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unexpected gift

The first gentle rays of sunlight timidly invaded the hospital room, casting a soft glow on my face as I struggled to awaken from the depths of sleep. With my eyes still closed, I yearned desperately to find myself back in my New York apartment, where every corner held familiarity and comfort.

Whispering to myself, as if the words could manifest the reality I craved, I softly repeated, "I'm in New York, in my own place." It became a mantra, a desperate plea to escape the unsettling truth creeping into my consciousness.

But then, like a distant echo from a world I no longer inhabited, I heard Antony's husky voice, pulling me back to the stark reality. Slowly, I opened my eyes, hoping to be met with the familiarity of my former life, only to be met with the sterile surroundings of the hospital room.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. How are you feeling today?" Antony's inquiry was filled with genuine concern, yet there was an undertone in his voice that I couldn't quite decipher.

And there was Antony, for the first time without his usual royal guard attire, a sight that only heightened my feeling of strangeness and discomfort.

"Please, tell me all of this was just a dream..."

With a sigh, a worried expression on the face. "I'm sorry, but it's reality, you're here with us."

Resigned, looking around the hospital room. "How did this happen? How did I end up here?"

Sitting beside me on the bed. "You fainted, you were very weak. You needed medical care."

Feeling confused and lost. "And now? What's going to happen to me?"

With a serious yet gentle gaze. "I'll take care of you. You're safe with me."

I felt a sense of overwhelming pressure, almost suffocation, from his proximity as I voiced my concerns:

"But I don't have any money... I need a job, and I won't be able to afford your help."

He stood there, so close that I could feel his breath on my skin, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. A rugged sigh escaped his lips, and my entire body reacted, tingling in the presence of his commanding stature. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke:

"As for payment, we can discuss it... However, your stay in my home will not be up for debate. I have already taken care of all the arrangements necessary for your accommodation, and I will not accept a refusal."

His words resonated with an undeniable authority, as if they were decrees issued by a sovereign ruler. I felt a sense of constriction, realizing that, in the face of his unwavering determination, my objections would be futile.

My voice came out in a whisper, almost inaudible, as I tried to comprehend his actions:

"You... bought things so that I could live with you?"

He raised an eyebrow, a smile forming on his lips, and his response was as simple as it was surprising:

"Well, Amélia, I've been living alone for years. I don't have any feminine hygiene products or clothes that I could lend you. Since there was nothing of yours in Bethany's house, I bought them so that you could have the necessary comfort to recover."

Those words echoed in my mind like an exhilarating reverberation, making my heart race like a runaway horse. I had no words to respond, so I simply murmured:

"I don't have money to pay for these gifts..."

Before I could say anything else, he interrupted me with a smile that revealed a dimple in his cheek:

"It's not an expense, Amélia. It's an investment."

A warmth spread across my cheeks, and I felt disarmed. Our conversation ended there, and he stood up, heading to sign the paperwork for my discharge from the infirmary. I remained there, still stunned, trying to process everything that had just happened.

The cool morning air caressed my face as we exited the hospital, and I found myself enveloped by Antony's comforting presence. He guided me with chivalrous gentleness to a carriage, delicately holding my waist as I ascended the steps. His touch was firm yet reassuring, and I felt safe in his care.

The journey to his house unfolded in silence, but it was not an uncomfortable silence. It was as if our thoughts were in harmony, absorbing the scenery around us. We ventured into a forest not far from the village, and there, amidst the tranquility of nature, emerged an imposing house, almost a mansion. It was not surprising, considering Antony's position as a royal guard. My eyes roamed over the entire structure, taking in the Gothic details that adorned it. It was evident that Antony had refined taste, and this only heightened my curiosity about him.

As we descended from the carriage, Antony's gaze seemed curious, as if eager for my opinion on the place he called home. "What do you think of my humble countryside abode?" His voice, smooth and captivating, carried a blend of expectation and playfulness, as if he were genuinely interested in my response.

Still somewhat stunned by the impressive details of the house and Antony's chivalrous gesture in helping me down, I let out my impulsive answer. "Well, maybe if I were also a royal guard and had to deal with people all the time, I would also retreat to a forest."

A flicker of amusement sparkled in his gray eyes, and a playful smile graced his lips. "It's not a forest, it's a grove," he corrected, his husky voice sending another shiver down my spine. What's happening to me? I thought.

With a theatrical gesture, Antony extended his hand to me as if inviting me to a grand spectacle. His sarcastic humor was like a refreshing breeze, and I couldn't help but laugh as I accepted his invitation. Together, we entered the imposing house, where each room revealed a new world of beauty and luxury.

He guided me through the chambers, each one more magnificent than the last. The walls, painted in a soft ivory hue, reflected the elegance and refinement of the place. Tapestries adorned the walls, telling ancient stories with golden and silver threads, while the large windows let in the sunlight, illuminating the space with a celestial glow.

