The rumor grew like wildfire. Each market day, Christiana felt the sting of eyes upon her. Women who once smiled now whispered behind their palms, and merchants offered goods with stiff politeness. Even children repeated what they overheard from careless adults: that she was nothing more than an orphan girl who clawed her way into wealth.
Ethan walked beside her, shoulders squared, shielding her as best he could. Yet he felt the weight of every whisper like arrows aimed at his own heart.
One afternoon, as they returned from the marketplace, Christiana finally broke the silence. "Ethan," she said softly, "perhaps we should leave again. I don't wish to bring shame upon your name."
He stopped in his tracks, turning to her, his eyes fierce. "Christiana, listen to me. You are not a shame. You are the very reason my name has worth. Without you, I am nothing but an empty shell. Do not ever believe their poison."
Her eyes glistened, but his words gave her strength. She squeezed his hand and walked on, head lifted higher than before.
That evening, Margaret called for them. Her face was troubled as she handed Ethan a folded letter. "This arrived today. It is from a family in the city, a family of influence. They… they question your place here."
Ethan unfolded the letter, his eyes darkening as he read the venomous words, claims that Christiana was unfit, that their presence dishonored the household, that Sophia was the rightful jewel of the family.
His jaw tightened. "So the whispers have reached beyond these walls."
Margaret's eyes filled with sorrow. "Ethan, Christiana… I fear this will only grow. The city listens to Sophia. She has friends in high places".
That night, Ethan saw Christiana in the garden. She was seated beneath the rose archway, her hands clasped in prayer, the candlelight from the windows falling gently across her face.
He knelt before her, his voice trembling with both anger and resolve. "Christiana, I will not let her win. I will not let her break us. Tomorrow, I will speak. Before the family, before the servants, before anyone who dares to whisper. I will tell the truth. And I will not be silenced."
Christiana looked into his eyes, steady and unwavering. "Then I will stand beside you, Ethan. Always."
The next day, the mansion was filled with visitors, family friends, merchants, officials, and servants lingering at the edges, eager to witness what was unfolding. Sophia entered gracefully, her gown gleaming, her lips curved in a smile that hid her malice.
At the center of the hall, Ethan took Christiana's hand and stepped forward. His voice rang out, strong and unshaken.
"You speak of whispers. Of lies dressed as truth. But I will tell you what truth is. This woman beside me, Christiana is not merely an orphan. She is the one who has stood with me in hunger, in cold, in rejection. She is the one who taught me the meaning of love. Without her, I would still be lost in bitterness. With her, I have found life."
A hush fell over the hall. Christiana's cheeks burned, her eyes glistening as she clung to his hand.
Ethan's gaze shifted, piercing Sophia. "If any of you wish to call her unworthy, then call me unworthy also. For I will not live in a world where she is diminished. Christiana is my honor. She is my truth. And I will stand with her until my last breath."
The silence broke into murmurs, some astonished, some moved, some ashamed. Sophia's face paled, her nails digging into her palm. For the first time, she felt her power slipping, not because Ethan had defied her, but because others were listening, and believing him.
Christiana turned to Ethan, her heart overflowing. No riches, no grandeur, no whispered approval could match the worth of that moment.
And Sophia, in the shadows of her humiliation, realized the fire she had kindled was no longer under her control.