◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆
◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆･.｡ †｡.･ ◆
Warning: Very long post ahead 
Svet was an enigma of imperfections, a mosaic of traits that colored her existence. Svet was fair headed, a heiress, tall in both stature and rank, perhaps some might say naive, but perfect was something she was… Thus, it was the allure of the unattainable perfection that beckoned her heart toward a grander devotion—toward Harrison Davis, the future English earl. In the tapestry of his being, she saw all that she was not—free, charming, elegantly and expressive… A sonnet spun of eloquence.
Svet, always a connoisseur of accents, found her penchant for British inflections ignited in Harrison’s company. British men were not her ideal type- a departure from her norm as though they had lovely accents she found them boring, American men were more in her allure, they were mysterious as she had never met them and it made her curious. She knew not the taste of an American, yet she knew of their liberation and how free they were.
Harrison, the embodiment of what Svet imagined the realm across the Atlantic to be- the very definition of an American man while being british- unfettered, passionate, charismatic, strode through life as a traveler through boundless seas. Attributes Svet herself dared not possess, bound as she was to her legacy as a heiress. Her parents, though seemingly indifferent, had whispered promises of her inheritance. And so, she dared not tread with abandon; she was the heiress-in-waiting.
Awestruck by him, in love with him, or was it rather the emancipation he bestowed upon her that captivated her soul? Harrison was not entwined in the same adoration, oblivious to her ardor, perhaps her feelings eluding his perception. For Harrison, love’s nuances were puzzles beyond his purview, a sentiment felt and overlooked. Thus, Svet cast aside the veil, bared her feelings with a query for a kiss, the stolen innocence of first touch, a communion of shared innocence.
Their kiss felt like freedom, Svet was flying everytime Harrison was with her. They had to marry- it was only right they should, he was her first kiss and she was his. They have shared lips on lips, meaning that they should share a ring.
“Svet, come down” his laughter carried on the wind as she perched atop a rock, an ethereal figure against the sky. “For fear of a torn dress, come down,” young Harrison’s voice implored.
“Should I fall, would you catch me, then?” Her words danced in the breeze, mingling with her laughter.
“I would, but you mustn’t fall. Come down,” he cajoled.
“But I wish to be a bird for the day, let me take flight, I don’t want to come down” , arms outstretched, she dared to emulate flight, a silhouette against the sunlit heavens. ‘I don’t want to,’ a declaration of choice, a declaration of free will, of freedom.
“Yet, you must land with me, do you not wish to be by my side?” His voice, tender, was a whisper in the wind.
“You’re so prideful, why would I want to be by your side? Do not hold yourself in such esteem,” she countered, though within her beat the desire to be wherever he was. A pout danced upon Harrison’s lips, a playful grimace in response.
“You wound me, Svetlana,” Harrison chided, jest playing in his voice. “Good boys such as I deserve kinder treatment.”
“Good?” Svet chuckled, his laughter weaving with her own like a delicate symphony, a fleeting harmony that danced between them. Harrison’s rejoinder was a laugh that sang in unison, a shared crescendo.
“You’re a tough critic, Svetlana,” his words held a whimsical cadence, a playful melody that hung in the air. A moment of reprieve before her perch gave way, the rock a treacherous precipice. Harrison’s reflexes sprung into action, a dancer’s grace guiding his steps, his arms finding her form as she tumbled.
“I told you you will fall,” Harrison said, holding Svet tightly.
“And I knew- I knew you shall catch me,”
“I shouldn’t have, teach you a lesson perhaps.” He jested as Svet ran her fingers through his face, touching him, his face was so smooth, so fresh, not yet grown to have a beard. He was 15, after all, and she was 14.
She wrapped her arms around him as he was about to drop her, leaning in, she kissed him hard on the lips. Harrison had paused, before he sat down on the grass, her on his lap and kissed back. They pulled away, just laughing as they stared into the sky, and Svet did not notice her father behind them till he pulled her away.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” Her father raged, his anger palpable and his knife gleaming in the sunlight. Harrison instinctively took a step back, his heart pounding with fear. He glanced at Svet, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and apprehension. Her sudden declaration had caught him off guard, and he found himself in a precarious situation.