Every detail of that house seemed to breathe power and wealth, as if we were walking through the halls of an enchanted castle. As Antony proudly showed me each corner, I couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of the place and the generosity of my host.

Antony led me to what would be my quarters in that majestic house. His gestures were filled with gentleness, as if he were guiding me to a sanctuary of comfort and beauty. When he opened the door and revealed the interior, my heart leaped with excitement.

"Dear Amélia, this is where you will rest," he announced, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I hope you like it; I've done my best to make it as comfortable as possible."

My eyes widened as I stepped into the room. It was as if I had been transported into a fairy tale. Shades of silver and red intertwined in a dance of colors that filled the space with life and elegance. The bed, impeccably made, seemed to beckon for a rest fit for royalty, and I could hardly believe the opulence before me.

With evident enthusiasm, I explored the room, admiring every detail. But one question lingered in my mind.

"How did you manage to do all this in less than a day?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise and admiration.

He approached me with the calmness of a feline, his smile revealing a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"I am the embodiment of the law here, dear Amélia," he said with a certain pomp before letting out a laugh. "But, joking aside, I managed to get a little voluntary help... or maybe not so voluntary."

I was momentarily taken aback, unsure if he was serious or not. But soon he clarified.

"I'm kidding," he affirmed, with a slight nod. "Actually, I called in a few favors and paid some men to help me arrange this room."

Intrigued, I arched an eyebrow, waiting for more details. He seemed to catch my expression and continued, with a more serious tone this time.

"Yes, they helped me," he admitted, his gray gaze locking onto mine. "But most of the heavy lifting was done by me. You see these furnishings? I assembled them myself."

His statement left me surprised, and disbelief reflected in my expression as I questioned:

"So, you doing manual labor?"

Antony gently placed his hands on my shoulders, his gaze conveying an intensity that caught me off guard for a brief moment.

"When you want something badly," he began, but hesitated for a moment before continuing, "I mean, when you want something done right, you have to do it yourself."

In a sincere gesture of gratitude, I added:

"But I'm not that demanding, Antony. You didn't have to worry so much about this."

His disapproving look made me recoil, and I realized that perhaps my words had been misunderstood. Quickly, I changed my tone, accepting his generous gesture and expressing my sincere gratitude for him caring so much about my well-being.

Walking around the room, I observed every detail of the furniture meticulously assembled by him. When I commented on his woodworking skills, I said with a smile:

"Even for a guard, you're a great carpenter."

Antony watched me for a moment, then shared a part of his story:

"My father taught me everything I know."

I felt a lump forming in my throat, touched by the connection he shared with his father. With a warm smile, I replied:

"It seems you're not just a good guard, but also an excellent carpenter and a wonderful son."

His gaze was serene, revealing a silent gratitude for my words. As I opened the drawers, I came across a collection of stunning dresses, made with fabrics of vibrant colors blending shades of red, wine, white, emerald, blue, and black, each more dazzling than the other.

With my eyes still fixed on the dresses, I was clearly impressed by the beauty and quality of each one. With a mixture of surprise and gratitude, I turned to Antony, trying to express what I felt.

"Antony... I don't know how to thank you!" My voice choked with emotion. My excitement was palpable, and I could barely contain the smile forming on my lips.

He approached, his presence enveloping me like a comforting aura. I felt his breath close to my red curls, and his hoarse words echoed in my ears, laden with care and consideration.

"I didn't know what you would like, so..." He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "I had to use a little imagination when choosing. But I believe each one will look stunning on you because each was made exclusively for you..."

His voice was soft, almost like a whisper, and the intense gaze he directed at me revealed a mixture of hope and anxiety. He genuinely seemed concerned about ensuring my satisfaction, and his words mingled with a slight smile.

"I hope you like them, dear Amélia..." he concluded, his final words infused with a tenderness that deeply touched me.

With my heart overflowing with gratitude, an instinctive gesture that carried a touch of New York took over me, and without a second thought, I enveloped Antony in a tight hug. Words flowed sincerely, laden with emotion and genuine gratitude.

"Thank you so much... No one has ever done something so beautiful for me. Thank you, thank you very much!" My voice trembled slightly, and I could feel the warmth of my flushed face with the emotion of the moment.

I felt his hesitant breath as he hugged me back, and the rapid pace of his heart echoed in the silence of the room. When we finally let go, I noticed a slight blush on his cheeks, a sign of his own vulnerability in that moment. He seemed nervous, as if trying to hide something behind his sudden shyness.

Before stepping away, Antony turned his back, as if seeking to conceal his emotions. He spoke quickly, his voice somewhat muffled.

"As a token of gratitude, tonight you can choose one of the dresses to wear at dinner with me in the main hall." His voice sounded a bit more hurried than usual, and I couldn't help but notice his restless hands in his pockets, as if he were hiding something.

I was intrigued by his sudden behavior, but decided not to question it at that moment. Instead, I smiled and nodded, feeling grateful for his generosity and eager for the dinner to come.

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