Chapter 15 The Curse of Nobility

Silva Fischburn was not easily shaken.

He had faced numerous challenges in his life, from the cruelty of the noble children to the vicious battles he had fought in service of the Empire.

But as he sat alone in his quarters that evening, his mind kept wandering back to Marina Eldheim, and he found himself unsettled in a way he had never expected.

Her face kept appearing in his thoughts—her wild curly hair, her eyes that glinted with intelligence and strength, her dirty overalls smeared with grease and oil.

She was so different from the polished, well-mannered women of the noble houses, the ones who spent hours perfecting their appearances and learning the arts of social decorum.

And yet, it was Marina's unpolished beauty and brilliance that kept tugging at something deep inside of him.

It wasn't right. It couldn't be right. His heart already belonged to someone else.

He had been waiting—searching—for Charlotte, his beloved from his past life. He had known, ever since the day he regained his memories, that she was out there somewhere.

He had promised her they would find each other again, and he couldn't afford to be distracted by anyone else, no matter how magnetic that person might be. Silva leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. "Damn it, " he muttered under his breath.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to reconcile his feelings. Every time he saw Marina, something inside him stirred. He wasn't just attracted to her beauty—there was something more, something he couldn't quite put into words.

The way she carried herself, her confidence, the way she approached her work with such passion and dedication.

It was like watching a master craftsman at work, only this craftsman happened to also be a woman whose very presence set his heart racing.

He hated how it made him feel.

I can't afford this, he thought. I can't afford to be distracted, not when Charlotte is still out there waiting for me.

With a groan, Silva stood up from his desk and began pacing the room, as if movement would help him clear his thoughts.

He had made up his mind to avoid Marina as much as possible.

He would keep things professional, ensure that their interactions were strictly related to the mission.

Anything else was a distraction—dangerous and unnecessary.

But even as he resolved to avoid her, Silva couldn't shake the feeling that he was only fooling himself.

Every time he saw her, he felt a pull, like gravity drawing him toward her.

And it wasn't just her beauty—it was her presence, her spirit.

There was something about her that made him feel... alive in a way he hadn't felt in a long time.

He cursed under his breath again.

Just as he made a mental note to avoid being near Marina, a knock came at the door.

Silva frowned, wondering who it could be at this hour.

He opened the door to find Marcus standing there, grinning like a mischievous child.

"Hey, " Marcus said, leaning against the doorframe. "I was about to grab a drink with the others. Care to join? "

Silva sighed. "Not in the mood. "

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Not in the mood? Come on, you've been brooding in here all day. You need a break. "

Silva shook his head. "I've got too much to think about. Besides, I'm not really in the mood for company. "

Marcus leaned in closer, his grin widening. "This doesn't have anything to do with a certain inventor, does it? "

Silva froze for a split second, but it was enough for Marcus to catch on.

His grin turned into a knowing smirk.

"I knew it, " Marcus said with a chuckle. "You've been acting weird ever since we visited the workshop. "

Silva shot him a warning glare. "It's not what you think. "

"Sure, sure. " Marcus waved him off. "All I'm saying is, if you're attracted to her, there's nothing wrong with that. She's... well, she's Marina. You could do a lot worse. "

Silva's expression darkened. "It's not about whether she's attractive, Marcus. I'm...I'm waiting for someone. "

Marcus's grin faltered. "Charlotte. "

Silva nodded, a mixture of guilt and frustration gnawing at him. "I made a promise to her. I'm not going to betray that promise. "

Marcus folded his arms, leaning against the wall. "Look, I get it. But it's been years, Silva. You've been searching for this woman for a long time, and you haven't found her. Maybe it's time to let go. "

Silva clenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "I will find her. I can't let go of her. Not after everything. "

Marcus sighed, his playful demeanor giving way to something more serious. "Just... be careful, okay? I don't want to see you tear yourself apart over something you can't control. If Marina's stirring something in you, maybe that's worth paying attention to. "

Silva didn't respond, his thoughts once again a tangled mess of emotions.

He knew Marcus was right in a way—he had been searching for Charlotte for years, and with each passing day, the hope of finding her seemed to slip further from his grasp.

But he couldn't just let go.

He couldn't betray her memory, not for anyone.

Not even for someone like Marina.

