Leticia finished buckling Rocío’s boots in place and the belt across her riding jacket. She flattened out the ankle length burgundy skirt, and lastly picked up the riding hat. Leticia was dutiful in her work and made sure all little details did not go missed. She made sure to make the jacket’s collar as flat as she could and fixed the few buckles to make sure they were in place. She brushed Rocío’s hair, assuring it was neatly placed in a secure up-do, the ends of her hair hanging in tight curls. Leticia pinned Rocío’s hat in place and stepped back, looking over her work.

“Am I ready?” Rocío asked as she looked at herself in the mirror.

“Yes, my lady,” she smiled after looking at her one last time.

Rocío continued to stare at herself in the mirror. She never really considered herself ugly, but she also never considered herself beautiful. She wasn’t as thin as her sister, the cool tone of her skin was nothing like the warm tone of Sarita’s, she didn’t quite like her frizzy hair, and her hands weren’t slender and dainty like her Ines’. She wondered if she could even get the Marquis to fall in love with her. 

“Is there something not to your liking, my Lady?” Leticia raised an eyebrow, looking over Rocío’s reflection as well. 

Rocío analyzed her face, her eyelashes were short and straight and there were faint acne scars here and there on her cheeks. The Marquis’ skin was void of any blemishes, and seemed quite soft. She frowned. “Do you think I need to freshen my makeup?” She asked, eyes scrutinizing the barely visible wrinkles she had previously never noticed under her eyes. 

Rocío noticed Leticia’s bewildered look but decided not to comment. 

“If you’d like, my Lady.”

“Maybe just my cheeks?” Her honey eyes narrowed on herself. “Also my lips? Maybe my lashes?”

“Right away,” Leticia nodded and led Rocío to her vanity, sitting her down and doing as told. 

Rocío closed her eyes as Leticia did her makeup again. Again, her mind nagged at her. It would be nearly impossible to have the Marquis fall for her. She wanted to rub her face in frustration, but she refrained, as Leticia continued her work. She breathed.

“How–” she paused as she let Leticia finish her lipstick. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw as Leticia pulled away.

Leticia raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“How…maybe not ‘how’, rather…” she turned away from her maid, not knowing how to properly word her question. “What can you do to make someone… like you?”

Leticia blinked. “Is this about what His Grace demanded of you?” She hesitantly asked and she crouched in front of her.

“In part, yes,” Rocío mumbled.

Leticia took her hand. “The Marquis?” 

“He…” she bit her lip. “He might be my only chance.”

Leticia looked up at her, brown eyes filled with compassion. “My lady, I don’t wish to overstep, and please correct me if I do, but…with all the rumours that surround the Marquis, is it really wise to pursue him?” She asked, rubbing circles on the back of Rocío’s hand. “I fear he might only bring more trouble.”

“I have to…” It’s the only way to save us, she added mentally. “He seems kind enough. Sure, he may be imposing, but he’s proven himself to be… kind and attentive.”

“My lady, my wish is for you to be happy,” Leticia gently smiled. “To marry someone who loves you and who you love. I know you are under immense pressure from His Grace, and you wish to never disappoint him, but this is your future, not his.”

Rocío’s lips stretched in a smile. Her heart twisted. “Thank you, Leti, but I also have my reasons.”

Leticia slowly nodded before she stood straight upon letting go of Rocío’s hand and nodded once more. “You are ready my lady,” she smiled. “...And my best advice is for you to be yourself.”

Rocío let a chuckle slip. Of course Leticia would say something like that. “I will do my best to be myself.” Then she stood from her seat and looked at herself, finally satisfied enough to meet with her brother and the Marquis.

It didn’t take long for her to descend the main staircase to the foyer and for the butler to open the door for her. As she stood atop the entryway stairs, she saw her brother and the Marquis chatting, already mounted on their horses, while her’s stood next to the pair. She walked down the stairs with as much grace as she could and reached her horse, a white mare with brown spots over her eyes and splattered over her body. Her hair was braided gently and soft. Rocío greeted her horse by gently caressing her face. 

“Hello, mi Amorcito,” she smiled. 

The horse neighed in response.

“She missed you,” Santiago teased. 

Rocío looked up at her brother and laughed. “As did I,” she said.

“Had you not been riding her?” Marquis Félix asked. 

Rocío turned to the Marquis and nodded. “Yes, I had been under the weather, my doctor suggested I refrain from strenuous activities.”

She barely noticed but his eyes widened ever so slightly. “Is it alright for you to be riding?” He asked.

Rocío nodded. “Yes, luckily, I've recovered quite quickly,” she assured, noticing as he eased at her words ever so slightly. 

“Should you feel indisposed at any time, please do advise us,” he said.

She stared at him for a bit. It was odd, his face was emotionless but his words sounded concerned. She nodded as a quick reply and soon was helped up on her horse by an attendant. Once she was settled on the saddle, her brother offered her a nod and without any further words the horses were off in a gallop.