Chereads / Lost: To Be Found / Chapter 3 - No room for error

Chapter 3 - No room for error

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Her footsteps were slow and heavy.

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Her heart pounded fast.

The hallway to the Baron's office was long and it became longer as Dahlia dragged her feet. The whole ordeal felt like a gauntlet when a hundred pairs of eyes watched her. As if she was walking to the gallows and every servant in the building was thrilled to watch the spectacle.

She wouldn't die of course. It hadn't happened earlier when tensions were even more tense. Without a doubt, today wouldn't be that bad of a day in comparison to the past, but that hardly mattered. Memories of her father's office were so deeply embedded that even entering while the room was empty would be enough to make her shaken for an hour or two.

The room had long since become her least favourite and represented everything she hated in her life. The room belonged to the heir of the household. At one point it was thought to be her room though she didn't truly want it even back then. Now its mere existence was salt to rub into her wounds.

But what the room represented aside, what truly frightened her were the memories. Of her gasping and crying, begging for it all to stop. Begging for forgiveness for a sin that wasn't her fault. The girl in her memories should have died many times over and had she not been walking on her own two feet right now, she would have had a hard time believing the contrary.

Her feet sank into the plush red carpet in front of the massive dark wooden doors and she could feel sweat already soaking into her clothes.

'In and out. That's how I breathe, and that's how I treat the room. Don't forget to breathe. Don't forget to leave as soon as possible.'

Following the small mantra, she took a few deep pacifying breaths before her shaking hand to the handle.

"Good. It took you long enough. You know what to do."

A deep baritone resounded through the room, seeming to come from a handsome man with short cropped golden hair. His head remained down, a fountain pen in his hand as he went over documents that likely weren't very pressing.

As the occasional scratch of the pen echoed in the room, Dahlia took her spot. Standing slightly to the side of the desk, she maintained a rigid posture. Her eyes flickered to a cabinet door that was currently closed and she let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief.

'I guess we are skipping his more violent hobbies for today.'

Though in her head the tone was facetious, that attitude hardly carried through to her actual mentality. Her senses were hyper-alert with each sudden scratch of the pen almost making her jump out of her skin.

When the Baron's finger suddenly began to lightly tap on the top of his desk she nearly passed out from the sudden movement and anxiety it brought. Had her eyes not been drifting around to distract herself, she might have noticed the faint, self-satisfied smirk that formed on the Baron's face at that time.

She had settled on taking in every detail of a new painting hung on the wall. It was far too opulent considering the standing of a baron house, not to mention the family's dire finances, but her parents didn't spare such expense. In fact, demonstrating wealth and noble prestige had become even more emphasised as time went by. It was as if they thought that throwing money at random art would suddenly make them as wealthy as they portrayed.

Buying this piece of art was a horrendously idiotic and impulsive decision, but Dahlia was thanking that idiocy for giving her something to focus on in that moment. Her legs were aching and she was about halfway through taking in the smaller textures or the art piece when the screeching of a chair shifting was suddenly heard making her entire body stiffen like a board.

"Your mother told me how a couple of your steps were lagging when practising the Imperial Waltz today. Tsk Tsk, I'm starting to think even sending you to the debutante would be a waste. What do you think we should do with you, hmm?"

There was a playful glint in his eyes as he looked over his daughter. As she squirmed where she stood and continuously averted her eyes, he couldn't help but have a sense of glee. Something about being feared made him relish how pathetic she was. It almost made up for her disappointments. Almost.

"F-father, I um, was just p-practising the waltz after injuring my leg earlier in the day. I… I thought it was best to learn to dance even while being hampered which is why we kept practising even after the injury. I apologise for not being able to maintain my form."

Both of them knew the accuracy of what she said and it wasn't far from the truth. While practising dance, it was common practice for her mother to whip her; yesterday, she had just gotten more physical than usual. The claim that she was practising while injured for the purpose of improving was only the reason her mother forced on her at the time.

"Very well, let's not play this game any longer. We both know what happened more or less and, while I'm still not pleased, I'm rather rushed right now and we have important matters to discuss."

He had walked over to a filing cabinet and retrieved a set of folders before returning to the desk and casually tossing them down.

"I think it's about time you came to terms with the situation and began studying in earnest. I know you've been putting off your homework."

The Baron's eyes narrowed as he looked at his daughter. In his eyes, the girl had only one purpose by that point and that was to be sold off. Meanwhile, Dahlia's hands had balled into fists so tight that she was near drawing blood. Her shaking body was even clamier than earlier as she looked down on the files.

"Father, I understand that you want to find a suitor, but isn't this…"

'Too much' is what she wanted to say, but she cut herself off. His already narrowed eyes started to have a dangerous glint in them and she knew any further disobedience might cause her father to change plans and bring out the cane. Instead she stayed quiet as she tried to get control of her breathing again.

"I think what you mean to say is 'yes father, of course.' I expect so little of you, so if you can't even do this then I don't know what to think."

Seeing that she was too busy shaking in place to focus on speaking, he took that chance to continue while leaning back in the plush chair.

