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 granddaughter, especially since

told anyone about the conversations she had

than once, her grandfather had sighed and lamented, "If only

she had been born a man, the eldest grandson of the Ormond

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

Ormond family was steeped in tradition. Even though her grandfather had no choice

had passed, her two younger brothers hadn't been born yet. They had assumed

once taunted her: "I gave birth to all sons, while yours can't even produce a grandson.” Shaking off those memories, Elora grabbed another suit and put it on. Standing before the mirror, she examined her

circles under her eyes were impossible to

vanity and carefully applied makeup

be downstairs in half an hour, and she kept her word. By the time she reached the dining room, Tatum had prepared a fresh breakfast. Today, he had chosen lighter fare, knowing she

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