***

Meanwhile, Marina was having a similar battle with her own emotions.

She had felt it the moment she laid eyes on Silva Fischburn—the tall, dark, handsome man with the intense eyes and commanding presence.

He was the man from her dreams, the one she had been seeing in her sleep for as long as she could remember.

Suddenly all the blurry dreams and visions became clear, like puzzle pieces falling into place, even if she couldn't remember the details.

There was no doubt in her mind that it was him.

But Silva was... distant.

Ever since that first encounter in the workshop, he had been avoiding her.

Every time she tried to get close to him, he found an excuse to leave, always keeping their interactions formal and professional.

He never lingered longer than necessary, never gave her the chance to talk to him properly.

It was frustrating.

She knew what she felt.

She knew he was the one.

But it seemed like Silva was determined to keep her at arm's length.

"Why is he avoiding me? " Marina muttered to herself as she adjusted the gears on one of the machines in the workshop. "He's not even subtle about it. "

Cog, her sleepy black and white cat, yawned lazily from his perch near the window, as if to remind her that he wasn't concerned with such matters.

Marina sighed, wiping the grease from her hands.

She wasn't the type to chase after anyone, but this was different.

This wasn't some fleeting infatuation—this was destiny.

She had seen him in her dreams.

She knew he was important.

And yet, Silva kept his distance.

Why?

As she worked through her thoughts, Marina became aware of a few of the noble ladies who had been lingering near the workshop.

They knew they were part of the palace staff, but their real purpose was to catch the eye of eligible bachelors, particularly those of high rank and status.

One of them, a tall blonde woman with sharp features named Lady Elaine Devereaux, only daughter of the Ducal Family, House of Devereaux, had been watching Marina with increasing hostility.

It wasn't hard to guess why.

Marina was, after all, working closely with the soldiers—especially with Silva, who had caught the attention of more than a few of the young noblewomen.

Lady Elaine had made it no secret that she had her sights set on Silva, and now that Marina was suddenly in the picture, she had become a target of Elara's disdain.

It was the curse of nobility, after all.

The marriage mart, as it was commonly known, was a game of power and politics.

Marriages were rarely about love.

They were about alliances, about securing one's place in the social hierarchy.

And someone like Silva—handsome, powerful, from a noble family despite his mother's disgrace—was a prize to be won.

But Marina wasn't interested in playing their game.

She wasn't interested in power or status.

She only wanted to know why Silva was avoiding her, and why she couldn't seem to get close to him.

"Miss Eldheim, " Elaine's soft voice cut through the air like a blade.

Marina turned to see Elaine and her entourage standing nearby, their eyes cold and calculating.

"May I help you? " Marina asked, her voice polite but distant.

She wasn't in the mood for whatever game Elaine was playing.

Elaine's lips curved into a smirk. "I couldn't help but notice that you've been spending quite a bit of time around Sir Silva. "

Marina raised an eyebrow. "I work with the palace. I'm doing my job. "

"Of course, " Elaine said, her tone dripping with condescension. "But you must know that someone like Silva is... out of your reach. You're a commoner, after all. It would be best if you remembered your place. "

Marina's expression didn't change, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "I wasn't aware that my job required your approval, Lady Elaine. "

Elaine's smirk faltered, her eyes flashing with anger. "You think you're clever, don't you? But let me give you some advice—Silva Fischburn is a nobleman. He won't waste his time on someone like you. He belongs with someone of his own station. "

Marina's jaw tightened, but she didn't respond. Maybe that's why Silva kept his distance from her. That thought made her chest tighten and her heart ache.

But she wasn't about to engage in a pointless argument with someone like Elaine.

Instead, she turned her attention back to her work, ignoring the group of noblewomen as they whispered and sneered behind her.

As the days passed, Silva continued to avoid Marina, and she continued to search for answers.

But the distance between them only grew, and the tension in the air became almost unbearable.

Silva knew he couldn't keep this up forever.

He couldn't keep avoiding her, pretending that she didn't affect him.

But he also couldn't allow himself to be distracted—not when there was so much at stake.

He had to stay focused.

He had to stay true to his mission.

And above all, he had to stay true to Charlotte.

But as much as he tried to convince himself of that, every time he saw Marina, he felt his resolve weaken.

And he hated it.

The curse of nobility, indeed.