
Wherein Valentina is on a downward spiral.
Valentina’s mood changed with the weather. Bright sunny days made her cheerful, almost ecstatic. She would dance through her home, bake cookies and cakes, toil in the garden - planting herself as deeply in the earth as she could. On gloomy, sleet-filled days she could hardly get herself to rise; a challenge she only overcame with utmost exertion. Breakfast goods - usually left by Rose - were tasteless textures in her mouth, washed away with too bland or too bitter tea.
Several times over the season, she presented herself to her mother, the couturier and the goldsmith. She sat and let herself be prodded. Perhaps for the first time in her life, she was impervious to Venlica’s stinging remarks.
One afternoon, as she was donning her cloak after yet another visit, Theodora surprised her with an appearance.
"You don’t know how good you have it," her sister sneered.
Valentina blinked, turning to face her accuser.
"You are all mother talks about. Perfect Valentina, with her perfect Prince, and her perfect dress, and the perfect wedding date." Her sister’s tone mimicked Venlica’s. "I hate you. You do not even want this, do you? Yet everything is once again thrown at you."
Valentina blinked again, taking a step back. Theodora’s words pierced the veil around her heart. "I am sorry."
"About what?"
She didn’t know. She blinked and thought, and thought and blinked, yet couldn’t figure it out.
"Well?" Theodora asked, her tone softer.
Valentina pressed her lips together to keep herself from crying. When she felt she could speak without losing her composure completely, she croaked: "I am sorry I have never considered you a friend." She didn’t know where the words came from; they were sincere nonetheless.
Theodora frowned at her feet, her righteous indignation stunted by this weird apology. "Yeah, well…" she shrugged. "You should know how good you have got it. I would marry Selanar in an instant."
Valentina was a breath away from saying her sister could have him, and his babies, and his promise of anything – anything at all.
"I am going home," was all she said. Fatigue pulled at her frame. She couldn’t find it in her to lift her feet properly as she walked out of the foyer and into the waiting carriage.
Home was empty. As empty as it had been when she had first walked in. The carefully assembled décor merely obscured the stark truth; a house was just a house. A dry place to sleep.
Only when Bosra and Rose returned for the night did Valentina feel part of something good again. Not just this one instance, but every day since her engagement.
~
Why stop at one e-novella?
A Christmas Pup is set in the Bachelor Pack universe, but features unrelated characters and storylines. All romance, no smut.
Available for pre-order on Amazon.com
Or contact Zanna Bear for ARC options or private sale.
