Chapter 14: A Diamond's Choice

The morning sun streamed through the grand windows of the Hastings mansion, casting golden patterns on the pristine marble floors. Emma sat by the window, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her teacup. Eleanor entered the room with an air of excitement, her lace shawl draped elegantly over her shoulders.

"Emma, darling, I have marvelous news," Eleanor began, her voice light with anticipation.

Emma raised an eyebrow, bracing herself. "What is it this time, Mama?"

"We've been invited to a ball tonight," Eleanor said, her smile widening. "The Duchess of Blackwood herself sent the invitation. It's a significant event, my dear."

Emma groaned, sinking further into her chair. "Another ball? What is it with this town and its obsession with gatherings and dancing? Must I go?"

Eleanor's expression softened, but her determination remained. "Emma, you know how important these events are for your debut season. You are the Diamond of the Season, and your presence is expected. Besides, the Duchess is not someone you want to disappoint."

Emma huffed but eventually nodded. "Fine, I'll go. But I'm not going to enjoy it."

Eleanor smiled, patting her daughter's hand. "You'll thank me one day, darling."

Harrison sat in his study, a book open on his lap, though his eyes were distant. The stillness of the room was interrupted when Beatrice and Virginia burst in, their gowns swishing as they hurried to his side.

"Harrison!" Beatrice exclaimed, her cheeks flushed. "You're not planning on staying home tonight, are you?"

He glanced up, surprised by their sudden appearance. "Why would I go to yet another ball? I've had enough of those for a lifetime."

Virginia, who was Beatrice close friend, ever the voice of reason, folded her arms. "You might reconsider. Word has it that Prince Adrian is planning something significant tonight."

Harrison frowned. "And why should that concern me?"

Beatrice stepped closer, her eyes alight with mischief. "Because, dear brother, he's planning to propose to Emma. Surely you wouldn't want to miss that."

Harrison's heart sank. The thought of Emma—his Emma—pledging herself to another man made his chest tighten. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "That's absurd."

Virginia smirked knowingly. "Absurd or not, it's happening. The least you can do is be there."

Without another word, Harrison strode out of the room, his resolve building with every step.

The ballroom of the Blackwood estate was a masterpiece of grandeur. Crystal chandeliers sparkled like stars, and the air buzzed with laughter and music. Emma arrived with Eleanor and Alfred, her expression calm despite the fluttering in her chest. She scanned the room, her gaze darting past the prince, hoping he wouldn't notice her.

But Adrian was determined. He approached her with a practiced smile, bowing low. "Miss Hastings, you look ravishing tonight."

"Your Highness," Emma replied curtly, avoiding his gaze.

Before she could excuse herself, Adrian's voice rose, capturing the attention of the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?"

Emma's breath hitched as all eyes turned to them. Adrian took her hand, lowering himself onto one knee. "Emma Hastings, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

The room erupted in gasps and murmurs. Emma, frozen in shock, could barely breathe. The walls seemed to close in around her. Without thinking, she turned and fled, her gown billowing behind her as she dashed out of the ballroom.

The cool night air hit Emma's face as she stumbled into the garden, her heart pounding. She leaned against a stone bench, her chest heaving.

"Emma!"

She turned to see Harrison striding toward her, his face etched with concern.

"Leave me alone, Harrison," she said, her voice trembling. "I don't have time for this."

He stopped a few paces away, his jaw tight. "You ran out of there like your life depended on it. What happened?"

"Why do you care?" she snapped, tears welling in her eyes. "You're the one who's always so distant."

His expression softened as he stepped closer. "Emma, stop. Just listen to me."

"I don't want to listen!" she cried, pushing him away. "Everything is too much. The prince, the expectations, this whole season—"

Before she could finish, Harrison cupped her face, his eyes searching hers. "Emma, I love you."

Her breath caught as his words hung in the air. Without thinking, he leaned in, and their lips met in a searing kiss. They pulled apart, their gazes locked, but the pull was too strong. They kissed again, deeper this time, letting the world fade away.

A sudden voice broke the moment. "What is this?"

They turned to see Clara, her expression a mixture of fury and heartbreak.

"Clara," Harrison began, stepping forward.

