Eleanor rose before dawn as she had every day since becoming Viscountess. The manor was still asleep when she sat at the writing desk, candlelight trembling beside the ledgers and correspondence.
Grain inventories, servants' wages, invitations from neighboring estates, and every detail passed through Eleanor's hands now. She checked every figure twice, her fingers aching and her eyes burning, because mistakes were unforgivable.
By the time the household stirred, Eleanor had already settled disputes between servants, approved repairs on the west wing roof, and drafted a political refusal to a noblewoman who demanded more than the estate could spare.
Eleanor overlooked the time and day that had passed since she was occupied by an extreme workload.
"Ah, I want to die," Eleanor murmured to herself as she looked up at the ceiling, feeling the exhaustion seeping into her skin. She stood in the receiving room when Richard entered, boots echoing against the marble floor.
"You're late," Richard said flatly, glancing at the documents stacked neatly beside her.
"I was overseeing the kitchens," Eleanor replied, her voice careful. "The supply cost has risen. I adjusted the menus so we won't exceed—"
Richard waved a dismissive hand. "Bianca never needed to explain herself this much."
The words struck like a slap.
Eleanor lowered her gaze. "I'm only trying to ensure the estate runs smoothly."
"Smoothly?" Richard scoffed. He picked up one of the letters and scanned it briefly before tossing it back onto the table. "Bianca managed three estates at once and still had time to host proper gatherings. You can barely manage one household without looking exhausted."
Eleanor looked down. Her fingers curled into her skirt. 'That's why she died from too much exhaustion! You spoke like it's a moral failing!' She thought in her head.
"I have arranged a meeting with the tenant farmers this afternoon," Eleanor continued, ignoring Richard's harsh words as she inhaled deeply to contain her emotions. "They're worried about the harvest."
Richard frowned. "Why do you bother with their worries? Bianca knew peasants complained regardless. You're too soft."
Something in Eleanor's chest cracked, not loudly enough for anyone else to hear, but it splintered all the time. She bit her lips to avoid snapping at the man before her.
"I'll try my best," Eleanor replied, avoiding Richard's eyes.
Richard scoffed again before turning around and leaving the room. The atmosphere immediately lightened when he was gone.
Eleanor covered her mouth to prevent sound from escaping as tears rolled down her cheeks. She wanted the ground to eat her up and vanish, but she couldn't since Ella was also in the manor.
"I need to be strong… for Ella," Eleanor aggressively wiped the tears as she scurried out the door.
That afternoon, Eleanor stood in the courtyard as farmers bowed and spoke. She listened, nodded, reassured them, and promised fair adjustments and payments where she could.
When the farmers left, gratitude shone in their tired eyes.
"The new Viscountess is amazing!"
"She listened to us… unlike the previous one…"
"I thought she was dumb, but she's very smart!"
Those words echoed in the air, but they didn't reach Eleanor's ears.
Rather, when Eleanor was finally alone, her knees nearly gave way. She pressed a hand to her temple as a terrible headache came.
"Ugh, I need to hang on," Eleanor whispered as she drank a glass of water and slumped into the chair. She didn't have a personal maid and would rather be alone than have someone tailing her most of the time.
Later that evening, Eleanor sat at the dinner table across from Richard. They were alone at the long table, candles flickering between them like a bridge from the distance.
"I finalized the household budget," Eleanor spoke after the deafening silence. "If we reduce unnecessary expenses, we can improve the servants' quarters before winter.
Richard didn't look up from his wine. "Bianca understood appearances mattered more than comfort."
Eleanor swallowed. The repeated comparison between her and Bianca, the first wife, was eating her alive. "The servants are part of this household. If they're well, the estate thrives."
Richard slammed his hand on the table, creating a loud, booming sound. He finally looked up at Eleanor, his eyes were sharp and cold. "You speak as if you were born noble. Bianca was noble. She knew her place… Yet you, you act mightily as if your blood is clean. You act as if you own this place!!!"
The room seemed to tilt.
Eleanor's breath hitched. She tried to steady it, but her hands began to tremble. "I am doing my best," she said, voice barely above a whisper.
Richard laughed one, humorless. "Your best is still a poor imitation of her."
Something inside Eleanor broke, a crack.
Eleanor stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. Her heart pounded so violently she thought it might tear free and her vision narrowed, the edges darkening.
Several questions flooded into Eleanor's mind.
'Am I useless?'
'Why's everything I do wrong?'
'Am I that incompetent?'
"I can't—" Eleanor spoke, pressing her palm against her chest. "I can't breathe."
Richard sighed, irritated. "Don't start being dramatic. Bianca never had these fits."
Eleanor's legs buckled, and she caught herself against the table. Tears slipped down her cheeks and they were unstoppable.
"I carry this house on my back," Eleanor said, her voice shaking. "I haven't slept properly in weeks! And this is how you treat me!"
Richard stood as well. His expression hardened. "If you cannot handle the role, then perhaps you should have stayed what you were."
His words were absolute.
Eleanor looked at him then, not as a wife or a Viscountess, but as a woman standing at the edge of something dark and endless. Her sobs escaped before she could even stop them.
Richard turned away. "Compose yourself. I won't have the servants see you like this. You look pathetic." Then he left the dining hall without another word.
Eleanor sank back into her chair, shoulders shaking as the vast room swallowed her grief. The silence pressed in, heavy and suffocating as Bianca's name repeated in her thoughts.
"If you yearn for Bianca that badly. I'll make sure you meet her sooner than later," Eleanor whispered and her lips cracked a wicked smile.