The Ball

Silvia hurried inside, stealing fleeting glances at Jordan, who still stood exactly where she had left him. The way he leaned casually against the fence, smiling flirtatiously, sent a fresh wave of heat rushing to her cheeks. No matter how many years they had been in love, she still blushed every time she was near him.

Shaking off the feeling, she quickened her pace and entered the house, heading straight to tend to her youngest sister, Ersa. At only ten years old, Ersa was the most moody of the bunch, yet Silvia adored her deeply. She had five stepsisters—Gazel, Bisma, Esha, Lola, and Ersa—aged eighteen, sixteen, fourteen, ten, and eight, respectively. Despite being stepsisters, Silvia treated them like her own blood.

As she stepped into the shared bedroom, she found Esha, Lola, and Ersa sitting on their beds, clearly waiting for her. She quickly closed the door behind her, as if shutting out the overwhelming shyness creeping up her spine.

Ersa's sharp eyes narrowed as she studied her sister's unusually flushed face. "What happened, Silvia? Are you sick?" she asked, hopping off the bed, with Lola following close behind. Esha, however, remained seated, holding the book she was reading, watching Silvia with a knowing look.

"Oh no! Everything is completely fine. I was just… running around, that's all," Silvia stammered, hastily covering her face to hide her telltale blush.

Esha smirked, tilting her head. "I think Sir Jordan is here. That's why she's blushing," she teased.

Silvia's head snapped up, her eyes wide, but her reaction only confirmed Esha's suspicion. The three girls immediately perked up, their excitement bubbling over. They knew all about Silvia and Jordan's love story—she told them everything. Every stolen glance, every whispered word. It was the one source of warmth and color in their otherwise barren lives, a sweet escape in a world that often felt dull and unchanging. 

"Really? He is?!! Tell us, Silvia! What did he say?" Lola tugged at Silvia's dress, her excitement bubbling over.

Ersa, her bright green eyes wide with curiosity, joined in. "What did he say? Did he bring you a present? Or maybe some flowers?" She wanted to hear her sister tell her all about their brief meeting,

Silvia glanced between the two of them, their eager faces making her chuckle. She pouted playfully before kneeling down and patting both of their cheeks.

"He is here," she confirmed, lowering her voice as if sharing a great secret. "We'll be meeting later, after I finish preparing lunch. I'll tell you everything tonight, okay?"

The two gave her a sullen look but nodded reluctantly. Silvia smiled and gently led them back to their beds, picking up a wooden comb from the side table to run through their beautiful, curly brown hair.

Esha, meanwhile, flipped open her book again, diving back into its pages with intense focus. Silvia, on the other hand, found herself lost in thought, her fingers moving through the girls' hair in an almost dreamlike trance.

.....

"Why are you shouting at me like that?! As if I've done something wrong!" Sandra retorted, her voice sharp with indignation.

Bill exhaled harshly, trying to rein in his frustration. "How could you keep the mine situation from me?! Do you have any idea what kind of disaster this will bring upon us?!"

His scowl deepened, and his face was flushed an unreasonable shade of red, unable to contain the sheer exasperation washing over him. A few beads of sweat had formed on his forehead as the severity of the situation fully sank in.

Sandra's large eyes welled up with tears, her lips quivering. "What do you mean by that? The mine has been producing coal for five generations. Of course, it was bound to run out at some point! And now you're blaming me?!"

She knew exactly how to manipulate her husband's anger, and the moment his expression hardened, she patted her sleeve against her eyes, dabbing away her tears with practiced ease. She knew her husband couldn't bear the sight of her crying and would definitely swallow his anger in the moment. 

Bill was momentarily speechless, It seemed like her magic had worked on him once again, because despite his frustration he tried his best to calm himself but the catalogue ihe had seen the moment he had walked in had caused his nerves to itch. He pointed sharply at the extravagant catalog that Gazel had handed Sandra earlier.

"And this—this is what you're spending money on? Lavish accessories? When you knew our financial situation?! Sandra, what are we supposed to do now?" His voice carried an edge of pure desperation.

The man was beside himself, yet even in his fury, he fought to keep from sounding too harsh toward her. He was spellbound—always had been. Some in the village whispered that Sandra was a witch, that she had charmed Bill in some unnatural way. After all, she had arrived in Billwood as a mere slave while he was still married to his first wife. But soon after, his wife had fallen inexplicably ill, withering away before anyone could understand what was happening. And the moment she was gone… Bill had married Sandra out of the blue making her the countess even when it was deemed unnatural for a master to take a slave as their official wife but he did without caring much. 

"Me?" Sandra scoffed, placing a hand on her hip. "Bill, have you forgotten? We have five daughters who need to be wedded. They must have something decent to wear if they want to catch the eye of a desirable suitor. This isn't just frivolous spending—it's necessary!" She casually ignored Silvia in the counting considering that only her daughters were important.

Bill opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off.

"But—"

"In just one week, the Countess Darla, is hosting a grand ball," Sandra continued, her voice unwavering. "Gazel must attend if she wants to secure a match with someone of good standing. I can't send her looking like a beggar!"

Tears welled up in her eyes once more, shimmering like unshed pearls. Bill swallowed hard, knowing deep down that she wasn't entirely wrong. But he couldn't allow her reckless spending to continue unchecked.

"I don't know about that," he said, voice firm yet weary. "Get something modest for both Gazel and Silvia this time. They are graceful enough to attract attention without all these extravagant embellishments." He turned away, signaling the discussion was over.

Sandra's face paled. "You're sending Silvia too?"

Bill stopped in his tracks, his brows knitting together. "Why wouldn't I? She's older—she should be the first to go. We need to marry her off before anyone else!"

Sandra's expression darkened with fury. "I am not sending her along with Gazel! I won't let her steal what rightfully belongs to Gazel—do you hear me?" Her voice trembled with anger as she stomped her foot against the floor, then spun around and stormed off before Bill could respond.