She held up a hand. "Don't. Don't try to explain."

"I'm sorry," Harrison said, his voice steady. "I cannot do this. My heart belongs to Emma."

Clara's hands clenched into fists. "You cannot do this to me, Harrison."

Emma, stepping forward, said softly, "Clara, I never meant to hurt you. I—"

"Enough!" Clara interrupted, her voice shaking. "It's not over. Not until I say it is." She turned and stormed off, leaving them alone in the garden once more.

The stillness that followed Clara's retreat was almost deafening. Emma turned away, her arms wrapping around herself as the weight of the moment settled over her. Harrison stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the spot where Clara had disappeared.

"Harrison," Emma whispered, her voice trembling. "What have we done?"

He moved closer, his hands hesitating before gently resting on her shoulders. "We followed our hearts, Emma. For once, we didn't let the world decide for us."

She shook her head, stepping out of his reach. "But at what cost? Clara... she didn't deserve this."

"No, she didn't," he admitted, his tone heavy with regret. "But neither do you deserve to sacrifice your happiness for a marriage that would suffocate you."

Emma's eyes glistened as she looked up at him. "And what about you? What will people say about you breaking off an engagement with someone like Clara?"

He gave a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Let them talk. They'll find something else to gossip about soon enough. I refuse to live my life for their approval, Emma. My heart is yours, and I won't apologize for that."

Her resolve wavered as she searched his face, finding nothing but sincerity in his stormy blue eyes. She wanted to believe him, to let herself be swept away by the love they had been fighting for so long.

But before she could speak, a voice called out from the entrance of the garden. "Emma? Are you here?"

It was Eleanor, her voice laced with urgency. Harrison stepped back, his hand brushing against Emma's as he did.

"You should go," he murmured. "Before she finds us like this."

Emma hesitated, her heart torn between staying and doing what was expected of her. Finally, she nodded, her fingers briefly squeezing his before she turned and walked toward the sound of her mother's voice.

The ballroom was still abuzz with murmurs about Emma's abrupt exit. Adrian stood near the dais, his expression unreadable as he exchanged words with a few of his advisors. The Duchess of Blackwood, meanwhile, worked tirelessly to soothe the crowd, assuring them that everything was under control.

When Emma reentered, escorted by Eleanor, all eyes turned to her. She felt the weight of their stares like a physical burden, but she held her head high, determined not to let her emotions show.

Adrian approached her almost immediately, his smile tight but polite. "Miss Hastings, are you all right? You left so suddenly."

"I'm fine, Your Highness," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "The heat of the room was overwhelming, that's all."

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Of course. I'm glad you're feeling better."

The music resumed, and the guests slowly returned to dancing, though the whispers continued. Eleanor leaned close to Emma, her voice low. "Darling, what happened out there? You disappeared without a word."

"I just needed a moment," Emma replied, avoiding her mother's piercing gaze.

Eleanor frowned but said nothing further, her attention shifting to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, Harrison had returned to the Ashbourne carriage, pacing restlessly outside. Beatrice found him there, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Harrison, what are you doing out here?" she asked.

He stopped, his hands clenching at his sides. "I can't just stand in there while everyone watches Emma like a hawk. This isn't fair to her, Beatrice. None of it is."

Beatrice sighed, folding her arms. "You know what you need to do. Stop waiting for the perfect moment. If you love her, tell her. Fight for her."

"I already have," he said softly. "But it's not just about me. Emma has to want this too—despite the prince, despite the expectations."

Beatrice stepped closer, her voice gentle. "And how will she know she has a choice if you don't show her?"

Her words struck a chord, and Harrison nodded, determination hardening his features.

As the ball wound down, Emma found herself on the balcony, gazing out at the moonlit gardens. The cool breeze was a welcome relief from the oppressive heat of the room. She closed her eyes, letting the night air calm her frayed nerves.

"Emma."

Her eyes snapped open, and she turned to find Harrison standing there, his expression raw and unguarded.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I needed to see you," he replied, stepping closer. "I can't let this night end without telling you something."

