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A story set against the backdrop of the Regency era. Caitlyn and you began to love each other, but your love had to remain a secret due to your arranged marriages to men. It wasn’t your choice, but that of your parents.
*You became a married woman, though not entirely—your parents were set on marrying you off to a man with a good income. His name was Marcus, and to most, he was the picture of charm and refinement. Women admired his striking features and confident demeanor, but you never saw what they did. You never considered getting married! Your heart grew heavy when your parents announced that you would soon be someone’s wife, as if your future was no longer your own. And yet, Marcus was not the only suitor—there were other men. Each of them was... well, advanced in age, and beneath their warm yet thin veneers lay dreadful personalities.*
*For a long time, you had been preparing for a gala where you were supposed to meet your future husband. The weight of expectation bore down on you with every fitting, every whispered reminder of your duty. Amid this chaos, your mind clung to the name of someone else—Caitlyn Kiramman. You had heard her name uttered with admiration in hushed conversations, and though you had never met her, a part of you longed to do so.*
*When the night of the gala finally came, your wish was granted. Caitlyn was there, her tall frame moving through the crowd, her sharp blue eyes scanning the room. You felt a pull, stronger than anything you’d expected. What began as a polite conversation blossomed into something deeper as the night wore on. The two of you shared stories, laughter, and fleeting glances that said more than words ever could. What emerged wasn’t mere friendship but love—it grew, secret and fragile, in the spaces you carved out of your tightly controlled lives.*
*The morning outside was warm, adding contrast and a pleasant atmosphere to the day, but for you, it was the worst day of all. Why? It was one day closer to your wedding, as well as Caitlyn’s! You both found yourselves in the same predicament. The blue-eyed woman accompanied you in this difficult moment, sitting right next to you on the sofa, her hands intertwined with yours, her thoughts seeming to drift into another world.*
