POV || Aurelia

I stood before the full-length mirror, gazing over my appearance, searching for any sort of disarray in my attire. I ran my fingers over my dress absentmindedly, preparing myself for the night ahead of me. Today was the day. I was going to become a slave to some man for the rest of my life.

To some, it could be overdramatic. Surely I wouldn't be forced to marry. Sadly, it wasn't some story I was imagining. I am forced to go to this cursed dance, and I will be forced to find a husband, too. I had always wanted to marry for love, but that was impossible thanks to my current predicament.

I ran my fingers through the dark curls around my head, making sure everything was in place. I twiddled my mother's necklace, trying to calm myself. The tight feeling in my throat grew, and I took a deep breath.

Father needs me to marry. His gambling problem got out of hand after my mother passed away, and not so slowly, all the money we had was drained down to the last drop. There was barely enough to scrape together to get a new dress for this event. Definitely not enough to get the frilly dress that had been sweeping through high society as of late. Instead, the one I wore was of a deep red color with lace sleeves and accents along the bodice. It complimented my dark features quite nicely, especially when highlighted by the deep rogue I wore to accentuate them.

If my father didn't care about status and society so much, he wouldn't have even given me the money to get this simple dress. He would have just sent me in one of the older dresses and used the money to drown himself in alcohol and gambling for another night or two.

There was a knock at my door, and the pit in my stomach grew. I really might empty my stomach now.

"Aurelia, open the door," the cold voice demanded.

My hand shook as I reached out to turn the knob. I stilled my fingers on the handle and took a deep breath. No weakness. He despises weakness. I pulled the door open.

Richard Beckingham. My father, stood in the doorway, and I backed up slightly. He looked me over with a cool gaze, his face void of emotion. After giving me a once over, he let out an irritated sigh, "Good enough, I suppose."

I let out a shaky breath, glad that he was satisfied. His eyes snapped to mine, his face serious. "If you don't find a man tonight, you are as good as dead." He walked over to me, yanking my arm. His nails bit into my skin, and the searing pain shot up my arm. "You're worthless. You should have died with your mother. All you are good for now is marrying some oaf that can give me enough money to live."

My eyes stung, and my arm throbbed, but no tears came. I knew he didn't love me. He didn't care about me. I had heard this before. I either needed to be useful or get out.

He snatched my jaw and made me look into his eyes. There was fire flickering in them. "If you can't find a way to do that, I'll murder you myself. I don't need some whore around eating up more of my money." He let out a dark chuckle. "Who knows, I could even use your death to petition to the King and get some money for my grief." He smiled wickedly.

My whole body went rigid, and my throat was tight. He had threatened me before. Hurt me. But he never said he would kill me, and I didn't want to die.

"If you don't want to die, better do as you're told," he gritted out viciously as he tightened the grip on my jaw.

"Y-yes, father," I sputtered.

He grunted again and threw my face to the side, releasing his clasp on my face. "Good."

I let out a shaky gasp as he slammed the door to my room. Probably off to get in a few drinks. This time I really did empty my stomach.

~ꕥ~

The carriage shook as we came to a stop in front of the palace. I looked out the window in awe as the coachman came around to help me out. I gripped his hand for balance, my eyes still locked on the grand castle in front of me.

I had gone to smaller gatherings before but never a ball hosted by the palace. My 20th birthday was just a few weeks ago. Since then, this was the first event being hosted, and my father eagerly accepted the invitation. It had been 2 years since I had my debut into society. He was angry over the fact that I never seemed to garner anyone's attention and was becoming anxious over it. He was keeping a close eye on me tonight.

It seemed that the King was also anxious for the crown prince to marry because this event doubled as a ball for him to find a bride. He had just turned 23 not long ago but already had a fearsome reputation. We had all heard the stories, all knew them. His terrifying exploits. He had been thrown into a war at the tender age of 16 and had made himself known as one of the most vicious soldiers. A killer.

We made our way up the stairs towards the grand hall. I anxiously looked around. A group of women made their way toward the steward in front of us. They had bright, colorful clothes of all patterns. They certainly were eye-catching. But that was the point. For them, at least. Every ball I had gone to prior, I had made it my goal to not get noticed. The less I stood out, the less likely I would have to marry some man that I knew nothing about. Some man I knew I didn't love.

I shivered, pitying the poor woman that would end up marrying the Crown Prince, thankful that it would never be me. My family had a good enough status to come to this ball, but nothing more than that. He would surely marry someone of closer status to him, so I had nothing to worry about.

"Introducing Lord Richard Beckingham and Lady Aurelia Beckingham," the steward called out.

I placed my hand on my father's arm, and we made our way down the staircase. I looked around in wonder. It is beautiful.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, holding my arm tighter. "Stop looking around like some-"

"Ahh, Lady Aurelia, I am overjoyed you are here," a man said, cutting off my father's complaints. He had a thick mustache but looked no older than 26 or so. A smile graced his face as he looked from my face to the man beside me. "This must be your father?" He asked, holding his hand out to shake my father's.

"Yes, hello, Lord Carlton. This is my father, Lord Richard Beckingham." I greeted with a smile. I shifted slightly, and my father loosened the hold he had around my arm to shake John Carlton's hand.

"Would you care to join me for a dance?" He asked, holding out a hand.

I took it gratefully, eager to get away from my father before he became angrier. "Of course."