"What you have here are three files. Each has a portfolio dedicated to a different suitor we are considering. I didn't cut corners Dahlia and I expect you don't either. I sourced as much information as legally available and plenty more was gained through less savoury means. I expect you to not only read and memorise each of these, but I expect your own handwritten report creating a profile of each target that details what attracts them, turns them away, what they need, what leverage can be used, etc etc. I want a full essay detailing how you expect to seduce each of these men, do you understand?"

He knew she did. After all, although she was a failure, she wasn't stupid. He knew that fact, but by this point had come to not care. Despite not caring though, he was still well aware of her abilities and formatting a profile like this could be done in short order.

Dahlia however, had other things on her mind. Not only was her stomach twisting after hearing what was expected of her, but her thoughts were spiralling again.

'Seduce? Did he say seduce?'

The word made her want to vomit. Something about the idea of being inviting towards these noblemen truly shook her to the core.

'What does he expect? How far does he want me to go? Flirting? Touching? More…'

She could taste the bile in her throat as she tried and failed to maintain her composure. Approaching hyperventilating, she tried to calm her nerves. She knew the work had to be done unless she wanted severe consequences but… well, she'd figure things out one step at a time.

"G-go on then. Is there anything I should know before taking the files away?"

She asked the question hoping to placate her father more than anything else. This was successful as the Baron smirked, seeing her give in slightly. He cleared his throat and opened the portfolios to their front pages showing a few pictures and a brief synopsis.

All three could be seen to have distinctly different ages. One young noble in his early twenties with brown hair and tan skin; based on the pictures he looked to be a run of the mill, though from physical features alone, she could tell he was somehow related to the southern sultanate. The next on the list was a corpulent man, with thin grey hair and a sickly pallor that made him look closer to a corpse than a living person in some of the pictures.

Finally, there was a… child? The kid couldn't have been older than 14. He was a porcelain white skinned boy with flowing blond locks of hair. One day he may become a heartthrob, but now… Simply said, seeing even a young boy as one of the top three suitors made Dahlia's heart sink.

'Surely this is as bad as it gets, right?'

She almost smiled at that thought. After all, it could get much, much worse. Her father decided to help prove it too.

"Listen closely. Of the three you have Viceroy Ahmad who is a foreign dignitary of The Sultanate and was granted title here in The Empire. Then you have Count Torivald who has recently taken a huge interest in resource production and trade, having developed four major mines in the last year alone. Then finally you have Lord Alcaster who is the heir to the Alcaster Dukedom."

He gave Dahlia a meaningful look before continuing.

"Of the three, he's the one I expect you to try the hardest for. I don't think I need to explain why"

After hearing that he'd one day be a duke, no, it wasn't a surprise.

'But seriously? He belongs in childcare, not as a husband to anyone.'

Her sceptical thoughts clearly seeped through to her face as the Baron cleared his throat, grabbing her attention and making her jump from the sudden loud noise.

"He may look young, but he's wealthy and that's all that really matters. He alone has more power in his hands than every person in our barony combined and he could save or destroy our family at the smallest whim. That's why I must clarify. He is a target for you to seduce and entice by any means necessary. We cannot afford to make a mistake and be on his bad side."

After taking a sip of some cold tea on his desk, he smirked.

"Besides, he's as much of an adult as you are. Actually, he awaked before you, so in some ways he's more of an adult than you. The others will have to wait, but he'll be attending the debutante at the same time as you, so I hope to hear good news when that comes."

He truly seemed to revel in rubbing in her late magical development, as well as seeing how uncomfortable such a young prospective partner made her. He struggled to keep the laughter out of his voice, hoping to carry enough of a firmness to relay just how important this topic was. There would be no room for error.

"Now then, I believed I had mentioned I have work to do. Unless you want to give me reason to take out some frustrations, I suggest you leave now. I also expect to have what I requested before the ceremony three days from now, am I clear?"

The question wasn't necessary. Most of it was just posturing to make him seem tough, but he enjoyed the act and Dahlia was so shaken that she hardly noticed it anyway.

"Y-yes, father. It will be done. Th-thankyou for giving me this opportunity."

Those words were rehearsed and reused again and again as a tried and true response. It was one of the few things she knew she could say without receiving ridicule. It was also convenient that it was so second nature, as currently her brain was going haywire and thinking of anything was a struggle.

Dahlia practically stumbled out of the office, quickly closing the heavy door behind her. The world was spinning and the pressure was mounting more and more. The more she talked to her parents these days, the more she realised how worthless her hope of becoming accepted again really was. It was to the point where it was a delusion and although she knew it was such, she still clutched onto her hopes like a frayed safety blanket.

She was clinging onto that sad threadbare metaphor of a blanket all the way back to her room, not even taking in her surroundings until she finally sat down. Rubbing and holding her face with both hands she let out a long sigh.

Looking down at the portfolios she had brought with her, she calmed her breathing, took a moment to let her roiling stomach settle, and wearily picked up the first one. This was going to be a long couple of days.

"Fuck"