyone to leave the room, and took a glass of water in his large, calloused hand.

Despite feeling hungry almost to the point of fainting, Rosalie knew that she was not allowed to touch the food first - in the Ashter household, unless the woman was to dine alone, it was always the man who had to initiate the meal, and, perhaps, her father was simply checking whether or not the girl had forgotten it after eating most of her meals alone for the past week.

"Eat now. You look unhealthy."

Still looking down at her plate, Rosalie picked up a silver fork, however, she was rather reluctant to start eating. The awkward atmosphere inside the dining room was suffocating her even more than her tight corset, and now, only the mere thought of putting something inside her mouth was making her sick.

'I guess I was wrong... Rosalie is this skinny simply because it is impossible to eat in this man's company.'

The quiet sound of Lord Ashter's cutlery touching the porcelain surface of his plate was rumbling through the quiet room like a lightning strike, making Rosalie wince every time it reached her ears. And at last, clearly tired of his daughter's weak appetite, the man cleared his throat with a generous sip of water, and said, in an "as-the-matter-of-fact" tone,

"The food that is being served to you during each meal always goes to waste. Finish your meal or else I will instruct the staff to stop serving you food altogether."

If it were someone else, Rosalie would have probably taken such a remark as a mere joke, however, Ian Ashter was a man of his word, and he would never waver, not even for his one and only daughter.

Thus, the girl made another attempt to pick up her fork and forced a piece of chicken down her throat, downing it with a generous sip of apple juice, afraid that she might choke otherwise. She was expecting the rest of the meal to continue in silence per usual, however, for reasons unknown, her father decided to be exceptionally "chatty" today.

"As you know, His Highness the Crown Prince is returning from the hunting trip. We have received an official invitation from the Imperial Palace to attend the celebration."

"I see."

According to the novel, The Hunting Trip was an annual event frequented by the young masters from each noble family, although there was really nothing noble about it - just a bunch of hot-blooded young men trying to vent their anger and frustration by killing innocent living things, and yet, the Fighting Tournaments aside, it was considered to be the most prestigious event a noble can attend, mainly because it was led by the Crown Prince himself.

Marquess Ashter let out a rather disappointed sigh and offered his daughter a cold, reprimanding look.

"The eldest son of Duke Amado sent a letter with a marriage proposal the other day. You will be formally introduced during the celebration banquet."

Rosalie flinched and almost dropped her cutlery on the floor. Hearing her father mention marriage made her recall one particularly unpleasant passage from the book.

Rosalie Ashter, despite her nearly ruined family background, was still a very valuable asset on the marital market - she was the epitome of beauty, grace, and obedience, even married noblemen were secretly lusting after her, while the eligible bachelors all as one crowned her their ideal type of a woman.

Such praise should have been an indicator that Rosalie was the most desirable woman in the whole Empire, and although it was definitely true, receiving letters with marriage proposals was a very rare occasion for the Ashter family.

And it was all because of Raphael.

While the rest of the nobility knew Raphael Ashter as a caring and overprotecting older brother, in reality, he was sickly obsessed with his sister and threatened every single man who dared to be bold enough to approach Rosalie with a marriage proposal, to cut off their genitals and hang them at the front gates of their mansions as the sign of their worthlessness.

Lady Ashter would not have been bothered by her brother's ruthless behavior if it was not for one major detail - even though the proposals were rejected and the men who sent them never dared to approach the girl again, it was still Rosalie who had to pay the price for receiving such proposals in the first place.

Having made an incredible effort to suppress her shivering, Rosalie swallowed an invisible hard lump inside her throat and replied, her voice still shaking,

"F-Father, I don't think this is the right time –"

"Young Duke William Amado is a good guy. I have been working very hard to arrange this marriage and the man is willing to pay us good money for marrying you, so forget about your tantrums and get ready to meet him at the banquet. The decision is final."

The man called in the butler to clear the table, then rapidly left his seat and started walking toward the door, only to pause right behind his daughter's chair. After a few moments of hesitation, he let out another irritated exhale, and said, surprisingly quietly,

"I will be out until tomorrow morning. Your... brother is coming back tonight."

He stretched his arm as if in an attempt to pat the girl on the shoulder, but quickly put it down, and exited the room, leaving Rosalie alone, trembling like a frightened little animal.

'Tonight... God help me.'