The morning after the banquet, sunlight poured through the tall windows of the De QueenDalen estate, bathing the marble halls in gold. Servants hurried along the corridors with polished trays, and the sound of measured footsteps echoed with the rhythm of order and pride.
Melissa sat at the end of the long dining table, her teacup untouched. Her parents, Lord Armand and Lady Seraphine De QueenDalen, sat in their stately chairs with eyes that carried both affection and authority. Across from her, her younger sister Anna chattered brightly about the festivities, speaking of gowns, jewels, and the laughter of noblemen.
Melissa, however, heard only fragments of the conversation. Her thoughts lingered on the quiet eyes of Kafis, the way his presence had spoken without demanding. She remembered the whisper of his words about roots and petals. The world celebrated gold and glitter, but her heart longed for something deeper.
Lord Armand's voice broke through her reverie. "Melissa, you were distant last night. You smiled politely, but your silence did not escape us. The banquet was not merely a celebration, it was an opportunity."
Melissa straightened. "An opportunity, Father?"
"To show yourself as ready for the future that awaits you," Lady Seraphine added gently. "Many eyes are upon you, Melissa. The name De QueenDalen carries weight, and so does the one who bears it. Your future cannot be left to chance."
Melissa's fingers tightened slightly around her cup. She already knew where this conversation was leading.
Anna leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Johannesburg Elias spoke of you all evening, Melissa. Did you not hear? He told Mother that you are as radiant as the morning sun. Everyone knows he is the most admired among the noble heirs. Imagine what a union between our families would mean."
Lord Armand nodded approvingly. "Johannesburg Elias is a man of presence, wealth, and promise. His name alone could strengthen our legacy. And I hear his family seeks alliances that will secure his future as well."
Melissa lowered her eyes, choosing her words carefully. "Elias is polite, yes. But I hardly know him beyond the formality of his words."
"Formality is the language of nobility," her father replied firmly. "A man who speaks with purpose is a man who understands responsibility. You will have time to know him. That is what courtship is for."
Melissa's lips pressed into a thin line. Her heart resisted the thought, though she dared not reveal why. To speak of Kafis here, in this room heavy with expectation, would be unthinkable.
Lady Seraphine reached across the table, her hand brushing Melissa's gently. "We do not ask you to surrender your happiness, child. But happiness is stronger when it stands on the foundation of duty. Elias is a safe choice, one who can give you the world."
Melissa lifted her gaze, her eyes meeting her mother's. "But what if I do not wish for the world, Mother? What if I wish only for… truth?"
A silence fell, sharp enough to still even Anna's chatter. Lord Armand's brow furrowed.
"Truth?" he repeated slowly. "Truth does not fill halls or protect estates. Truth does not bind alliances or preserve names. You speak as though you are a poet, Melissa, not a daughter of De QueenDalen."
Melissa's chest tightened, but she held her ground. "Perhaps poets see what the world forgets, Father. That not all treasures are measured in land or gold."
Her father's eyes grew stern. "Enough. You will meet with Elias again. He will dine with us tomorrow. I expect you to welcome him with the grace of your name. Do not shame this house with fanciful rebellion."
Melissa lowered her gaze. "Yes, Father."
The conversation moved on, Anna returning to her chatter, Lady Seraphine smoothing the air with soft words. But Melissa's heart ached. She felt the weight of chains invisible yet heavy, chains forged not of iron but of expectation.
Later, in the quiet of the garden, Melissa found her friends waiting. Clara Melee was seated on a stone bench, weaving a chain of wildflowers. Khule McArthur stood tall with his arms crossed, while Prudent Walker leaned against the fountain with his thoughtful frown.
"You look troubled," Clara said softly, her gentle eyes rising to Melissa's.
Melissa exhaled, her steps slow as she moved to the bench. "My parents spoke this morning. They believe Johannesburg Elias should be my future."
Khule let out a low whistle. "Elias? Well, if it is status they want, he has it. I will not lie, Melissa, your family would be pleased. He is handsome, rich, and already adored."
"Handsome and rich do not make a heart faithful," Melissa replied, her tone edged with quiet defiance.
Prudent's voice was measured, as always. "Melissa, your family is not wrong. Nobility survives on alliances, not dreams. It may not be fair, but it is the way of things. If you marry Elias, you secure not only yourself but also your name."
Melissa turned sharply, her eyes flashing. "And if I marry him without love? What will I secure then? A hollow heart that no riches can heal?"
Clara placed her hand gently over Melissa's. "Your heart is not wrong, Melissa. Perhaps there is someone waiting who will give you the truth you long for."
Melissa's thoughts flickered to Kafis, the way his eyes had seen her without disguise, the way his words had carried weight without arrogance. She said nothing, but the memory stirred warmth within her chest.
Khule sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Clara fills your head with softness. Melissa, do not let imagination lead you astray. A heart that longs for what it cannot have is a dangerous thing."
Melissa met his gaze calmly. "Or perhaps it is the only thing that keeps me alive."
The garden grew silent, the fountain's trickle filling the air. In that silence, Melissa felt the truth grow stronger within her. She would face the weight of expectation, but deep inside, she knew her heart was already walking a different path.
That night, when the stars scattered across the velvet sky, Melissa stood once more at her balcony. She looked down at the garden, where the roses climbed the walls like secrets waiting to be told. Her heart whispered of a stranger who worked in silence, whose eyes had spoken more than Elias's polished words ever could.
And though she did not yet understand it, Melissa knew that the path before her would not be the one her family had laid out. It would be a path forged by truth, a truth that would demand sacrifice, but also offer a gift greater than the world's applause.