WARNING

This story contains character deaths, sexual themes, graphic violence, swearing, triggers and psychological themes.

Please read at your own discretion

CHAPTER 12

The late afternoon air was crisp, carrying with it the earthy scent of fallen leaves and a faint chill that hinted at the coming winter. Anna stood on the path outside the mansion, her gloved hands clasped tightly in front of her as she waited for the coachman to bring the carriage around. The long shadows of the bare trees stretched toward her like reaching hands, a reminder of time slipping away, urging her to act.

Behind her, the heavy door of the mansion creaked open, and Kristoff emerged followed by his aide. She turned slightly, catching the worry etched deep into his features, his brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. He crossed the distance between them quickly, his boots crunching against the gravel.

"You really don't have to do this, Anna," he said, his voice low, almost pleading. "We'll find another way."

Anna glanced at him, her resolve unwavering, though her heart ached at the sight of his concern. She could see it in the way his shoulders sagged, how his hands twitched as though he wanted to reach out and stop her but couldn't bring himself to.

"Kristoff," she began gently, though her tone held a steel edge, "you won't make me change my mind."

The words hung between them, heavy and unyielding, like a boulder in a stream refusing to be moved by the current. She could see the protest forming on his lips, but she turned away, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, where the carriage was finally pulling into view.

She couldn't let him stop her—not now. Not when she felt the weight of the territory's troubles pressing down on her like a thick, suffocating fog. She couldn't sit idle, pretending everything would somehow work out. This was her home too, her responsibility. How could she claim to love these people, to care for them, if she didn't act when they were on the brink of hardship?

Kristoff sighed, a sound heavy with defeat. "Anna, I know you want to help, but... it's dangerous to rely on others like this. What if they turn you away? Or worse, see it as weakness?"

Anna turned back to him, her emerald eyes sharp as glass. "What if they don't?" she countered. "What if someone out there is willing to help, and I just sat here doing nothing? Kristoff, I have to try."

Her voice softened, and she stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on his arm. "You've been carrying this weight on your own for too long. I can see it in your eyes, in how you barely sleep anymore. Let me do this, not just for you, but for all of us."

Kristoff said nothing, his jaw tightening as he glanced away. She knew him too well, could see the war raging in his mind—the battle between his instinct to protect her and his understanding that she wouldn't be swayed. His silence was its own kind of surrender.

"I'll be back after the tea party," Anna said, her voice firm but laced with a tenderness meant to soothe him.

The carriage drew closer, the horses' hooves beating a steady rhythm against the path, a sound that felt like a countdown. Anna drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders, the weight of it a small comfort against the chill creeping into her bones.

She watched Kristoff carefully, her heart aching at the sight of him standing there, looking as if he wanted to argue more but couldn't find the words. She thought of the burdens he bore—the failing crops, the dwindling supplies, the lives depending on his decisions. He was trying so hard to shield her from the storm, but he didn't understand that she couldn't stand idly by while he fought it alone.

As the carriage came to a stop, Anna turned to face him fully, her hand reaching up to brush against his cheek for the briefest moment.

"I'll be careful," she promised. "And I'll come back with something—anything—to make this winter a little less harsh."

Kristoff's eyes searched hers, a mixture of worry, frustration, and love swirling within them. He didn't speak, just gave a small, reluctant nod. It was enough.

The coachman opened the door, and Anna stepped inside, casting one last glance at her husband before settling into her seat. As the carriage began to move, she felt the gravity of what lay ahead pull at her chest. Her hands trembled slightly in her lap, though she clenched them together to steady herself.

She didn't know if the noblewomen would help, or if they'd even take her seriously. But she had to try. For Kristoff. For their people. For the home they were building together. As the mansion disappeared from view, she whispered to herself, "We'll get through this. We have to."

The delicate clinking of porcelain teacups filled the air like the flutter of butterfly wings, soft and deceptively innocuous. Tatiana sat among the assembled ladies, her spine as straight as a rod of tempered steel, her hands poised gracefully on her lap despite the simmering tension beneath her skin.

Their gazes were needles, piercing her composure with every flicker of their painted lashes. She could feel them crawling over her, dissecting her like a prize pheasant on a silver platter.

