Morning had entered the Eisenhardt estate in a quiet, melancholic hush, but inside, the household was already bustling with activity. Every servant was immersed in their duties—footsteps were brisk, faces were focused. Yet, all eyes seemed drawn to one place: the window.
Beyond the glass, in the courtyard, Magnus Von Eisenhardt was preparing to go hunting. Clothes in light brown hunting attire with a brown hat atop his head, he stood tall and composed. His blue eyes surveyed the area with indifference, and a calm, commanding aura radiated from him.
Beside him stood his valet, Felix, and a few young men also Clothes for the hunt, mounted on horses, with hunting hounds gathered at their feet. They were ready to depart toward the Arvendale Forest.
Meanwhile, within the house, a quiet buzz had begun to stir among the servants. The news of Magnus's upcoming wedding had already spread—not only throughout the estate but even as far as the newspapers.
Behind the window, a group of maids whispered with excitement.
"Look at him! Like a prince straight out of a painting," whispered the first maid, her eyes gleaming.
"Such graceful steps, such poise… A true gentleman," the second added in awe.
"I think after the wedding, he'll look at all of us differently. He'll be on a whole other level," she continued.
"He has always been different," the first maid replied softly, almost reverently.
Just as they were about to giggle, a firm yet gentle voice called from behind them.
"What are you watching, ladies?" — It was Madam Janeta, the most trusted and experienced housekeeper of the estate. She stood behind them, hands on her hips, observing quietly.
The maids turned around quickly, startled. "We… we were just… watching Mr Magnus," one of them said, blushing deeply.
Madam Janeta raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. "It's perfectly fine to admire Mr Magnus, but the breakfast dishes won't wash themselves. Back to work, girls."
"Yes, of course, Madam Janeta!" — they chimed in and quickly scattered to their tasks.
⋆⁺₊⋆━━━━⊱ • ༒ • ⊰━━━━⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆━━━━⊱ • ༒ • ⊰━━━━⋆⁺₊⋆
As usual, I was sitting on the thick branch of my favorite pine tree in the Arvendale forest, reading a book. The forest was peaceful—birds chirped cheerfully, and the wind gently rustled the leaves. Below the tree, a stream flowed quietly, and across it, I could see Magnus's annex.
Suddenly, the sharp crack of a gunshot rang out. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest. I knew that sound—it was Magnus. He must be hunting some poor bird or animals in the woods. He was a true marksman, never missing his target.
I thought of climbing down the tree and running back to my grandfather's cottage, but then I realized they were hunting quite close to where I was. If I moved, they might spot me.
I decided to stay hidden. The sound of the gunshot unsettled me, so I covered my ears with my hands. After a while, silence fell. I assumed they had left, so I peeked down — there was no one in sight.
I was about to climb down from the branch when I suddenly heard footsteps. Someone was coming toward the tree. My heart pounded. I climbed a bit higher and tried to hide among the leaves.
When I looked down again… it was Magnus. He stood leaning against the pine tree, then slowly removed his brown. I stayed completely still on the branch, waiting for him to leave. My heart was racing. I wanted to look at him one more time, but as I shifted slightly, my hand brushed against the leaves. The rustle caught Magnus's attention, and he immediately turned toward me.
He slowly raised his rifle and pointed it in my direction. My breath caught in my throat. I clung tightly to the tree and shouted,
"Please, don't shoot! It's me… Layla!"
He lowered the rifle. A faint smile appeared on his face — as if he found my fear amusing. Just then, a black bird flew out from the leaves near me, startling me. I slipped and fell from the branch… But I didn't hit the ground — someone caught me firmly in their arms.
It was Magnus.
But suddenly, he loosened his grip, and we both fell to the ground together. Now I was on top of him, while he lay beneath me, still holding me tightly by the waist.
My breath caught, and my eyes widened in shock: How could this cold and merciless duke save me? I had always thought he would watch me fall and laugh.
Realizing I was lying on top of him, my cheeks flushed. I lifted my head — Magnus's dark hair was tousled, and there was a sly smile on his crimson lips. He stared at me in silence.
For a moment, our eyes locked, and time seemed to stop. Slowly, instinctively, Magnus leaned in closer. I could feel my heart pounding. I froze.
But just as he was about to kiss me, panic mixed with excitement surged through me, and I pushed him away. Without saying a word, I quickly stood up and ran off toward my grandfather's cottage.
