The Engagement Announcement
Clara sat alone in the waiting room.
Surrounded by grand colors, the chandelier's light cast gold across the walls.
A fire crackled softly in the fireplace, tall curtains framing the room in quiet elegance.
And there—standing in still grace—was a grand piano.
Its polished surface reflected her figure.
She looked beautiful in that white dress.
But her mind was far from the room.
It stayed behind, at home—
Thinking of her brother.
She closed her eyes… and then came a whisper.
"Forgive me…"
Then her eyes flickered to the door. Then, back to the pale silk of her gloves.
Her breaths were soft, measured. Her heart was not. It fluttered—too fast.
Beyond the door, voices slipped through the walls like whispers of silk.
Hushed. Almost admiring. But beneath the careful words, the edges were sharp.
"She looks lovely, doesn't she?"
"A shame, really, marrying into a family like that." A delicate scoff—bitter beneath its politeness.
"Well, it's not like she had a choice."
Clara's fingers tightened in her lap.
She bit the inside of her cheek.
But her posture remained poised—back straight, chin tilted.
Composed, just as her mother had taught her.
Yet her heart. Beating to fast.
Her gaze flicked to the door. Again.
Her breath shivered faintly. Then—a knock.
Soft, careful, but loud enough that her heart stuttered.
Too fast. Too loud.
"Lady Clara," a voice called—smooth, steady, yet blurred at the edges.
"Presenting your husband-to-be—Lord Sebastian Vale."
The words settled into her chest, cold and sharp.
Husband-to-be. For a moment, she couldn't breathe.
Half of her wanted to run—knees aching to move.
The other half—the dutiful daughter—sat perfectly still, calm beneath the rage.
The door creaked open.
Clara's eyes fixed on the gilded doorknob. Breathless. Hands cold.
And then—he stepped inside.
Tall. Steady. Dark hair tousled like a storm.
Eyes the color of marble green—cool, veined, unreadable.
Is this… Sebastian Vale?
This is it. No turning back.
She dared to lift her gaze—just for a heartbeat.
His eyes, warm yet unreadable. Lips pressed into a faint line.
Not cruel. Not cold. Just… careful.
"Don't tremble," she scolded herself, throat tight.
"You're a Bellamy. You can't tremble."
But her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
His voice slipped through the silence—soft, warm.
As she lowered her gaze,
his footsteps echoed—
a sharp stab, clicking closer and closer,
like a nightmare chasing her through a dream.
Then—a voice.
"Lady Clara Bellamy." A gloved hand extended.
Fingers steady. Eyes unblinking.
"May I take your hand?"
There was hesitation in his tone. A breath of uncertainty, almost unreadable.
Clara shivered, fingers curling faintly in her lap.
For a moment, she froze she can't move.
Then—slowly, carefully—she extended her hand.
His fingers closed around hers.
Warm. Steady. Her breath hitched.
Eyes flickered to their joined hands.
Her heart… fluttered painfully.
His gloves were soft—calloused, but gentle.
Yet something inside her felt uneasy. She wanted to cry.
But she held it in. And then—he knelt.
Her fingers trembled in his grasp. But he held firm.
A ring caught the candlelight—dark sapphire, silver vines curling around the stone.
His voice slipped through the silence.
Soft. Unsteady. A breath above a whisper.
"Thank you, my lady."
She couldn't find the words.
So she just nodded and closed her eyes.
The Grand Ball
Chandeliers glowed soft and golden.
The air was thick with whispers, the lingering notes of a waltz weaving through the grand hall.
Lord Damien Vale stepped forward, voice smooth and steady.
"Let the ball begin."
Nobles dipped their heads, exchanging greetings.
Gentlemen's voices echoed, asking partners to dance.
Soft giggles and careful smiles drifted through the air.
Amidst it all—
A hand.
Warm. Steady.
"My lady, may I have this dance?"
Clara's breath caught. It was Sebastian. So she nodded.
The music swelled, and Sebastian led her gently.
His touch was warm—comforting. Yet it left her breathless.
Then soon others joined in.
But they faded into a blur.
It was just him and her.
Clara's gaze stayed fixed—somewhere beyond.
Her heart pounded painfully.
Then—
A touch beneath her chin.
Guiding. Not forcing.
"Look at me."
Her cheeks flushed. Hands trembled.
His hold was warm. Steady. For the first time—she saw someone real.
Someone who deserved to be loved.
"You look beautiful," he murmured.
Her breath hitched. The raw honesty in his voice—undeniable.
"Thank you, my lord."
A small smile. Almost teasing.
"It's Sebastian." He said, calmly.
For a moment—she was lost.
The dance was light.
As if they were floating.
After the dance, Clara stood alone. At the balcony.
The night air was crisp, the distant hum of laughter spilling through the ballroom doors.
She touched her chin—the spot where his fingers had lingered.
"Is this real?" she thought.
"He wasn't… bad at all."
A fantasy played in her mind—imagining Sebastian with her.
He wasn't like the rest of his family.
Kind. Gentle…
And just like that, she was lost in her thoughts.
Then..
A voice—smooth, warm. Come from behind her.
"May I join you, my lady?"
She gasped, turning too quickly.
"Yes," she blurted—then cleared her throat.
"I-I mean… you may, my lord."
A faint blush warmed her cheek.
Sebastian chuckled, stepping beside her. Close. But not too close.
to to make her nervous.
"You can drop the formality, Dove."
Her breath caught.
"I'm yours."
The words struck her.
Her cheeks burned. Her pulse pounded.
His eyes gazed upon her—curious, searching, filled with wonder.
Then he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant,
"Are you afraid of the Vale family?"
Clara stiffened.
If that question had been asked to any other noble, they surely would have said yes.
But Clara… she answered softly,
"No."
