Chapter Text
It is a known truth that when a young woman in possession of good character and iron resolve has made up her mind, it is best to retreat from her path, lest she be interfered with. Particularly when she cares not for those in her way, as her indomitable will dictates, and does not bow to her enemies no matter the size of the target on her back. Such a woman is not to be trifled with, nor is she likely to suffer fools.
A young woman with strong morals and a pretty face makes an undervalued ally, and an even more underestimated foe. If she is of good social standing and better fortune, she grows only more formidable. She may ornament her family like a flower in a garden, one more bashful daughter, accomplished young woman, or dutiful wife, but make no mistake of the venom that belies the snake hidden amongst the petals.
Lucretia Black was exactly that sort of woman. A girl, really, she was still no stranger to the harsh order of the world, nor was she afraid to push others lower so she might rise higher. Born into a powerful family and raised as one of their own, the expectations placed upon her were both insultingly simple and exceedingly burdensome. But she was never one to take orders. Indeed, she followed rules and played equitably so long as her ends were met. She was not to be tamed, or made a fool of, and never could her hand be forced.
Such a young woman had no need of a man, for she lacked no exemplary qualities and was very much self sufficient, thank you very much. Lucretia could take care of herself, for she had plenty of practice, brought up in a world that harbored nothing but hate for her.
So it was just her luck that a positively irksome young man — one who met none of her standards yet somehow continually exceeded them — should strut into her life, upending her plans with every smirk on his insufferable face.
That young man was Julian Rosier. He had no intention of attempting to tame Lucretia, all the better for his doom would have been guaranteed, and possessed all the qualities she desired in a partner. A wealthy, handsome, and intelligent gentleman — indeed, as wealthy as Lucretia, as dashing as she was beautiful, and capable of matching her wit for wit — he had no need for haughty girls who made themselves out to be much more than they really were and taunted him by calling him no more than a boy.
In truth, Lucretia and Julian had all the makings of perfection, but in reality, their views of each other were anything but. Though this was vehemently denied by both parties, there was a point in their lives where each considered the other a friend, so it seemed reasonable that after they fell out, they ought to be able to fall back in with one another. Both brought up in a ruthless society that sought to tear them down, with identically impossible standards to rise to, and having known each other for as long as they had, indeed since birth, or not long after, there was no reason why the two should not be as thick as thieves.
But both were prideful, and fostered grudges, ones that were not easy to forgive and which would never be forgotten. They were each other’s equal in every sense of the word, but one wrong step and their glass houses would topple, their downfall hinging on the whim of the very person each swore to avoid. And so Lucretia and Julian were at an impasse, both unwilling to bypass their prejudices for an unbearable prick (her words) or an infuriating wretch (his words).
That is, until Lucretia’s heart was won, by the very person she most claimed to despise.