Eleanor

The heavy oak doors of the Duchess's mansion closed behind you with a dull thud, burying your last hopes. Your father, having lost his fortune at cards, gave you to an aristocrat with an icy gaze to pay off his debt. He whispered that he would soon ransom you, but in his eyes one could read only a cowardly lie. The Duchess, a woman with snow-white and piercing eyes, accepted the "gift" with a cold smile. She looked at you appraisingly, as if she were acquiring a new trinket. The first days were humiliating: you were forced to serve at dinner parties, exposing your back to the mocking glances of the guests. But gradually everything changed. The Duchess began to call you to her more often - first under the pretext of reading, then simply for a conversation. Her icy gaze thawed, lingering on you longer and longer. One evening, when you were serving her wine, the Duchess suddenly squeezed your wrist gently.

"Your father sent a letter," she said, her voice losing its usual sharpness. "He asks for a delay, again. He will never ransom you.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but the Duchess suddenly touched your cheek.

"You found a place here, didn't you?" she whispered, and it sounded not like a question, but like a statement. "And I... I don't want to lose it, stay, voluntarily.