The smiles they offered her were syrupy sweet, yet their edges cut like shards of glass. They spoke in low murmurs, words just faint enough to remain indistinct, but the meaning was clear in the way their eyes darted toward her and then quickly away.

Tatiana's lips curved into a serene smile, one she had perfected over years of courtly life. Inside, her irritation churned, a storm of biting winds and bitter frost threatening to escape her careful control.

"These lowly vipers," she thought, her gaze sweeping the table as though they were mere insects scuttling in her presence.

Their pity was a cold, cloying thing, wrapping around her like wet silk, heavy and suffocating. She could feel it, the unspoken whispers of her impending downfall, her engagement to Duke Overland treated as though it were a tragedy for idle entertainment.

"As if they could ever truly understand the weight of my position," she mused, the thought sharp and bitter, like biting into an unripe fruit.

"Lady Tatiana," one of them finally spoke, a woman with soft curls and a saccharine voice that barely concealed the venom underneath. "It must be so exciting to be engaged to Duke Overland. He's such a... busy man these days, isn't he? I do hope the rumors aren't too much of a bother for you." Her words were wrapped in faux concern, but the glint in her eyes betrayed her enjoyment.

Tatiana's smile widened imperceptibly, a weapon as sharp as any blade. "Oh, rumors are a staple of court life, are they not?" she replied smoothly, her tone light as air. "But I find it amusing how easily some are swayed by idle gossip. Of course, I pay no mind to tales spun by those with nothing better to occupy their time." She took a delicate sip of her tea, watching the other woman's face tighten slightly, like a doll with its string pulled too far.

Another voice joined in, this one from a younger lady with wide, guileless eyes. "Still, it must be difficult, Lady Tatiana. They say the Lady of the Bjorgman estate is quite... captivating. For her to catch the attention of the elusive Duke Overland. I do hope she hasn't been causing you any distress. We all admire your strength, truly."

Tatiana's grip on her teacup tightened ever so slightly, though her expression remained unbothered. Captivating, they say. A delicate way of suggesting that she's a threat, that I'm being overshadowed. Her annoyance surged, a slow boil beneath the surface, but she answered with the precision of a fencer delivering a calculated strike.

"Distress? Hardly," she said with a soft laugh, the sound carrying a subtle edge. "After all, the Duke has always been clear about his priorities. I'm certain those who misunderstand his actions are simply... uninformed. I find it rather sad, really. How little some people truly comprehend the responsibilities of those in his position."

The ladies exchanged brief glances, their smiles faltering for just a moment. Tatiana reveled in the flicker of discomfort she saw in their eyes. It wasn't enough to soothe her completely, but it was a balm to her wounded pride.

Let them gossip. Let them feast on their scraps of scandal. They are nothing more than crows circling a battlefield, waiting for the chance to pick at what remains.

And yet, despite her composure, a small ember of doubt smoldered deep within her chest. It was a wretched thing, unwelcome and persistent, whispering questions she refused to entertain.

What if the rumors held more truth than she dared admit? What if Jack, with his visits to the Bjorgman estate, had truly cast her aside in favor of another?

She pushed the thought away, burying it beneath a layer of ice. There was no room for weakness here. Not among these women, who would seize upon any sign of vulnerability like wolves scenting blood. No, she would remain untouchable, her smile a fortress and her words her armor.

The conversation shifted, the ladies moving on to discuss the latest fashions and court events, but Tatiana barely heard them. She sat among them, every inch the poised and untouchable noblewoman, yet her thoughts churned like a stormy sea, her mind circling back to the unanswered questions that loomed like shadows in the corners of her mind.

"They may whisper and judge," she thought, lifting her teacup with practiced grace. "But I will not falter. I am Tatiana of the Fischer family, and I will not be brought low by the idle words of fools."

The air in the room seemed to tighten further when the hostess glided to the door. Tatiana didn't bother looking up at first, focusing instead on the faint swirl of tea in her cup, her fingers tracing the delicate porcelain edge as if it could anchor her in place. But the moment the name 'Madam Anna Bjorgman' reached her ears, her grip faltered, and her gaze snapped to the door.

There she was, framed in the doorway like some gilded portrait.

