Her words were meant to offer encouragement, but they only served as a reminder of the expectations placed upon me. I felt like a puppet in a carefully choreographed performance, with everyone else dictating my moves and decisions.
Roman’s mother, a poised woman with an air of sophistication, offered a supportive smile. “It takes strength to endure, my dear. Remember, you have the support of our family as well.”
I appreciated the sentiment, though I wasn’t entirely sure if the support was genuine or just a social nicety. After all, they were here to discuss a potential partnership between our families, which made it difficult to discern the true motives behind their kindness.
Our plates arrived, showcasing beautifully prepared fish. A waiter gracefully placed our meals before us, and I picked up my fork, trying to focus on the food in front of me instead of letting my thoughts drift to my savior, trapped in the lab below.
As the fragrant aroma of the dishes wafted through the air, I tried to maneuver my knife and fork to slice the filet, but the delicate fish seemed to resist my efforts. Each attempt to cut through left me more flustered than the last, and I felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up my cheeks. The tender flesh either slipped away or was mercilessly squashed beneath my inexpert hands.
I bet Ky’rn could tear through a fish the size of himself effortlessly, but here I was, struggling to cut a filet.
“Need a hand with that?” Roman’s smooth voice broke my concentration. I looked up to find his eyes twinkling with mirth. He glanced at my plate, the subtle arch of his brow betraying his amusement.
“I’ve got it, thanks,” I replied hastily, my pride slightly wounded. The polite smile I forced didn’t quite reach my eyes.
He leaned in, bouncing an eyebrow playfully. “Are you sure? I’ve been told I wield a knife quite proficiently. But if you change your mind, let me know.”
I chuckled, the tension dissipating. “Thank you, Roman, but I think I can manage.” I paused, glancing down at the mangled piece of fish. “Do you always offer to cut a lady’s fish for her?”
His face reddened slightly. “Only when I’m trying to impress,” he admitted sheepishly, a playful glint in his eye.
Throughout dinner, everyone engaged in hushed conversations about trivial matters. Their voices washed over me like a distant tide while guilt gnawed at me with each bite I took. Here I was, dining on exquisite fresh fish, while Ky’rn subsisted on a diet of frozen, lifeless prey.
It brought the disparities between our worlds into stark relief.
As the evening wore on, I tried my best to engage in the conversation, taking occasional sips from my wine glass to mask my discomfort. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t fit into this world of societal expectations and family legacies.
Suddenly, Roman turned to my grandfather with an eager expression. “Sir, I’ve heard so much about your collection. Would it be possible for me to see it?”
My grandfather’s eyes sparkled with pride. “Of course, Roman.” He lifted his wine glass toward me, his probing gaze locked onto mine. “Isla, why don’t you give him a tour of the garden on our way to the museum?”
A lump formed in my throat at the suggestion.
My grandfather was eager to marry me off, and this walk in the rooftop garden was clearly his way of pushing me to consider Roman as a potential spouse.
Forcing a polite smile, I agreed, rising from my chair. “Of course, Grandfather.”
Roman seemed to catch on and stood too, his eyes never leaving mine. “After you,” he murmured, offering his arm.
Tentatively, I took it, leading him through the grand ballroom and into the hallway adorned with sparkling chandeliers and priceless artworks. As we approached the door leading to the garden, my pace quickened, eager for the fresh air.
The music from the grand ballroom was muted as we stepped out into the moonlit garden. The cool night air was refreshing, brushing against my skin and rustling the leaves of the meticulously maintained plants.
I stood still for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to calm my heart and allow the heat to drain from my body after being trapped inside the ballroom with all those bodies and lights shining down on us.
I hated the expectations and burdens that came with our family names. Amidst the grandeur and politics, was there room for genuine emotion? For personal desires and dreams? A connection built on shared dreams and aspirations, rather than duty?
The thought of commitment, especially under external pressure, made me wary.
I yearned for the freedom to forge my own path, in love and in life. The fact that Sam and Rose were still at large, lurking in the shadows, hidden from both my grandfather and law authorities, made me feel confined more than the facility’s walls and island location did.
“You have a beautiful garden here,” Roman commented, glancing at the exotic flora that surrounded us. Each plant had been handpicked by my grandfather from various parts of the world.
“Thank you.” I nodded, forcing a polite smile. “My grandfather takes great pride in it.”
“Your grandfather seems to take pride in many things. Especially his collection.” His curious eyes searched mine.
I exhaled a sigh and led him down the stone pathway. “He does. He’s always had a strong interest in collecting unique and exotic stuff—it gives him something to do—but since my parents died, he’s become more preoccupied with his collection.”
