Rocío had avoided dinner with her family for two days, in fact, she was able to avoid everyone during those two days, she managed to make them believe that she was too under the weather and that she couldn't possibly have anyone visit her for the same reason. However, today was a different story, her mother made sure to inform her that her presence at dinner was needed. In fact, she wrote that it was 'imperative'. Which meant that if she weren't there that evening, she would face the consequences, which most likely meant she would be barred from leaving the house, even so much as step into the gardens.

With all the courage she could muster, she stepped into the dining room. Everyone was already seated in their respective seats, while the table was set extravagantly. Dishes from all over the kingdom were displayed before the family, from soups, to fruit platters and so on. Santiago stood from his seat and offered an encouraging smile. Rocío nodded at him and sat down next to Elena before Santiago also sat back down, on the left of the Duchess.

No one spoke as the Duke lifted his hand to call the server. The Duke was a big man, his shoulders were wide and his physique was more akin to a coal miner than a noble. His dark brown hair was neatly gelled back and his imposing blue eyes locked on to Rocío. Probably for the first time in years.

"I see you're feeling better," his deep and strict voice cut through the room, causing Rocío's stomach to drop and the hair on her arms to stand.

Rocío was rendered speechless for a few seconds. She couldn't remember the last time he'd addressed her, and so publicly at that. "Yes..." it was all she could think to reply.

"After such a spectacle you caused, you took quite a bit of time for yourself," he commented, picking up his fork and knife and slicing through a steak.

Rocío sat motionless, unsure if she was allowed to reply. She gripped the skirt of her dress on her lap and fidgeted with the lace trim.

"I've received a few letters now, inquiring about...you."

Rocío's eyes shot up and she locked eyes with her brother for a mere second before she turned towards her father, not quite ready to look him in the eyes. "M-me?" The grip on her dress tightened. "What type of inquiries?"

The Duke chewed down on the steak. He took his time to reply, everyone at the table staring at him and still not touching the food. His gaze jumped between his children to his wife and then back to Rocío. "Am I the only one having dinner?" He set his knife down and reached for the glass of wine.

As if it were a command, everyone managed to take a bite of whatever dish was closest to them. Elena chewed on a roasted potato while Santiago took a bite of the pork. The Duchess was diligently eating her salad and Rocío grabbed a toasted bread. Only the shuffling of their arms and the occasional chew was heard.

"Well, you've been of age for six years now, you should've gotten married years ago. You never attend any social events and those you do you barely talk to anyone," his tone was still grave, "It's about time you marry, and I've already received letters from a few men. It seems you did something right at your sister's debut ball."

Rocío gulped the bread down. "Father, I don't think marri–"

"Rocío," the way he said her name frightened her, as if his very voice was a sharp sword lunged into her chest, "You are what, twenty-six years old now? You debuted late, you are reaching an age where you will no longer be seen as desirable. Have you thought about your future?"

"Of course, but I–"

"You will meet each of the suitors, and you will marry one. Is that clear?"

Rocío gasped. "Father–"

"Viscount Ernesto's son, from Aliso," he tapped his chin, "If I remember correctly his name was Lisandro, he seems to be the most advantageous to marry. I would appreciate it if you would highly consider him."

"Lisandro? You can't possibly be serious, Father!" She shot up from her seat, her chair scraping against the wooden floor. "He's known to be a gambler!"

The entire table looked at her in shock, save for her father as his expression was more akin to fury than shock. Santiago's jaw had dropped while her mother's hand was clasped over her mouth in scandal and Elena's eyes were as wide as saucers. Rocío gulped, realizing she'd just raised her voice, an unspoken rule after Santiago had been locked in the small cabin in the woods for two days when he'd done the same.

His icey eyes narrowed on her. "He is to inherit his father's title, and at your age you can't possibly hope to marry into anything more than a viscounty."

Rocío took a shaky breath as her eyes began to flood. She steadied herself by leaning on the table, not yet wanting to sit down and back out, but also afraid to let her father see her as a weak daughter.

"Father," Santiago interrupted, "due to the war and the political climate, Rocío was unable to wed earlier, but we shouldn't rush her, this is a heavy decision. I think it's bes–"

"Silence, Santiago, this is not your conversation. Don't you think that you should also be looking for a bride? I've let you two do whatever you've pleased for years now, you and your romance with that no-name maid, Santiago, and you," he turned to Rocío, countenance twisted in anger, "your constant defiance of me."

Rocío's body was starting to shake, not with fear or sadness, but with pure rage. "Defiance?" She scoffed. "I have been nothing but a good daughter to you. I have been perfectly poise, demure, and silent! And for what?" She hit the table with her closed fist "If you would have preferred me to go out, spend the duchy's money, party until morning, and be seen with countless men then maybe I should've done that."

"Rocío," Elena whispered as took her hand and tried to calm her down.

Rocío shook off her sister's hand. "No, Elena, I'm tired of this. I'm tired of Father's constant dismissal of my own sacrifices. I've done everything for this family, just so you would all accept me, but it seems I was stupid. Father is just a selfish, resentful–"

Crash!

A plate was smashed into pieces after the Duke threw it on the floor, everyone– including the staff– jumped.

"That's enough!" The Duke's voice shook the room. "I've let you run your mouth long enough, Rocío." He stood from his chair and stalked towards her, grabbing her arm and clamping his hand around it with the strength of a bear. "You've defied me for the last time!" He roared.

Rocío yelped as he yanked her roughly. With the sudden motion, she stumbled over her chair and tumbled to the floor.