Svet stepped in front of Harrison, her arms outstretched as if to shield him from her father’s anger. Her voice was surprisingly steady as she spoke, her words daring and defiant. “He is to be my fiancé,” she announced, her gaze never leaving her father’s. Harrison looked at her as if she had lost her mind. This was not part of their plan, not at all.
Her father’s expression turned incredulous, a mix of surprise and anger. “You will marry my daughter then?” he demanded, his tone laced with skepticism. Harrison’s lips pursed as he struggled to find the right words. This was not how he had envisioned any of this unfolding.
As the weight of the situation settled over them, Svet turned her gaze towards Harrison, searching for a sign, for something that would reassure her that everything would be fine. But to her dismay, Harrison remained silent, his gaze averted. It was a deafening silence that spoke volumes.
“You shall marry me?” Svet’s voice trembled slightly, a mix of desperation and hope in her eyes. She wanted him to say something, anything that would make sense of this chaotic moment. She had thought they were connected, destined to be together, their souls intertwined.
Harrison’s gaze flickered towards her, a fleeting glance that held a depth of emotion he struggled to put into words. But instead of answering her directly, he looked away, his gaze distant. “If the Lord sees to it,” he finally said, his voice barely audible.
Svet’s heart sank at his response. She had expected a definitive answer, a resolute declaration of his feelings for her. But his words felt like a dismissal, a way to avoid the question without outright rejecting her. She wished he could say yes, wished he could tell her that they would face whatever challenges came their way together.
Her father’s voice cut through her thoughts, his demand for them to marry by the following day. Harrison’s body tensed as her father’s hands gripped his arms, effectively silencing any potential protest. Svet could see the disdain in her father’s eyes, and it stung. This was not how she had imagined her love story unfolding, and the reality was far more complicated than the dreams she had cherished.
With Harrison by her side, silent yet strangely present, Svet felt a mixture of emotions swirling within her. Uncertainty, fear, and a glimmer of hope tangled together as she faced the impending marriage her father had ordained.
With her father’s command hanging heavily in the air, Svet couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation pressing down upon her. She turned her gaze back to Harrison, a mix of anticipation and trepidation in her eyes. She desperately wanted him to reassure her, to give her some sort of indication that their connection was strong enough to weather this storm. But the silence that lingered between them was deafening.
Harrison’s expression was a mixture of distress and something she couldn’t quite decipher. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, held a distant look as if he was grappling with his own thoughts and emotions. Svet’s heart ached at the sight. Had she truly misread their connection? No, she had not, Harrison was just confused, Harrison loved her, he had too, she loved him, they had been each other’s firsts.
“Svetlana,” Harrison’s voice finally broke through the silence, and she turned her attention to him, her gaze searching for some semblance of understanding. “I am honored by your sentiment on marrying me, but marriage is a serious commitment, one that requires time and consideration.” His voice was gentle, tinged with a hint of frustration. “I am too young for such a step and times for such marriages have passed.”
Svet gave him a look that could not quite be deciphered, she knew what he was suggesting- he was going to leave her, leave them. He was going to leave her to rot in this house, to be lonely to have no one while he will have all in the world because he was so free, he had been the one to ask for a second and third kiss, he had been the one to run his hands through her hair- to call her beauty, to kiss her forehead and when he had called him her he had not deny it- only smiled.
“Younger than us have been made wives and husbands already,” Svet replied, her voice laced with determination. “And besides, age matters little when it comes to matters of the heart. We are meant to be, Harrison. Can you not feel it?”
Harrison’s gaze met hers, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something soften in his eyes. But just as quickly, his expression became guarded again. He didn’t respond, and Svet felt a pang of frustration. She had expected him to embrace their connection wholeheartedly, to see the possibilities as clearly as she did.
“And those who married young are ruined in both mind and soul,” Harrison replied,
“You can’t leave,” Svet said again, “Make a promise, do not leave,” She begged, “If you do, I’ll jump off a mountain.”
“No, you won’t,” His voice was gentle, a mix of concern and disbelief.
“Please stay, don’t go. Tell me you love me,”
Harrison looked away at that- Harrison disliked lying much, especially when it came to love. He did not take the word, ‘love’ in vain and he was still so young, he had not lived his life.
