From Unwanted Ward To Unattainable Queen

Ellie POV Florence was beautiful, an intricate masterpiece of stone and light, and I hated it. The cobblestones were unforgiving under my feet. The air smelled of roasted coffee and damp earth, a stark contrast to the dry, scorching heat of home. But it was the silence that killed me. Not the noise of the city—that was a deafening symphony of Vespas and tourists—but the silence from my phone. I sat in a café, staring at a cup of espresso that had gone cold. It tasted vile, like stale regret and battery acid. "Is this seat taken?" I looked up. It was a girl from my art history class, her scarf perfectly knotted in that effortless Italian way. "No," I said. She sat down with a rustle of coats. "You're the American girl, right? The one with the rich guardian? Marcus Thorne?" My stomach twisted into a tight knot. "Yes." "He's so dreamy," she sighed, scrolling through her phone as if pulling up a receipt. "I saw him in a magazine once. Is he as intense in person?" "He's... strict," I said, forcing my gaze toward the window. I remembered the promise he had made to my parents. *I will always take care of her.* It felt like a joke now. A cruel punchline delivered to an empty room. Later that night, in my small, drafty apartment, I tried to call him. It was a moment of weakness, born of exhaustion and the relentless rain. I just wanted to hear a familiar voice. It rang once. Twice. Then it went to voicemail. He hadn't just missed it; he had declined the call. A minute later, an email pinged on my laptop. *Subject: Focus.* *Ellie, stop calling. You are there to study, not to chat. I am buried with the merger. Do not disturb me unless it is a genuine emergency. Focus on your work. You are wasting time.* He didn't ask how I was. He didn't ask if I was safe. He just scolded me like a disobedient dog that had forgotten its place. I closed the laptop with a sharp snap. It started to rain harder outside. I walked to the window and pressed my hand against the cold glass. I felt small. Insignificant. Against my better judgment, I opened social media. It was a toxic habit I couldn't break. And there it was. A post from Chloe. A photo of a diamond ring on her finger, catching the light in a blinding flare. *Caption: Forever starts today. #Engaged #MrsThorne* The world stopped. I didn't cry. That was the strangest part. I expected to shatter, but instead, I felt a cold numbness spreading from my chest to my limbs, like anesthesia taking hold. My hands trembled slightly, but my eyes were dry. He was engaged. He was building a life that had absolutely no space for me. I looked at the screen. The smile on his face in the background of the photo was polite, reserved. But he was there. He had chosen her. I took a deep breath. The air in my lungs felt thin, insufficient. I went to my settings. *Delete Account.* *Are you sure?* *Yes.* The screen went black. I stood in the middle of my apartment, the rain drumming a relentless rhythm against the roof. I was alone in a foreign country. I had no family. My guardian had just engaged the woman who hated me. I was an orphan again. But this time, I wouldn't look for a savior. "Fine," I whispered to the empty room, my voice steady. "Be happy, Marcus. Be blind." I went to my desk and pulled out a fresh canvas. I picked up a brush. My hand was rock steady now. I had four years. I had a deadline. When I returned to Arizona, I wouldn't be Ellie the ward. I wouldn't be Ellie the burden. I would be a stranger. And strangers couldn't be hurt.