And for a moment—
They stood beneath the vast sky.
Letting the silence speak.
And that's the story…
Of how I fell in love with Sebastian Vale.
Not for his name.
But for who he truly was—
A man who deserved to be loved.
Ashley's vision blurred with unshed tears.
Clara smiled gently, holding her hands.
"You too will fall in love one day. It's fate."
She had no idea.
No idea that both Ashley and Sebastian had feelings for each other.
And that alone made Ashley's heart ache.
Her voice trembled.
"What if fate betrays you?"
Clara's smile softened. Warm. Unshaken.
"Then… I'll accept it."
The words shattered Ashley.
Broke her.
Clara poured her tea with quiet grace.
"It's alright. Get some rest." A lighthearted laugh.
"That sickness of yours might turn into lovesickness if we continue."
"I'll take my leave. I need to check on Sebastian."
She offered a polite smile before stepping away, leaving Ashley alone.
In her thoughts—expression haunted, distant, almost trembling.
Every time she remembered Sebastian…
Clara's innocent smile seemed to haunt her.
The night air was sharp—cold enough to bite.
Clara stepped outside, the scent of salt and distant storms curling around her.
Her breath clouded before her as she moved forward—slow, hesitant.
And then—she saw him.
A lone figure, standing at the edge of the cliff.
The wind howled, waves crashing violently below.
Sebastian.
Silhouetted against the dark sky, his posture was rigid—shoulders bowed beneath an invisible weight.
A storm inside a man.
Her chest tightened. Something inside her fractured, the pieces cutting deep.
She could see it—the way his hands trembled, the way his gaze stayed locked on the sea, on something beyond his eyes. Searching for something.
As if he were afraid of reality itself.
"Sebastian," she called, voice smooth but soft at the edges—careful, measured.
He turned slightly—just enough for her to see it.
The shadows darkening his gaze. Haunted. Raw. Hiding too much.
Yet even then, he said nothing.
Closer she taken a step closer. hesitated,
"Sebastian… it's cold out here." A whisper, gentle, almost pleading.
"Let's go inside." She asked softly.
But he didn't react.
His gaze stayed on the horizon—distant, unreachable.
The silence stretched between them—suffocating.
Yet Clara didn't pull back.
She took a step forward, the only sound around them was the whisper of the waves.
Softly. Carefully. As if one wrong movement might shatter him.
"May I join you?" she asked, her voice a breath, barely a whisper.
He didn't answer.
But he didn't refuse.
And that was enough.
She lowered herself beside him, the wind biting.
Yet his silence ached more.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
The wind howled.
The sea crashed mercilessly below.
She could sense it—his cry buried deep in his chest.
Yet he had no words to say. So she waited.
Beside him—everything was quiet.
Unbearably so.
Slowly, Clara turned to him.
Soft. Unwavering.
She reached out—fingertips brushing his hand.
Cold.
But she didn't let go.
Instead, she cradled it between her own—delicate, unyielding.
Anchoring him to this moment.
To her.
His fingers twitched. A slight, almost imperceptible pull—
As if he wanted to retreat.
As if he feared he might break her—like a promise he could no longer keep.
But Clara only held tighter.
The tighter she held, the tighter his chest became.
Yet still, Clara refused to let him disappear into the dark alone.
A breath shuddered through her lips as she lifted his hand to her face,
pressing it against her cheek.
she leaned in.
She knew he was hiding something.
Secrets buried deep, ones that clawed at him until he couldn't breathe.
Silence filled with a thousand words he couldn't say—truths that might break them both.
But even then—she stayed.
If love was agony, then she would endure it.
If this was the cost of loving him, she would bear it.
If he chose to break her, she would shatter with grace.
Because to leave him alone in the dark…
Was a cruelty she could not bear.
For a moment, the world held its breath.
No wind.
No waves.
No sound.
Just them…
Sebastian's breath shivered.
His fingers twitched against her cheek— He pulled it away.
Clara look at him. Waited. What he might say.
"I can't." voice low. He didn't dare look at Clara's face.
His hand gripped the metal railing tightly.
"I have Vale blood, Clara," he continued.
The words cracked in the air like something final.
Her breaths unsteady, but sure.
Her eyes soft. Guilty then.
A thousand promises without a single word.
"I won't leave." She replied.
A whisper in the dark.
"No matter what you are… I won't leave you alone."
She reached for his hand on the railing,
and gently placed hers on top of it.
He said nothing. He didn't move.
His gaze stayed locked on the Endless sea.
Then—his breath shuddered.
Eyes glistening beneath the moonlight.
"You're wrong," he whispered.
"No matter what, Dove… Vale blood will always betray you in the end."
Soft words, but bitter—heavy with self-loathing.
Not for her.
For himself.
A cry—without a tear.
His hand twitched under hers. Wanting to pull back.
Ashamed. Afraid.
But Clara's hold did not waver.
Fingers tightening.
Refusing to let him go.
"Then let it," she breathed, voice trembling but firm.
"Even if the whole world turns against me… I'll stay."
Her eyes glistened, determined.
Her gaze never wavered—just like a vow she'd keep.
Yet he felt like he had betrayed her. So he said:
"Don't," he choked.
Pain bled through every word.
"Don't say that. I can't—"
His voice fractured.
Raw. Desperate.
But Clara only leaned in.
Her head on Sebastian's shoulder.
Both her hands wrapping around his.
"You don't have to be alone," she whispered, her breath a warm assurance.
"Not anymore."
For the first time—
Sebastian's resolve broke.
He tried to believe in her.
Finally, just a single
tear slipped free—silent, unbidden.
She was there. Just there.
For him.
They stayed like that.
Two souls clinging to each other beneath the endless sky.
in a cold and empty night.
The darkness wrapped around them—
But neither pulled away.
Next chapter 12 Lullaby