Her heart pounded as he took her hands in his. "Emma, I know everything feels impossible right now. The prince, the expectations, the rumors—it's overwhelming. But I need you to know that I love you. And no matter what happens, that won't change."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she shook her head. "Harrison, I don't know if I can do this. The weight of it all—"

"You're stronger than you think," he interrupted, his voice firm. "And I'll be by your side, no matter what. But the choice has to be yours."

For a moment, the world seemed to pause as Emma searched his face, her heart torn between love and duty.

"I..."

Before she could speak, the sound of footsteps approached, and they turned to see Adrian standing in the doorway. His gaze flickered between them, his expression hardening.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

Emma's breath caught as the tension between the three of them thickened.

Emma stepped back instinctively, her hands slipping from Harrison's as Adrian's imposing figure filled the doorway. The moonlight cast long shadows across the balcony, amplifying the weight of his presence.

"You are not interrupting, Your Highness," Emma managed, her voice carefully measured. "I was just… enjoying the evening air."

Adrian's gaze lingered on Harrison for a moment longer before he turned his attention to Emma. "I've been looking for you. It seems you've become quite the elusive Diamond tonight."

Harrison straightened, his jaw tightening. "Perhaps because the Diamond is not a prize to be sought after, but a person with her own will."

Adrian's lips curled into a tight smile, his voice calm yet cutting. "And yet, society would suggest otherwise, wouldn't it, Lord Ashbourne? Particularly when the stakes are as high as they are now."

Emma stepped forward, her heart racing. "Enough," she said, her voice firm despite the trembling in her hands. "I won't be treated as a trophy in whatever battle you two think you're fighting."

Both men looked at her, their expressions shifting. Adrian's confidence faltered for the briefest moment, and Harrison's eyes softened, guilt flickering across his face.

"Emma," Harrison began, but she held up a hand.

"No, Harrison. I need time to think. And I can't do that with both of you standing here, tearing each other apart."

Adrian inclined his head, his voice smooth but tinged with urgency. "Take all the time you need, Miss Hastings. But do remember—time is not a luxury afforded to everyone."

Emma turned away from both of them, her chest tightening as she walked back into the ballroom without another word.

In the dimly lit drawing room of the Ashbourne estate, Clara sat with her hands clenched around a porcelain teacup, the fragile surface threatening to crack under the pressure of her grip. Her mother, lady waybrigde sat across from her, a deep frown etched into her features.

"You're telling me that Harrison—your betrothed—declared his love for her in front of you?" her mother said, her voice low and biting.

"Yes," Clara replied through gritted teeth, her knuckles white. "In the garden. As if I were nothing more than a spectator in their sordid little play."

Her mother leaned forward, her voice a hiss. "Then we must act quickly. Your position is already tenuous. If we let this go unchecked, you'll be ruined."

Clara set the teacup down with a sharp clink, her eyes blazing. "I will not let her win. Emma Hastings may have charmed society, but she doesn't know who she's crossed."

Clara's lips curved into a cold smile. "I'll ensure her downfall. If she thinks being the Diamond means she's untouchable, she's sorely mistaken."

Later that night, Emma sat by her vanity, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was undone, the elaborate style from the ball now a cascade of curls framing her weary face. She touched the necklace around her neck—a gift from Eleanor for her debut—and sighed.

Eleanor entered quietly, her expression soft as she approached. "You were magnificent tonight, my dear," she said, placing a gentle hand on Emma's shoulder. "But I can see the weight of it all is taking its toll."

Emma met her gaze in the mirror, her eyes glistening. "How did you do it, Mama? How did you navigate a world that expects so much and gives so little in return?"

Eleanor's smile was bittersweet. "By remembering who I am, and what I stand for. The world will always try to shape you into what it desires, Emma. But you must decide who you are, and hold onto that with everything you have."

Emma nodded, her heart heavy with uncertainty. "I wish it were that simple."

Eleanor kissed the top of her head. "It never is, my love. But you are stronger than you know."

In the royal palace, Adrian sat in his private study, his mind racing. His advisors had already begun whispering about Emma, about her beauty, her poise, and her undeniable charm. The perfect queen for an empire teetering on the brink of change.