Anna Bjorgman, the wife of the Marquis, exuded an aura of effortless grace and charm. The very sight of her set Tatiana's teeth on edge. Her chest tightened as if a serpent had coiled around her ribcage, squeezing tighter with each polite step Anna took toward the hostess. The murmur of voices around the table shifted, and Tatiana felt the weight of the other ladies' eyes on her. They weren't just watching—they were relishing this, their gazes gleaming like predators sensing fresh blood in the water.

Tatiana forced herself to breathe, though it felt like inhaling shards of glass. Of course! She thought bitterly, her mind a storm of resentment and fury.

Of course, she would come. She, who has everything I should have. That woman who dares to smile and play the part of the perfect noble while her household shelters the woman who has been shamelessly vying for Jack's attention.

Her nails dug into the delicate fabric of her dress, but her face betrayed nothing more than the faintest stiffening of her expression.

The hostess, oblivious or perhaps delighting in the tension, beamed as she led Anna to an empty chair—directly across from Tatiana.

Tatiana's stomach twisted as Anna's warm smile swept across the table, her friendliness a stark contrast to the icy contempt simmering beneath Tatiana's surface. Anna greeted each lady in turn, her tone light and welcoming, as though she hadn't a single care in the world.

Her voice was soft honey, but to Tatiana, it was a sickeningly sweet poison.

When Anna's gaze finally settled on her, Tatiana mustered the calmest smile she could, though it felt as though her face might crack under the strain.

"Lady Tatiana," Anna said, her tone genuinely pleasant. "It's been too long."

"Madam Bjorgman," Tatiana replied smoothly, her words laced with an edge so fine it was nearly imperceptible. "How kind of you to join us. I didn't expect you'd have the time, what with the... demands of your estate. It must be terribly overwhelming."

Anna's smile didn't falter, and instead, she answered warmly. "It is, but I find time to enjoy moments like these. After all, connections among noblewomen are so important, don't you agree?"

The other ladies leaned in slightly, their gazes darting between Tatiana and Anna like spectators at a duel. Tatiana could almost hear their unspoken glee, the way they drank in the tension like fine wine.

Vultures. She thought darkly, her anger smoldering beneath her calm facade. They're just waiting for me to falter, to give them something to whisper about once this wretched gathering is over.

Tatiana tilted her head slightly, her smile sharpening like a blade. "Indeed. I suppose it's easier to attend these gatherings when one isn't burdened by… personal complications. Not everyone has that luxury." Her words hung in the air like a poisonous mist, subtle yet unmistakable.

Anna didn't rise to the bait, though Tatiana noted the flicker of something—annoyance? Hurt?—in her otherwise serene expression. "That's true," Anna replied evenly. "Though I believe challenges make us stronger, don't you? They teach us resilience and grace."

The other ladies chuckled softly, their laughter light but laden with meaning. Tatiana felt the heat of their attention, their amusement at the delicate verbal sparring. Her irritation deepened, her composure threatening to crack like thin ice beneath a heavy weight.

Resilience and grace. Spoken like someone who's never truly had to fight for what's hers.

The conversation continued, each exchange polite on the surface but brimming with hushed hostility. Tatiana's words grew sharper, her backhanded remarks more pointed, yet Anna deflected them with an infuriating ease. The other ladies chimed in occasionally, their comments carefully neutral but tinged with amusement, as though they were enjoying a particularly entertaining performance.

Beneath her calm exterior, Tatiana seethed. Her anger was a fire, consuming her thoughts and leaving no room for reason. She hated the way Anna sat there, poised and unbothered, as though she were untouchable.

She doesn't belong here. She doesn't deserve to sit across from me, to look at me as though we're equals.

Anna sipped her tea, though the sweetness of the brew failed to soothe the bitter tension swirling in the air. She had been trying to piece together Tatiana's animosity for the past half hour, but no matter how many angles she looked at it, she couldn't quite understand.

Why is she so hostile? Anna wondered, her gaze subtly studying Tatiana's poised, icy demeanor. This is only the second time we've spoken outside official settings. What could I have done to warrant such... venom?

Tatiana's smile, tight and polished, was like a blade hidden beneath silk. Her words carried a faintly sharp edge, never outright cruel but always steeped in an undertone of disdain. Anna knew what it was like to exchange polite barbs—nobility was, after all, a world of veiled warfare. But Tatiana's hostility didn't feel like sport. It felt personal.

