Episodio 12

The sun was already rising when the last guests departed. Tabitha bid her grandfather goodnight and retired to her room, but her heart was far from tranquil. After much deliberation, she reflected on Ethan's proposal and finally reached a decision. She would accept his offer; after all, she loved him and he loved her—what more could one desire? That afternoon, when he arrived in the mansion's garden, she was awaiting him, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

“Ethan.” she began, lifting her gaze to meet his. His eyes were brimming with intensity and hope. She took a deep breath, mustering her courage. “Yes, Ethan.” She said, her voice firm yet laden with emotion. “I accept your proposal of marriage.”

For a moment, he remained silent, as if processing her words. Then, a broad and genuine smile illuminated his face. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and grasped her hands.

“I promise you will never regret this decision, Tabitha. I will protect you, love you, and cherish you until my last breath.”

She blushed, but maintained her gaze. “I know, Ethan.” she said, breaking into a wide smile.

Shortly after their conversation, the two of them walked together to the Count's office. The Count was seated in his usual armchair, reading a letter, but he lifted his gaze as soon as they entered.

“Ethan, Tabitha.” He said, studying their expressions with curiosity. “It seems something important has occurred. Please, have a seat.”

The two obeyed, exchanging a brief look before Ethan took the floor.

“My Lord.” he began, his voice firm yet respectful. ” I am here to request your permission and blessing to marry Tabitha. I love your granddaughter, and I will do everything to ensure her happiness and protection.”

The Count remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed upon them. Tabitha felt her heart racing, apprehensive of his reaction. Then, to her surprise, the Count's expression softened into a warm smile.

“Ethan,” he said, leaning slightly forward, “nothing would bring me more joy. I have always considered you like a son. And knowing that my granddaughter will marry you gives me peace of mind.”

Tabitha sighed with relief, while Ethan squeezed her hand. “Thank you, My Lord,” Ethan replied, his voice filled with gratitude.

The Count stood up and walked towards them. He placed one hand on Ethan's shoulder and the other on Tabitha's. “You have my blessing, my children. May this marriage be the beginning of a life filled with happiness and fulfillment.”

Tabitha smiled, feeling safer and happier than she had in a long time.

The night before the official announcement of Ethan and Tabitha's engagement was supposed to be calm, but Ethan's friends insisted on going out to celebrate. After all, it wasn't every day that a confirmed bachelor like him was getting married. Ethan agreed to join them.

They met at their usual club in London, where they toasted to this new phase of his life. Ethan, however, did not feel comfortable. His instincts were on edge. He felt a chill running down his spine, and something about the situation seemed wrong, but he dismissed it as anxiety about the impending wedding. After a few rounds, he declined more drinks and said his goodbyes.

“I've done my part, gentlemen. Enjoy the rest of the night, for I have something very important awaiting me tomorrow.” he said, leaving them with laughter and farewells.

As he walked through the silent streets toward his house in Mayfair, the cold wind cut through the stillness of the night. Ethan realized he was not alone. Without warning, a muffled sound came from behind him. He tried to turn, but something hard struck his head. The world faded.

When he briefly regained consciousness, he heard muffled voices and felt the creaking of carriage boards beneath him. He couldn’t see, but the smell of leather and iron filled his nostrils. He struggled against unconsciousness, but the pain in his head was unbearable.

“Is it him?” a male voice asked.

“Yes, the very one. Scorpio will be pleased to know we’ve captured him.” the second voice dripped with sarcasm.

Ethan tried to move, but strong hands gripped him, and another blow sent him back into darkness. Ethan’s head throbbed as if hammers were echoing inside. The hard surface he lay on and the incessant swaying indicated he was on a ship. The smell of saltwater, damp wood, and human sweat confirmed his suspicion. But before he could process anything more, a solicitous voice broke in.

“How are you feeling, friend?” asked a middle-aged man in a tone of false calm. “You’ve been unconscious for almost two days, you know?”

Ethan tried to block out the weak light coming from a small opening above him by placing his arm over his eyes. A sudden wave of nausea overcame him, but the discomfort was less than the growing panic in his mind. Something was terribly wrong. With a hoarse cry, he suddenly sat up.

“Tabitha!” The word escaped his lips, echoing in the ship's hold. The man beside him placed a hand on his shoulder, attempting to calm him.

“Calm down, friend. You’re safe... For now.”

Ethan opened his eyes, still trying to adjust to the oppressive darkness and the ship’s rolling motion. He saw more men scattered about the space, sitting or lying down, all shackled. Some wore expressions of defeat, while others seemed hardened, having already accepted their fate. His gaze returned to the man who had spoken. He was a thin fellow, with gray hair and a scar that marred his left cheek.