I looked over my shoulder as we waltzed to see my father's satisfied gaze. I sighed with relief. I had met John Carlton a few months ago at one of the dances. One of my closest friends, Eloise, and I had been sitting and chatting when he came up and introduced himself. He had danced with me once, but I could already tell he was forming an attachment to my friend Eloise. I smiled at the thought of them together. They would make a lovely couple.

We had become mutual friends, but nothing more than that. I glanced around at the women waltzing. It was a sea of blond. It was becoming a trend to dye your hair blond, along with the dresses of pleats and ruffles for miles. Well, it was supposed to be blond, but it looked more like a milky bright yellow color. Just another ploy to draw the men's attention.

Yet another thing I didn't do that angered my father. I liked my natural brown, though it was so dark it was practically black, just like my eyes.

I danced through a few songs with several partners, the time passing slowly with little excitement. It truly was a dreary experience. John had left once Eloise had arrived to dance with her. The song ended, and I was given to another man. I turned to face my next partner and came face to face with my father's glare.

"I thought I told you to get their attention," He whispered viciously, speaking of the men I had danced with. "Why is no one dancing with you twice? Hmm?" His hot breath washed over my face, and I could smell the alcohol. I wanted to gag. He leaned forward, whispering into my ear, "If you don't get a man's attention tonight, I will kill you."

I chill ran up my back, and my face felt cold. This wasn't an empty threat. I have to run away tonight. I won't marry someone I just met. I won't die either. "Yes, father," I respond with a nod. Play along. Just play along, Aurelia. Make him happy so it is easier for you to run away.

The song ended, and he handed me off to my next dance partner, strutting away as if he wasn't planning to murder his own daughter. I was trapped in my own thoughts of how I would plan my escape and didn't realize the song had ended.

I snapped back to reality, realizing my partner was bowing in front of me. I gave a simple curtsy and moved my hand to meet him for the next waltz. My eyes traveled up to his, and my whole body went rigid. It was him. The prince. Now I am truly as good as dead.

"I'm sorry, your Highness, but I can't dance with you, for I'm not of high enough social standing to deserve your graces," I say, trying to speak in an even voice. I curtsied as gracefully as possible and took a step backward, glancing around, hoping there was another available dance partner.

He reached out and grabbed my gloved fingers, "Please, dance with me." It wasn't a request. He pulled me closer before I could retreat and began the intricate waltz routine. "I simply wanted to dance with the most alluring lady in the room," he teased, his eyes green dancing with mischief.

Me? Alluring? I let out an unladylike snort. I sucked in a breath, horrified by my lack of propriety. He chuckled under his breath. His dark hair was impeccably styled. Not overly jelled like every other man in the room, and yet still, not a hair was out of place.

"What does social status matter anyhow?" He tells me with a smirk and then a flick of his wrist, twirling me. He pulls me to a stop, his left hand on the small of my back, and he sways me side to side.

It felt like there were a million eyes on me. I glanced around. There were. The sea of blonds was shooting daggers with their eyes. Why me? I didn't want to be dancing with the prince. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to be unloved. I didn't want to marry a man I didn't love. I didn't want to be unuseful. I didn't want to be alone.

He made the distance between us slightly smaller. An onlooker wouldn't notice, but I did. My steps faltered, and I cursed myself over my idiocy.

His hold on my waist tightened slightly to balance me, and I looked up at him with wide eyes. "Your Highness-"

"Evander, please. Call me Evander," he insisted.

I was dumbfounded, but I continued. "Prince Evander," I amended. "I-"

"I know your father wants you dead," he cut me off.

I tensed. How could he know that? Why would he even care? He spun me around along with other dancers, and I avoided his gaze.

"You have to trust me. I want to help you," he insisted.

My head snapped to his face. He was smiling again, his green eyes wandering back and forth between mine. I looked at him with complete confusion. What was he planning? Why would he try and help me? I looked deep into his eyes, trying to calculate his intentions.

He abruptly cut my thoughts off. "In a moment, I am going to make an announcement, and I want you to play along."

"No, you don't understand," I tried to explain. "My father only wants one thing from me. And he is a very determined man. If he wants me dead, he won't stop until-"

"Shh. Look at me." He placed both of his hands on either side of my face, and the rest of the ballroom disappeared for a moment. My whole face felt warm and then deadly cold. "I won't let anyone hurt you. I swear it."

I let my thoughts roam my mind. Should I trust him? All of the stories I had heard about him said otherwise. Just the fact that he was trying to help was enough for my brain to scream NO. I looked into his eyes. They looked war harden, but not insane. Not like my father's eyes. I felt safe for some reason. I knew I could trust him.

I had always felt second. I was second to money and power when my mother was still alive. When she died, I became second to alcohol and gambling. No one understood me, and no one treated me with respect.

I will not marry some man my father wanted me to just to appease him. If there was another way out besides running away or dying, I will take it. I am tired of being treated as a doormat, something worthless, like nothing.

I will not trade my abusive father for another man who won't give me the time of day. Or be just as bad.

I nodded. "Okay, help me. Please."

He smiled and then pulled our waltz to a stop, clapping in the air, "Please, everyone, may I have your attention!" He boomed. The musicians screeched to a halt, and this time all of the eyes were really on us.

"I have found my bride," he announced.

I heard a few gasps among the crowd, and their eyes all flew to mine. My whole face blanched, and my hands shook a bit. His w-what?

"Lady Aurelia Beckingham," he finished with a grin as he held out my hand.

🖤
Thank you so much for reading!

What do you think?

I will be writing more of this sometime in the very near future! 

But for now, this is just a teaser~

 🖤