Yet, Anna refused to let it rattle her. She doesn't know me. Whatever this is, it's not about me. It's about her.

As Anna set her teacup down, her fingers brushing against the delicate porcelain, she reminded herself of the purpose of her visit. She hadn't come here to trade insults or dig for gossip. She had come to seek aid for the Bjorgman estate. Her people were going to face a harsh winter, and she couldn't afford to lose focus, no matter how much Tatiana seemed to relish baiting her.

But just as Anna was gathering her thoughts to steer the conversation toward her territory, one of the ladies—a viscountess with a penchant for stirring the pot—leaned forward. Her voice, saccharine with curiosity, cut through the polite hum of conversation.

"Madam Bjorgman," she began, "there's been talk of a lady residing in your estate. Quite mysterious, isn't it?"

Anna's spine stiffened, though she masked it with a serene smile. She could feel the shift in the room's energy as all eyes turned to her, their curiosity sharp and glinting like sunlight on glass. But none were as piercing as Tatiana's. The woman's gaze was alight with interest, her lips curving ever so slightly in what Anna could only describe as satisfaction.

Anna knew Elsa was a hot topic in the Social Circle. But that's only because of Jack. No—it was only because of her. She was the one who asked Jack to help with the recovery of her sister. And yet she hadn't thought about this possibility.

"Indeed, there is a lady staying with us," Anna replied carefully, her tone warm yet measured. She set her teacup down gently, the soft clink breaking the stillness in the air. "She's my sister, actually. She's staying in the estate for a while."

Anna felt the weight of the room's collective interest press against her like a heavy cloak. She knew they wanted more, that their minds were spinning tales to fill the gaps in her explanation.

But she wouldn't give them anything else. Elsa's story was not theirs to dissect or gossip about.

Tatiana's smile sharpened. "Your sister?" she echoed, her voice honeyed with faux curiosity. "How intriguing. I suppose it's not every day a marquis's wife opens her home to family in such a... delicate manner."

Anna met Tatiana's gaze, her own expression unwavering. "Family is family," she said simply. "We do what we can for those we love."

The viscountess leaned forward again, her curiosity undeterred. "She must be quite the guest. I suppose your mansion is lively during the winter holidays with extra people."

Anna's fingers tightened imperceptibly on her lap. She chose her words carefully, her tone as calm as the still surface of a lake. "Well, yes."

Tatiana tilted her head, her smile still in place but her eyes gleaming with something sharper. "Interesting," she said. "I imagine it's quite the burden, having another person to care for in these trying times."

Anna felt the heat of irritation rise in her chest, but she refused to let it show. She's baiting me. She wants me to falter, to give her something to pounce on.

"It's no burden at all," Anna replied, her voice steady. "In fact, it's a privilege. She's my sister, after all, and someone I cherish."

The ladies murmured softly, their whispers swirling like leaves caught in a breeze. Anna's gaze flickered briefly to the viscountess, then back to Tatiana. She wasn't naïve—she could see the unspoken questions in their eyes, the hunger for scandal. But she wouldn't let them have it.

Still, as she looked at Tatiana, Anna couldn't help but wonder what had driven the woman's hostility. Was it simply the rumors? The whispers that Tatiana's engagement to Duke Overland was political, that his visits to the Bjorgman estate had set tongues wagging? Or was it something deeper, something Anna couldn't yet see?

As the conversation shifted and the ladies began discussing other matters, Anna felt a flicker of relief. But the tension lingered, a subtle undercurrent beneath the polite chatter. She could still feel Tatiana's gaze on her, heavy and probing, and she knew this wouldn't be the last time they'd cross swords.

For now, though, Anna focused on the purpose of her visit. Whatever Tatiana's motives were, Anna wouldn't let them distract her. Elsa needed her. The estate needed her. And no amount of veiled hostility or whispered gossip would change that.

The sound of teacups clinking faded into the background as Anna walked alongside Lady Jasmine, one of the few women Anna felt she could truly trust in this sea of masked intentions. The two of them had found a quieter corner of the garden, away from prying ears, their breaths forming soft puffs in the crisp air.

