Standing in front of a gilded mirror, Emily barely recognized the woman staring back at her. A stylist carefully placed a diamond-studded hair clip in her dark locks, which had been woven into an intricate updo—braids and soft curls framing her delicate features like an artist’s masterpiece. She looked angelic.

She would have been happy—if she were marrying Oscar instead of the King.

They were adorning her, embellishing her like a prized possession to be presented to a man she barely knew. After the final touches, she slipped into a pair of silver heels, feeling less like a bride and more like Cinderella, waiting for her moment to run. But there was no escape.

Her gaze drifted to the large patio doors, where armed guards stood at attention, their eyes sharp, their hands resting on their weapons. Every corner of the villa was heavily secured. Not even a single bee would be allowed past them.

Taking a shaky breath, she steadied herself. A stylist spritzed perfume onto her collarbones and hair, the familiar scent offering a small, fleeting comfort.

The door creaked open, and Amanda and James stepped inside. Their expressions froze. Emily saw the tears welling in her sister’s blue eyes—and to her surprise, James’s eyes glistened as well.

"Mom and Dad would have been so happy to see you if they were still here," Amanda whispered, dabbing at her tears with a Q-tip.

Emily forced a pained smile. I don’t think so...

“Oh, come on, you two! Don’t get emotional,” she teased, trying to lighten the moment.

James quickly raised his hands in defense, flashing a lopsided grin. “I am not crying!”

Emily smirked and pointed at him. “Don’t lie! I saw that tear—right there!”

He rolled his eyes, waving her off. “Yeah, whatever you say.”

Amanda chuckled softly before sighing. “Alright, enough stalling. It’s time.” She turned toward the grand double doors that led to the breathtakingly adorned garden. With a silent nod to James, she stepped outside.

As Amanda disappeared from sight, James turned to Emily, his playful demeanor vanishing. His gaze sharpened.

"Do you really want to do this?"

Emily’s breath hitched.

"What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you happy, Emily? You don’t have to be afraid of anyone," he said, his words slow and deliberate, his eyes searching hers.

Emily swallowed hard and forced a smile. “Yes. I am...”

Before he could question her further, she quickly added, “I want to give him a chance. Us a chance...”

James studied her for a long moment before finally offering his arm. "Let's go, then. The King doesn’t like to wait."

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, placing her hand in the crook of his arm. Together, they stepped forward, toward the doors where everyone was waiting—especially King Vincent, her soon-to-be husband.

(Continue....