Magnus stayed sitting on the grass, watching me leave, a quiet smile playing on his lips.
⋆⁺₊⋆━━━━⊱ • ༒ • ⊰━━━━⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆━━━━⊱ • ༒ • ⊰━━━━⋆⁺₊⋆
Meanwhile, Jasper sat in his room, writing a letter to me. Sunlight streamed through the window, painting the room in warm golden hues. Everything was elegantly arranged — each item reflected Jasper himself: orderly and refined with an aristocratic touch.
He finished the letter, his handwriting smooth and graceful, and at the bottom he wrote:
"I'll be waiting for you before sunset, in front of the old bakery," — it said.
He folded the letter and carefully tied it to the white dove's leg, then opened the window. The dove flapped its wings and flew away — toward the cottage I was living in.
When I opened my room door, I had just come out of the shower. My hair was wet, and I had a towel wrapped around it. Suddenly, my eyes caught the window — our white dove, mine and Jasper's, was standing on the windowsill. I took the letter tied to its leg and read it. I knew it was hard for him now — after all, the girl he loved was marrying someone else.
I quickly changed my clothes, went downstairs, told Grandpa I was going to see Jasper, and left the cottage. When I reached the front of the old bakery, Jasper was already there. He smiled when he saw me, but his eyes… they were full of pain.
"Hey, Layla," he said in a melodic but quiet voice.
"Hey, Jasper..." I said, a little hesitant. "Are you okay?"
He shrugged and looked down at the ground. "Not really."
I said slowly, in a thoughtful tone, "Is it because Magnus and Emily... are getting engaged?"
He whispered softly, "Yeah… it is, Layla." His voice was full of sorrow.
"I've loved her since we were kids. I always brought her flowers, tried in so many ways to get her attention. But... she never really saw me," he said, snapping the stem of a rosebud in his hand and letting it fall to the ground.
This felt familiar to me. I remembered how, when we were kids, Jasper had made a beautiful flower garden for Emily. But she had just laughed and walked away.
I looked at him with a touch of warmth in my eyes, a wave of tenderness mixed with sympathy rising in my chest.
"Are these just feelings from the past?" I asked, softly taking a step closer to him.
Jasper stayed silent for a moment. Then he lifted his gaze and looked straight into my eyes.
"Maybe," he said, his lips trembling slightly. "Maybe… they're not in the past," he added, almost whispering the last words.
I walked up to him gently and placed my hand on his shoulder. He flinched a little and looked at me. "I understand you, Jasper. Even if she didn't see you, you tried with all your heart. That's not nothing," I said in a kind voice.
I stepped a bit closer, offering him a warm smile."As a friend, I'll be by your side, Jasper. Always."
There was a hint of hopelessness in his voice. I looked away, but something inside me softened. I bowed my head slightly — he was my close friend, and seeing him like this hurt.
⋆⁺₊⋆━━━━⊱ • ༒ • ⊰━━━━⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆━━━━⊱ • ༒ • ⊰━━━━⋆⁺₊⋆
The night was calm. The guest hall of the Eisenhardt estate looked almost magical in the dim light. A crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling gave off a soft, warm glow. Every piece of furniture was chosen with care: antique wooden chairs, silk curtains, and in the center, a beautifully handwoven carpet. Gentle flames flickered in the fireplace, casting a cozy warmth across the room.
Duchess Eleanora sat deeply in a dark-toned armchair, a cup of tea in her hand. Beside her was Madam Gertrude — wearing a brown laced dress, smiling mysteriously as she continued the conversation.
"She must be ready for marriage," said Eleanora, carefully placing her cup on the saucer.
"But Magnus doesn't let anyone close to him," replied Gertrude, a trace of worry in her voice.
"Perhaps it's only a matter of time. After all, he is naturally reserved," Eleanora said in a calm yet firm tone.
Gertrude nodded slowly. "The Laurents will be arriving in a few days. I should prepare to receive them…"
Just then, the door to the sitting room opened, and Magnus entered with quiet authority. He was dressed in an elegant suit, his movements composed, his gaze cold. His hair was slightly styled, yet that natural unruliness gave him a unique charm.
He bowed silently, but with respect. "Grandmother. Mother."
Eleanora smiled gently and simply nodded. "You've arrived right on time, my dear."
Gertrude looked at him intently but said nothing. She only set her cup down and placed her hand over her chest. Magnus stood for a brief moment, observing them both, then walked over and took a seat opposite them.