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My main character of Songs we Sing, Draya

Chapter Eight — (8/43)

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✨ Some lies are told softly, so they sound like love. ✨

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Sophie bounded into the room, her curly hair still slightly mussed from sleep. She spotted Emilio and her face lit up, dispelling some of the morning’s chill.

“Mr. Torres! You’re here!” she shrieked, launching herself at him.

Emilio caught her, hugging her tight, inhaling the familiar scent of childish innocence. For a moment, he forgot the absurdity of the situation, lost in the genuine warmth of her embrace. He was still Mr. Torres to her, even if everything else had changed.

“Hey, Sophie-bear,” he murmured, ruffling her hair.

Damien watched them, an unreadable flicker in his eyes.

Sophie pulled back, beaming. “Are you staying for breakfast?”

“Actually, Sophie,” Damien interjected smoothly, his voice calm and even, “Mr. Torres will be staying much longer than that.”

Sophie tilted her head, her big eyes questioning.

Damien took a deep breath. “Mr. Torres and I have something very important to tell you, monkey. We’ve decided that we… we care for each other very much. And so, we’re going to get married.”

Sophie’s eyes widened, first in surprise, then in dawning realization. Her gaze flickered between her father’s stoic face and Emilio’s slightly pale one.

“Married?” she whispered, her voice small.

Emilio forced a smile.

“That’s right, sweetie. Like in the storybooks. And I’m going to live here with you and your Papa now.” The lie tasted bitter, even as he said it for her sake.

Sophie paused, processing—then her face broke into a delighted grin. “Like a family?”

“Exactly,” Damien said, his voice flat but firm, leaving no room for dissent. He even offered a rare, almost imperceptible nod of encouragement to Emilio.

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Emilio’s heart ached. He was lying to this bright, trusting child, but at the same time, the relief that Sophie seemed to accept it—even embrace it—was profound. It meant his sacrifice, however humiliating, wasn’t entirely in vain. The financial security for his grandmother, the safety of his teaching career—it was all now inextricably linked to this fragile, manufactured happiness.

After breakfast, Ms. Albright appeared as if on cue, a tablet in hand. She had a schedule. Every hour of Emilio’s new life was already mapped out: meetings with Sophie’s new private tutor, introductions to the household staff, fittings for new clothes, discussions about the public announcement. His old life as Leo was already a ghost. His life as Mr. Torres was on indefinite hiatus. He was now just Emilio—the fiancé, the future husband, the latest acquisition in Damien’s meticulously planned world.

The days leading up to the public engagement announcement were a whirlwind of carefully orchestrated falsehoods. Emilio was given a crash course in Damien’s life—his business ventures, his carefully cultivated public image, even the names of distant relatives he’d never met but would now have to pretend to know. He met the household staff, a small army of professionals who moved with silent efficiency, their faces as discreet and unreadable as Ms. Albright’s.

His first experience with Damien’s tailor was both mortifying and fascinating. The man clucked over Emilio’s existing wardrobe before measuring him with clinical precision, whispering figures to Ms. Albright about bespoke suits and formal wear. Emilio felt like a doll being dressed for a part he hadn’t auditioned for.

Sophie, meanwhile, adapted with remarkable ease. Her private tutor quickly established a routine, and Sophie still sought Emilio out for stories and playtime, clinging to him as naturally as she did to her father. Emilio found himself slipping into the rhythm of being a stay-at-home “parent,” spending his days reading, drawing, and playing hide-and-seek in a house too large for proper hiding.

Damien remained largely absent, immersed in work. Their interactions were brief and businesslike—discussing schedules, clarifying the narrative, exchanging polite remarks about Sophie’s day. There was no warmth. No intimacy. Nothing to suggest the impending “union” they were about to announce to the world.

Tuesday arrived.

The day of the public announcement.

Emilio stared at his reflection in a dark suit that fit him perfectly—so perfectly it felt like a second skin. He barely recognized himself.

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✨ Stories that ache, burn, and bloom. 🥀

📖 Read The Gilded Cage on Wattpad

Finally!... Philomena made it to the top of the stairs. She spent the whole time with her head down so as not to fall, but when she looked up, she saw him. His dark black hair and handsome yet rough face stared down at her. His beautiful gray eyes stared into her soul as her amber eyes stared into his.

Adjusting herself upright and letting go of her dress was a tedious process, and she shivered in fear of how large and tall he was. His knight uniform may have made him larger, but she doubted that. Her eyes strayed from his as she shivered. Yet, his gaze lingered on her intensely as if he were angry with her, making her shiver even more. How will she marry someone so...so, terrifying!?

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This is the Story of Philomena, the 17-year-old daughter of King Ricard IV. She is suddenly married off to the cold, large and handsome Lord of the North. How will she navigate this journey?

[Yes, I know this is a typical fairytale story with a bit of a twist, but WHO doesn't LOVE the classics, I know I do]

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Does this story interest you?...Hell yah?

Well, it's called Heart of Flax

If you want to read more then head over to:

Wattpad: TheChapter4_bye [chapters are still currently being posted]

Archive of Our Own [AO3]: Pinkpants_34 [18 chapters are posted]

Yes, I know both of my pages have the most random names but ignore that.

Does any other Author get so wrapped up in word play that your just like.. OH HUEHUE LIKE AT THIS, Will the dear READER GET THIS PUN? Should I spell it out for them?

Hey gang I’m back on Tumblr after an 8-year hiatus (I forgot I had an account lol). Check out my latest short story, it’s a corporate horror tale about--well I’ll let you find that out for yourself. I think it’s pretty good but feel free to drop a comment if you hate it, any engagement is good engagement.