"If only it'd been you," he hissed as he removed his cravat, wrapping one end of it around his hand and stretching it out with his other.

Santiago jumped from his seat, not wasting a second in putting himself between Rocío and their father. "W-wait," he coughed.

"Out of my way, Santiago."

Rocío couldn't see her father's face, but she could hear the wrath in his voice.

"No, Father, you need to calm down," Santiago lifted his hands.

"I won't hurt her," he assured, but his voice was still laced with poison. "Now, move."

Santiago shook his head. "Not until you've calmed down," his voice was clear and with no hint of fear.

Rocío managed to stand up, not without wincing at the pain in her hipbone and the burning in her hand from the carpet burn. She took a deep breath as she steadied herself and swallowed her emotions, dusting off her dress.

Elena also jumped from her seat and rushed towards them. She took her father's arm and looked up at him with her doe eyes. "Santiago's right, Papi, how about we all calm down?"

Rocío finally saw her father's face soften as he looked down at Elena. It was as if she were the only thing in the world that could change him in the blink of an eye. Slowly, he loosened his grip on the cravat and let it fall to the floor. Rocío didn't notice that she'd clenched her fists until the pain of her nails digging into her palm had snapped her out of it.

"You will meet Sir Lisandro whether or not you like him, am I understood?" The Duke turned back to Rocío, his eyes were dark and imposing once more.

"Yes, Father," she mumbled and lowered her head in a nod but she didn't look back up. Instead she waited until she heard the hard thumping of her father's footsteps as they left the room.

Once the Duke had left, Rocío, Santiago, and Elena breathed out in unison.

"Are you alright?" Santiago turned to her and took a hold of her arm. "Were you hurt?"

Rocío instinctively rubbed her wrist, easing the hot skin that burned from her Father's grip. She nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm fine," she mumbled, not looking up at him. She stared off at a spot on the floor, thinking it over.

There was some shuffling before a chair was moved and the three siblings looked towards their mother that had finally stood up. Her honey eyes locked onto Rocío's and she immediately looked away.

"I should be off," she murmured, barely going unheard by her children. She then walked out of the room, as if nothing had transpired.

Santiago's jaw clenched and Rocío could immediately tell he was holding back whatever he wished to express. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked back towards his sisters. "Alright, let's get you back to your room," he offered, leading Rocío towards the door. "We can get some food delivered to your room, what do you think?"

Rocío couldn't get her father's ice cold gaze out of her mind, nor could she erase the memory of his anger-twisted face. His frightening countenance was burned into the back of her eyelids, possibly to haunt her for the next few days. Suppressing the tears in her eyes was enough to keep her mind occupied as her brother ushered her through the halls.

"Whatever Father says, don't mind him," Santiago scoffed, "I won't let him marry you off to a horrible man like Sir Lisandro. You don't even have to meet him, I'll drive him away for you, all you have to do is tell me when he comes."

Rocío simply nodded along, still reminded of her father's face.

Santiago paused. "Rocío, are you sure you're alright?" His brows furrowed and his lips stretched into a thin line, concern written all over his face.

"Hm?" She looked up at him. "Ah, yes, I guess...I'm just shocked." She tried to smile so as to placate her brother's concern.

Santiago's eyes filled with pain. "I'm so sorry this happened," he brought her into a tight hug.

Rocío frowned, "It's not your fault. Father was just cross with me is all."

Santiago pulled away. "Cross is an understatement," he chuckled bitterly before squeezing her arms gently. "I'm sorry I didn't defend you better."

Rocío offered him a soft and tender smile. "You did more than enough," she assured him. "Plus, you know Father, Elena is the only one who can talk any sense into him."

"I know," he groaned, "I just wish I could've done more."

Rocío took his hand and rubbed circles on it gently. "You and I did the best we could. Now, let's talk about something else. Has mother really sent a letter out to Marquis Félix inviting him for tea?" She then continued down the hallway, being followed closely by her brother.

Santiago sighed, "Yes, it's true."

"Hm." Rocío nodded. "Are you not looking forward to it? Aren't the two of you friends?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, we are," her brother nodded. "We became quite close after he was stationed with us."

"Was that after the famous Battle of Meldelio?"

Santiago nodded. "Yes, I remember being quite nervous to meet him for the first time, the rumours had always said he was so ruthless."

"Well, he did brutally kill an entire squadron of Emer's knights, didn't he?"

"Yes..." he looked down. "It was quite the affair."

"Is that why you're worried about his coming?"

Santiago shook his head. "No, whatever he did in battle was rather justified, though I can't help but be worried about your reaction to him."

Rocío raised an eyebrow. "Why? Are you afraid I'll fall for him?" She teased.

Santiago laughed. "No, no...I, I am being senseless. Either way, having him come visit is good news."

She wouldn't quite classify his visit as good news but she agreed it was a change. "Has a date been set?"

"Sometime early next week is what I hear," Santiago informed her, clasping his hands behind his back. "I was hoping to catch up with him a bit more after his tea time with you and mother."

"Then will you be riding out?"

Santiago nodded. "Well, that's the plan. If it decides to rain, then I'll entertain him in my office."

"Surely you'll offer him some good wine if it comes to that. You can't possibly entertain him with that bitter stuff you have."

He laughed. "I'm afraid he likes bitter wines too, Rosie."

"Both of you have no sense of taste," she blew a raspberry and sped up, causing Santiago to pick up his pace as well.