Chapter 10: Thread by Thread
Days turned into weeks, then months, and Marius replayed that day over and over in his mind like a treasured dream. Each night, after his duties were complete and the mansion had fallen silent, he would take out the handkerchief and trace the embroidery, remembering the way Sonia had smiled at him—like he wasn’t just a nuisance or a burden.
When the nights were particularly harsh, and the duchess’s punishments left him bruised and aching, he would imagine Sonia’s gentle hands tending to his wounds. The fantasy was enough to dull the pain, just enough to get through the night.
As he grew older, he continued to hone his skills. His education was rigorous, overseen by stern tutors who cared more about results than well-being. Still, Marius absorbed every lesson, every piece of information, as if each success would bring him closer to something better.
Whenever the day had been especially cruel, Marius would retreat to his room and take up his embroidery. Sonia was his only warmth in a world that had never been kind—his sanctuary. Stitch by stitch, he remembered her.
He also spent time training, his body hardening from both chores and the combat lessons the duke insisted upon. Every swing of the practice sword, every calculated step, he envisioned himself strong enough to protect Sonia from anything—especially from people like the duchess.
Two years passed. By the time Marius turned twelve and began appearing at social gatherings once more, Sonia was nowhere to be found. She had vanished from the social scene entirely.
Rumors whispered that the Mitford daughter had fallen ill, but no one knew the details. His heart ached at the thought that she might be suffering, yet there was nothing he could do. Night after night, he clutched the handkerchief he had embroidered with her favorite yellow bird, willing himself to believe she would recover.
One evening, after yet another particularly harsh berating from the duchess, she sneered at him with her usual venom.
"What a pathetic waste you are. You had a chance—however small—to secure a tie to Count Mitford’s family, and you let it slip through your fingers. Do you have any idea how valuable that girl could have been to us? She was a doorway, a step up, and you failed to walk through it when she was still within reach. Typical. You’re good for nothing but letting me down."