But it wasn't just her status as the Diamond that intrigued him. It was the fire in her eyes, the way she resisted when the world sought to bend her. She was unlike anyone he had ever met.

"Your Highness," one of his advisors said, stepping into the room. "Shall we proceed with the arrangements for the courtship?"

Adrian leaned back in his chair, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Yes. But we'll do it carefully. Emma Hastings will be mine—but not through force. I want her to choose me."

"And if she doesn't?" the advisor asked hesitantly.

Adrian's smile hardened. "Then we'll ensure she understands the cost of refusal."

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the Hastings estate, bathing Emma's room in a golden glow. She sat at the edge of her bed, her hands twisting the silk handkerchief Eleanor had given her years ago. Sleep had eluded her, and the weight of her thoughts was almost unbearable.

When a soft knock sounded on her door, Emma startled. "Come in," she called, her voice trembling slightly.

Eleanor entered, her expression warm but concerned. "Good morning, darling," she said, closing the door gently behind her. "I thought I might find you awake. You've had much on your mind lately."

Emma smiled faintly, gesturing for her mother to sit beside her. "I suppose it's impossible to hide anything from you, isn't it?"

"Not when it comes to you," Eleanor replied, taking her daughter's hand in hers. "Now, tell me what troubles you. You've carried this burden for too long."

For a moment, Emma hesitated. But the weight on her heart was too heavy to bear alone. She took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mama, I love him."

Eleanor's eyes softened, though there was no surprise in them. "Harrison."

Emma nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. "I've loved him for as long as I can remember. And I know how foolish it is, how impossible it seems. But I cannot marry the prince. My heart belongs to Harrison, and it always will."

Eleanor pulled Emma into an embrace, holding her tightly as tears slipped down her cheeks. "Oh, my darling," she murmured. "Love is never foolish. It is the most courageous thing we can feel. And I would never ask you to marry someone you do not love."

Emma pulled back, her eyes wide. "But what about the expectations? The title? The alliance?"

Eleanor cupped Emma's face in her hands, her voice firm but gentle. "Titles and alliances mean nothing if they cost you your happiness. I want you to marry for love, Emma, not for duty."

Emma's tears fell freely now, a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, Mama. I've been so afraid of disappointing you and Papa."

Eleanor smiled, brushing a tear from Emma's cheek. "You could never disappoint us. You are our greatest joy, Emma. And I will stand by your side, no matter what comes."

The two women sat together in silence for a moment, the bond between them stronger than ever. But even as relief washed over Emma, she knew the road ahead would not be easy.

Later that day, Emma sat with Thomas in the library as he sketched designs for the estate's new gardens. The boy's youthful energy was a welcome distraction, and Emma found herself smiling for the first time in days.

"You've been happier today," Thomas said, glancing up from his work. "Did something good happen?"

Emma ruffled his hair affectionately. "Let's just say I've finally decided to be honest about what I want."

Thomas grinned. "Does this have to do with Lord Ashbourne? Because if it does, I think he's brilliant. Much better than the prince."

Emma laughed, her heart swelling with love for her brother. "You're too clever for your own good, Thomas."

As evening fell, Eleanor sought out Alfred in his study. She found him reviewing estate finances, his expression serious but calm.

"Alfred," she began, closing the door behind her.

He looked up, his brow furrowing slightly at her tone. "Is something wrong?"

Eleanor sat across from him, folding her hands in her lap. "We need to speak about Emma."

Alfred set his papers aside, giving her his full attention. "What about her?"

"She's in love," Eleanor said softly. "With Harrison."

Alfred's expression darkened, and he leaned back in his chair. "That complicates things."

"It does," Eleanor admitted. "But I cannot ask her to marry the prince when her heart belongs to someone else. We must find a way to support her."

Alfred sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "The prince will not take rejection lightly. And society… They'll tear her apart."

"Then we'll protect her," Eleanor said firmly. "Whatever it takes, Alfred. Emma deserves a chance to follow her heart."

After a long pause, Alfred nodded. "Very well. If Harrison is the man she loves, we'll stand by her. But we must tread carefully. The prince is not a man to be crossed."

Eleanor reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. "Thank you, Alfred. Together, we'll ensure Emma's happiness."