Valeria was in her room, with the morning light filtering through the linen curtains. Clara, her maid and closest confidante, was finishing the final details of her hairstyle. The scent of fresh flowers decorating the vanity filled the room, but the young heiress could barely concentrate on the mirror. There was something turning over in her head, a restless concern that made her bite her lower lip every so often. Finally, she decided to trust Clara's discretion and dared to speak.
"Clara…" she said in a low voice, with a certain shyness, "do you know of any contraceptive method?"
The young maid, who until that moment had worked in silence, blushed immediately. Her hands stopped on the ribbon fastening Valeria's dress and, with a slight stutter, she responded:
"Yes, Miss…" she admitted, lowering her gaze. "I did not know how to start this conversation, but before coming to help you I stopped by the infirmary. I asked for some medicinal herbs that, according to the matrons, serve to prevent pregnancy."
Valeria arched her eyebrows, surprised. Through the mirror, she noticed Clara's nervousness, but also the seriousness with which she spoke.
"How… how is it that you know? Did you see us enter last night?" she asked, overwhelmed by the idea of having been discovered.
Clara pressed her hands against her skirt and, completely crimson, confessed:
"There is no need to spy on you, Miss. My room is right next to yours… and the walls are far too thin."
Valeria covered her face with both hands upon understanding the implications. Shame ran through her body in a shiver. Clara, with her innocent sincerity, had just confirmed that she had heard every sigh, every groan, every word she shared with Diego the night before.
"I am sorry, Clara…" Valeria murmured, with a hint of guilt. "It was not my intention to discomfort you in that way."
"You have nothing to apologize for, Miss." Clara smiled sweetly, trying to lighten the mood. "I am going to prepare the tea for you immediately."
In a few minutes, she placed a steaming cup in her hands. Valeria brought it to her lips without hesitation. The taste was bitter, almost unpleasant, but she drank it all without complaining. Upon setting the cup aside, she looked at Clara with gratitude.
"Thank you… truly," she said softly.
"It is nothing, Valeria," the maid responded, with a slight hesitation in calling her by her name. "But, if you allow me, I would like to ask you a question."
"Of course, tell me."
"Are you and Prince Diego… going to become engaged again?"
Valeria sighed. The mere mention of an engagement awakened conflicting feelings in her.
"We have not spoken of that yet," she responded with sincerity.
Clara hesitated an instant before insisting:
"I think you should do it, Miss… I mean, Valeria. The Prince must take responsibility for what happened between you."
Valeria turned toward her, with a sympathetic but firm smile.
"No, Clara. If Diego and I become engaged again, I want it to be because we both decide it. Not because someone forces us."
"I understand…" Clara lowered her voice. "But, in any case, it worries me. You know how a lady's purity is judged in these times. If this were to become known, your reputation could be stained forever."
Valeria pressed her lips together.
"I know you are right. In this world, purity seems to be a woman's highest value. But let me tell you something: a woman's worth does not consist of that."
Clara looked at her with wonder.
"Perhaps you are right, but there are very few people who think that way, Valeria."
"Then it is up to me to be one of them," she responded firmly. Then, softening her expression, she added: "But enough of this subject. Let's go to the dining hall, shall we?"
Clara nodded and followed her in silence.
The dining hall was lively that morning. Valeria joined her friends and Rosalia, who were already chatting animatedly about plans for the weekend. Amidst laughter and confidences, Amanda suddenly asked:
"Girls, who is staying this weekend?"
"I will not return until I finish my studies," Rosalia said with a resigned gesture. "The trip to my home is too exhausting to do every few days."
"I do have to return," Valeria responded. "I promised my brothers that I would travel to see them without missing a single weekend."
One by one, the others shared their plans. In the end, the only one who would remain at the academy was Rosalia.
"It seems you are leaving me alone," she said with a pout, though her voice retained a certain cheerfulness.
"Do not worry, Rosalia," Emily said with a smile. "It is only this weekend. Next time I will stay with you."
The conversation continued for a few more minutes before each headed to their classes. Rosalia, for her part, walked to her classroom and sat in the same spot as the day before. Just moments later, Abel entered and noticed her with a downcast look.
"What is wrong, Miss Rosalia?" he asked, with sincere concern. "I notice you are sad."
"It is nothing serious. It is just that this weekend everyone will return home and I will be left alone."
Abel smiled warmly.
"You have nothing to worry about. I will stay as well… and I can keep you company."
"Really?" Rosalia responded, her face lighting up with a radiant smile.
"Really." The Prince felt a flutter in his chest seeing her so happy. "So do not be sad. We can do many things together."
"Thank you…!" Rosalia squealed, before throwing herself to hug him.
The gesture took everyone by surprise, as several students observed the scene with interest. Abel, though disconcerted, reciprocated the hug shyly. Rosalia, realizing what she was doing, pulled away immediately, her face flushed.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
Abel, also blushing, smiled at her tenderly.
"There is nothing to apologize for."
Class began shortly after, and although both tried to concentrate, Abel could not help but look at her from the corner of his eye time and again. Rosalia was different from the others. She did not seek to impress, nor did she pretend to be what she was not. She was naive, spontaneous, and authentic.
And, without realizing it, Abel began to look at her in a different way. No longer just as a friend.
For the first time, the Prince thought that perhaps it was worth trying to get closer to her. Maybe it would not be a waste of time to let himself be carried away by what he was beginning to feel.