Guinevere paced back and forth in her chambers, her coral hair swaying with each agitated step. The luxurious room, adorned with rich tapestries and elegant furniture, felt like a gilded cage. Her mind was a storm of frustration and disbelief. How could her father accept a marriage proposal from the Paxley nobles without even consulting her? The very thought of marrying a stranger made her blood boil. She had always been passionate about her freedom and her magic, not about being tied down to some unknown partner.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a soft knock on the door. One of the maids entered, bowing slightly. “Miss Guinevere, your father requests your presence in his study.”

Guinevere's eyes flashed with irritation, but she nodded curtly. “Very well,” she replied, her voice laced with annoyance. She followed the maid out of her chambers, her mind still racing. Who was this fiancé? What kind of person would they be? Despite her anger, a small part of her was curious. Why had the Paxley specifically requested her?

As they walked through the grand hallways of the Baroque estate, Guinevere's thoughts continued to churn. What kind of person were they? Why did the Paxley choose her? she wondered. I can't believe I'm being forced into this. It's so unfair!

They approached the study room, and Guinevere took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She needed to be composed, even if she was furious. The maid opened the door, and Guinevere stepped inside, her gaze immediately falling on her father, the Duke, and Aamon, the head of House Paxley. Beside Aamon stood a young woman around her age.

The maid quickly exited, closing the door behind her. Guinevere's eyes flicked to her father, who gestured for her to sit. Begrudgingly, she did so, her posture stiff with defiance.

“Guinevere,” her father began, his tone formal, “this is Aamon, the head of House Paxley, and this young woman is your intended fiancée.”

Guinevere's eyes widened slightly, but she kept her expression neutral. Her father continued, “Aamon and I have discussed the proposal, and I believe it is in the best interest of both our houses. She will be your fiancée.”

For a moment, Guinevere was speechless. Fiancée? She had been expecting a man, not a woman. Her mind raced, trying to process this new information. She had always thought she would be marrying a man, but now... a woman?

Will she understand my passion for magic, or will she try to change me? Guinevere wondered, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and curiosity. I wonder if she is as unhappy about this as I am.

Her father cleared his throat, drawing her attention back. “Guinevere, I expect you to treat her with respect and to make an effort to get to know her.”

Guinevere's temper flared, but she bit her tongue. She couldn't believe her father had made such a decision without her input. But as she glanced at the young woman, she couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity. Who was this woman, and why had the Paxley chosen her?

With a deep breath, Guinevere nodded, her mind still reeling. “Yes, Father,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. She would have to navigate this new reality, whether she liked it or not.

As the conversation continued, Guinevere's thoughts drifted. What does she think of me? Does she even want this marriage? she pondered. I refuse to let this marriage define me. I am still Guinevere Baroque.

Despite her anger and confusion, a small part of her was intrigued. Maybe there's more to her than meets the eye. I need to find out why the Paxley chose me specifically, she thought. I can't let my guard down.