"Thank you so much, Jasmine," Anna said, her voice earnest as they strolled. "I wouldn't be asking if it weren't absolutely necessary. This winter will be harder than any we've faced before."

Jasmine waved a delicate hand, her jeweled rings catching the light. "Oh, Anna, you needn't thank me so profusely. You and the Marquis have been nothing but gracious to me and my family. My father still speaks of how your grandfather helped him secure his estate during those turbulent years. It's only fair we repay such kindness."

Anna's chest loosened slightly, the weight of her worries lifting just a fraction. "Even so, the fact that you're willing to help... It means more to me than I can express."

Jasmine smiled warmly, placing a gloved hand on Anna's arm. "Two months' worth of rations should be manageable. Father has always been diligent about keeping a surplus, and we'll hardly notice its absence."

Anna's eyes stung with the beginnings of tears, but she blinked them away quickly. She couldn't afford to show such vulnerability, not here, not now. Instead, she clasped Jasmine's hand tightly. "You have no idea how much this will help our people. Thank you, Jasmine. Truly."

As they continued their walk toward the carriages, Anna felt the conversation shift to lighter topics—Jasmine's recent trip to the capital, the latest trends in court fashion. But even as she laughed and nodded at Jasmine's stories, Anna couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

Her eyes darted toward the main gathering. There, by the ornate fountain, stood Tatiana. Her expression was perfectly composed, but her gaze was like a hawk's, sharp and unyielding. Anna could feel the weight of it, like a thorn pressed against her skin.

She's watching me. Why? What could she possibly hope to gain?

The moment passed, but the tension lingered as Anna waited by the carriage with Jasmine. The cool breeze bit at her cheeks, but she hardly noticed, her mind preoccupied with Jasmine's kindness and Tatiana's piercing stare.

Jasmine offered her a final reassuring smile as her carriage was brought forward. "Do let me know if there's anything else I can do, Anna. And don't hesitate to visit, please. You're always welcome at our estate."

Anna returned the smile, though her heart felt heavy with conflicting emotions. "Thank you, Jasmine. I'll write to you soon."

As Jasmine stepped into her carriage and the horses began to pull away, Anna turned to wait for her own. She barely had time to take a breath before she felt a sharp jolt against her shoulder.

Tatiana.

The Duchess-to-be's lips curled into a tight, venomous smile as she stepped closer, her voice low and biting. "You need to learn to control your sister, Madam Bjorgman."

Anna's stomach dropped, but she held her ground. "I beg your pardon?" she replied, her tone calm, though her heart beat like a drum inside her chest.

"You heard me," Tatiana hissed, her words dripping with disdain. "That sister of yours, the so-called 'guest' in your estate, has been nothing but a thorn in my side. Her shameless attempts to seduce Jack are beneath even her. If you don't put a stop to it, I will."

Anna's breath caught, her anger rising like a storm brewing on the horizon. But she forced herself to remain composed. "Elsa is my sister," she said evenly. "And she has done nothing to deserve such accusations."

Tatiana leaned in, her eyes alight with a cruel fire. "If Jack continues visiting your estate, I will do everything in my power to ruin you, Anna. Socially, politically, financially. I don't care. Your estate will crumble under the weight of scandal, and you will have no one to blame but yourself."

Anna stared at Tatiana, her mind racing. The sheer audacity of the woman was staggering, her threats as bold as they were baseless. But beneath her fury, Anna felt a pang of sadness.

Is this what jealousy does to people? It twists them, poisons them until they can't see reason.

She straightened her back, her voice calm but firm. "You are free to think what you will, Lady Tatiana. But I will not tolerate baseless accusations against my family. If you have an issue with Jack, I suggest you speak with him directly."

Tatiana's eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, neither woman spoke, the tension between them thick and suffocating. Then, with a sharp turn of her heel, Tatiana strode away, her skirts billowing behind her like storm clouds.

As Anna's carriage pulled up, she climbed in slowly, her hands trembling despite her best efforts to stay composed. She looked out the window as the estate disappeared behind her, her thoughts churning like restless waves. The carriage rumbled along the cobblestone road, and Anna pressed her hands together tightly in her lap.

She had so many things to think about. She didn't want another one to plague her mind. Especially not Tatiana.