Beatrice reached out to meet me on her own.
When I arrived at the hospital in high heels, I saw Alaric carefully exiting her room with a cup.
I raised an eyebrow. "How rare. Mr. Ashford is playing househusband now?"
Alaric glared at me but hurried off, preoccupied with keeping the water warm.
I suppressed the odd feeling in my chest and pushed open the door to Beatrice's room. She was staring at a sunflower bouquet on the bedside table, her gaze clear and almost transparent.
I plucked a sunflower petal and toyed with it in my hand, teasing her.
"With the way Alaric is fawning over you, I won't have to wait long to step down as Mrs. Ashford, will I?"
Beatrice's smile faded slightly. She looked up at me with a hint of pleading in her expression.
"Eleanor, can we not talk about him?"
---
"What else is there to talk about?" I raised an eyebrow. "Is there anything else between us worth discussing?"
She lowered her head, her fingers clenching tightly, faint red marks visible on her fingertips.
"Eleanor, do you hate me?"
"Why?"
"I ruined your marriage, but I didn't mean to. Alaric isn't reliable—he'll betray you eventually—"
"What does that have to do with you?" My smile faded. "Beatrice, Alaric is my husband. What happens with him is none of your business."
Beatrice's face paled.
---
She looked helpless and aggrieved, her hand unconsciously resting on her abdomen.
I hesitated. "Your child..."
"Gone."
She smiled faintly, her face devoid of any extra emotion. "I never wanted it anyway."
"Why?"
I couldn't understand. "Beatrice, what exactly do you want?"
Beatrice stared at me, her expression dazed.
After a long pause, she tilted her head and smiled, turning her gaze to the sunflowers beside her.
"Eleanor, take me to an amusement park, and I'll tell you everything. Okay?"
---
Beatrice had always loved amusement parks.
At twenty-five, she still acted like a child, wandering around wide-eyed and amazed by everything.
I had just instructed the bodyguards to deal with Alaric when I saw her staring eagerly at a cotton candy stand, her excitement practically radiating.
"Eleanor, I want that."
She pointed at the cotton candy in a child's hand.
I frowned. "If you want it, buy it. Don't you have hands?"
Was she really playing at being three years old?
Beatrice bit her lip, tugging at her dress with a pitiful expression but didn't move an inch.
A suspicion formed in my mind.
"You didn't bring your wallet?"
"I have no money," she said with a bitter smile. "Alaric said I wouldn't need it and took my wallet away."
I stared incredulously. "Is he insane?"
"Probably."
Beatrice absentmindedly took my hand, pleading playfully, "Eleanor, let's not think about him anymore, okay?"
I spent the entire day dragging Beatrice from one attraction to the next. Initially, I held no ill will toward her, and now, seeing her flushed with laughter, damp strands of hair clinging to her forehead, and her soft, fragrant presence beside me, it became impossible to stay angry.
By evening, she leaned against me, sitting on the steps of the carousel. The cool night breeze ruffled her hair as she spoke softly.
"Eleanor, ever since I was little, whenever I wanted to learn something, people would tell me I didn't need to. They'd say others would like me no matter what, so why bother?"
"Eventually, I stopped trying. I became the useless person they expected me to be."
"When I wanted to leave Alaric, no one was willing to help me, and I couldn't do it on my own."
The female lead's charm of being universally adored seemed to have brought Beatrice neither joy nor satisfaction.
She spoke with such confusion and sorrow that I didn't know how to respond.
"Being liked is a skill too," I offered quietly.
She rested her head on my shoulder, laughing softly.
"But I don't want their affection.
"They're selfish and greedy, trying to shape me into what they want... I don't want that."
I pressed my lips together.
Truthfully, I hadn't brought her out to discuss this. But seeing her genuinely upset, her beautiful eyes filled with uncertainty and pain, I couldn't bring myself to cut her off.
Instead, I awkwardly blurted, "You're what they call a treasured darling."
Beatrice gave a bitter smile.
"A useless darling is no different from a pet, right?"
