The following morning, Rose awoke early to get herself ready. Despite her reluctance to venture out, she wished to avoid further punishment and scolding.
She quickly bathed, donning the sleeveless red dress her brother had gifted her, characterized by its rather deep neckline.
The design of the dress displeased her, as did the prospect of wearing it. Its scant warmth offered little comfort in the cold. Her brother's harsh treatment fresh in her mind, she resignedly slipped into the dress and paired it with the black shoes they had bought for her.
When noon arrived, her brother was there on time to collect her. Ready to leave, she went with him.
Rose was taken to a restaurant owned by her family, where in a private room, her parents, brother, and sister made sure she felt increasingly pressured. Her parents outlined how she was expected to behave, triggering another nervous tic.
...
Minutes passed, and at 2 p.m. in one of the restaurant's rooms, the Farrells waited for Claramond. Precisely at 2:10 p.m., he appeared.
"Apologies for the delay," said Claramond upon arrival.
Seeing him enter, Rose, who was standing with her family, walked over and embraced him. She wasn't aware that he was the man she was to be engaged to, but she hugged him out of a pressing need for comfort.
"Oh, little one. How are you?" Claramond inquired. She simply smiled in response, while the Farrells watched, astonished.
"Don’t get too familiar, Rose!" her brother Amon scolded.
"No worries, trust is a good thing between us," Claramond assured him, immediately noticing the tic in her hands and, concerned, taking her hands in his.
"You already know each other, right?" Amon asked.
"That’s correct," Claramond affirmed.
"Well... Let's sit down," Mr. Farrell suggested.
Everyone took their seats, Rose beside Claramond, who continued his attempts to soothe her tic.
"So, I'm curious... how did you two meet?" Amon asked.
"My mother is Rose’s neighbor—she lives right next door," Claramond answered.
"Oh..." Amon sighed.
"That's trivial. Mr. Paxley, I appreciate what you're doing. Now, I will detail for you both the expectations throughout this five-year engagement," Mr. Farrell declared.
"I'm listening," said Claramond. Upon hearing this, Rose locked eyes with him for a moment before shifting away slightly. Claramond noted her withdrawal but attentively listened to Mr. Farrell.
"You must live together in a house of your choosing, or we can provide one," Mr. Farrell informed them.
"Understood," acknowledged Claramond.
"Furthermore, there must be regular public appearances, and your social media presence must be constant. We need to project the image of the perfect couple," Mr. Farrell instructed.
"Rosemary also must present herself better. We can't have her looking so dowdy," Mrs. Farrell, Rose's mother, added.
"I'll keep that in mind," Claramond said.
"Lastly, I need an heir from you. Margaret has no desire for children, and neither does Amon, so Rosemary, you must provide us with a male heir within these five years," declared Mr. Farrell.
"That... should only occur if she agrees... perhaps she isn’t ready for children just yet," Claramond suggested.
"That's irrelevant. It's part of the agreement you've already signed, Mr. Paxley," Aaron intervened.
"I understand..." Claramond responded with visible annoyance.
"Well... As for financial matters, you will receive sufficient funds to maintain a comfortable life wherever you choose to live, so why don't we eat?" Mrs. Farrell interjected.
"Actually, we agreed there would be no sum from you—I will handle all expenses for Rose and the like," Claramond clarified.
"If that's what you wish, very well," Mr. Farrell conceded.
The meal was eventually served, and everyone began to dine. Rose, however, showed no appetite, feeling disheartened and merely pushing the food around on her plate with her fork.
Claramond noticed this and gently took the fork from her. He cut a small piece of pasta and brought it to Rose's lips.
"Open up... You need to eat if you want to get better," he encouraged. Without making eye contact, Rose opened her mouth and accepted the morsel.
He continued to feed her in this manner and, when it was time for dessert, he took the initiative to order her favorite from the menu.
"This one, then?" he asked. Rose nodded after pointing to the dessert, and he smiled back. "Could we have a slice of black forest cake for her, please?" he requested from their server.
As he said this, Rose was struck by a memory, one where Jaume was ordering the same dessert for her.
"Could you bring a slice of black forest cake and a chocolate malted milkshake for my princess, please?" Jaume had asked. "All set, princess. Now, let's sit down, and tell me what's got you so sad. Sorrows taste sweeter with cake, my love," he said, guiding Rose to a table.
"I'm afraid... that people will mock me again," Rose had said quietly.
"Who would dare?... I regret not being there to prevent it... but ignore them, they're just jealous because you're beautiful and perfect," Jaume had comforted her...
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