“I am fond of you,” Is what he said instead, “You’re passionate,” He said as he kissed her forehead,
She smiled, she wanted to believe that for once in her life she was loved and free, and Harrison had just confirmed he loved her- he was fond of her, meaning that he loved her. “We will get wed then? I can convince my father to stall the wedding till we are of age, but you will be my fiance?”
“Tell your father to postpone the wedding,” Is what Harrison said and Svet nodded, wrapping her arms around him, she brought him to a kiss on the lips. Harrison did not kiss back this time, he was still, kind of cold but his lips were as soft as ever. “I love you Harrison,”
“That’s lovely,” Harrison said,
“I can’t wait to be your bride,”
“A wonderful dream indeed.” Harrison coughed, “Go and tell your father to postpone it, I might wait here.” Svet nodded, as she left she stared at Harrison once last time giving him a smile.
Svet had gone to tell her father and shockingly he agreed after the mother convinced him too, once she went back to the garden to tell Harrison. Harrison had gone, disappeared, and there was a note.
‘Svet, my sincere apologies, but I’ve caught a type of illness and passed out on the ground. A servant had come to pick me up and brought me to my house so I can heal. Have a good life, Svetlana.’
Svet held onto the letter, her heart sinking as she read Harrison’s words. A feeling of emptiness spread through her chest, and tears welled up in her eyes. She had been so close, so hopeful, and now he was gone. The weight of disappointment and loss bore down on her, and she sank to the ground, clutching the letter to her chest as she cried.
Days turned into weeks, and Svet struggled to come to terms with Harrison’s sudden disappearance. She couldn’t believe that he was just gone, that their plans for the future had been shattered so abruptly. She searched for any news of him, asking servants and inquiring with friends, but there was no trace of him. It was as if he had vanished from the face of the earth.
As the months passed, the truth slowly unraveled. It was a cold and rainy day when Svet received the news she had been dreading. A servant had come from the Davis, bearing a somber expression. She hesitated before speaking, her voice gentle but laden with sorrow.
“Duke and Duchess Raunch, and Lady Raunch, I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this,” The servant began, his eyes filled with empathy, “But Harrison… he didn’t just fall ill. He passed away.”
Svet’s heart stopped. The words reverberated through her, leaving an ache that cut deep into her soul. She felt as if the ground had been ripped from beneath her feet, and the pain was suffocating. She could hardly comprehend it – Harrison, the one she had grown so fond of, the one she had dared to dream of a future with, was no longer a part of this world.
Her tears flowed uncontrollably as she absorbed the truth. The pain was overwhelming, an agony that consumed her entirely. She remembered the times they had shared, the moments when she believed they had something special. And now, it was all gone, leaving her with nothing but memories and heartache.
In the following months, Svet retreated from the world. The garden that had once been a place of hope and possibility now seemed like a graveyard of broken dreams. She wore her grief like a heavy shroud, isolating herself from those around her. The days were a blur of tears, sleepless nights, and an unrelenting ache in her heart.
She held onto the letter Harrison had left her, reading it over and over again, as if the words would somehow bring him back. She found solace in the memory of his kiss on her forehead, in the fleeting moments of tenderness they had shared. But the pain of his absence was a constant reminder of what could have been.
It was worse that her father had decided to abandon their home country with shame, moved to Germany.
“Svetlana, what are you thinking of?” Belle asked her cousin who had come to visit all the way from Germany as they drank tea.
“Do you know a man by the name Harrison, Harrison Davis?” He was an englishman but maybe Belle might have heard of him.
“You mean Earl Harrison Davis?” Svet blinked, “Tall, curly haired, brown eyed. I know him, his mother is friends with mine, they talk business often.”
“He is an earl already, you’re telling me, he has not passed away?”
Belle laughed like Svet had said something incredulous, “I wish that was the case but no, any problems?”
Something in Svet expression shifted as she stared at Belle.
“He’s engaged, engaged to a friend of mine, Lady Azucena. She’s quite lovely,” Belle expressed with fondness in her voice, as Svet stared in disgust.
“I don’t like Lady Azucena.” Svet replied and Belle raised her brow. “Do you even know Lady Azucena? No so how come you don’t like her?”
“Her name, it displeases me.”
“Really? I think you guys would make the best of friends. Perhaps someday I shall have you meet.” Belle said giving Svet a look, like she knew something but looked the other way.
@raviola - Azucena mentioned