If she thought back far enough, it must have been in third grade. Her mother used to tell her that, as a child, she loved wearing princess dresses.

Being the firstborn-and a beautiful one at that her family dressed her like a little princess. Her closet had been filled with frilly gowns, gifts from her parents, aunts, uncles, and other relatives.

Then, at some point in fourth grade, she stopped wearing them. No matter how many new dresses she received, she always gave them away to her cousins. Eventually, everyone realized she wasn't interested, and the dresses stopped coming.

Her mother once asked why she no longer liked them. Elora had replied, "Skirts slow me down. I like to move fast."

Her mother had smiled and said she had always been decisive and strong-willed, which was why her grandparents had chosen her as the family's successor. And she hadn't let them down.

From a young age, she had shouldered the family's burdens. Under her leadership, the Ormond business hadn't just survived-it had thrived.

her, they praised her. They envied her grandparents for having such an exceptional

anyone about the conversations she had

and lamented, "If only she

been born a man, the eldest grandson of the Ormond family, her grandfather would have been at

she was, he always feared that one day she would marry, and her focus

was steeped in tradition. Even though her grandfather had no choice but to entrust her with the family's legacy,

been born yet. They had assumed there would be no male

can't even produce a grandson.” Shaking off those memories, Elora grabbed another suit and put

the dark circles under her eyes were impossible

and carefully applied makeup to mask her

downstairs in half an hour, and she kept her word. By the time she reached the dining room, Tatum had

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