ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

The wedding day has arrived.

A hand pounds on the door of my washing chamber. Dauphine, my uptight designer who dares to make me follow a strict schedule. She's just as restricting as the damn corset she's about to make me wear for my wedding gown.

Elena holds back my hair as I vomit into a bucket, hoping that the wave of sickness will pass. Most would attribute the nausea to pre-wedding nerves, but I know for certain that this is the sign I've been waiting for. The morning sickness. It's been six weeks since I've neglected to take the elixir, and this comes right on cue. When the vomiting subsides, the briefest of smiles crosses my lips for just a fraction of a second.

Pregnant. A little Tobin baby is growing inside of me.

Only the father has been sentenced to death, waiting in chains in the dungeon.

Maybe Tobin had his suspicions these final few days that I might be pregnant, but he always believed I took the elixir. Now, I fear he's lost all hope down there in the darkness. My attempts to see him in his cell have ended with me being escorted back to my bedroom. My father has guards monitoring the entrance to the dungeon on a constant rotation. Even when I tried to maul my way between them, they simply picked me up and placed me back in the main corridor. Those guards have heard every curse imaginable from my lips, curses I then repeated to my father, who simply shook his head and ignored it.

I'm desperate just to see Tobin once more, because that final night faded into oblivion before I could catch it with my fingertips.

As the nausea eases, I lean back to meet Elena's suddenly bright green eyes. She knows what I've done, for it was her idea in the beginning. Leighton will never receive a true heir to his throne, at least not from his doing.

"Now we know," Elena mutters as she helps me up.

I nod my head, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. "I just wish I could do this with Tobin." Because if he knew I was pregnant, he'd fight teeth and nails to see his child. To Tobin, family means everything. Aspen. Me.

His little baby that he'll never get to meet.

Guilt mixed with panic rises inside of me, and I set a hand to my chest to steady my erratic breathing. What have I done? I kept something so miraculous from Tobin, and now he's laying in a cell thinking that his life is about to end when a new life that we made together is just beginning.

"I made a mistake," I stammer, putting a hand on my stomach.

A gigantic one.

Gods, this was stupid of me.

Elena shakes her head. "No, you didn't."

"Tobin should've known. He should've known what I was doing—"

"It's okay," Elena assures. "Just think about how you're carrying the heir to Adorid inside of you."

"Is that supposed to help? What if—"

"Princess, there's no turning back now. You're pregnant, and it's a child that belongs to you and the man you love. You'll fight for that child, and they'll learn everything they need to learn from their beloved mother," Elena takes my hand in hers and squeezes tightly. "If Leighton wants an heir to the throne, then this is the only way, because I will never let him get close to you."

And I'll never ever let Leighton hurt my little weapon.

Dauphine pounds a fist on the door, this time louder than before. "Princess, we're falling behind schedule. You need to be fitted into your dress so you're not delaying the ceremony!"

The word 'ceremony' makes me want to vomit again, but all I manage is a tiresome eyeroll at Elena. She gives a silent laugh, almost strained due to the lingering weight on my shoulders. I have to wear a mask today, a mask that shows the kingdom of Lagulon how delighted I am to marry King Leighton, when in reality, I'd rather wither away to dust.

This kingdom will flourish because of my decision. There will be no war, no destruction or demise but my own.

And Tobin?

Gods, Tobin.

I take a final look at Elena. "It's now or never, I guess."

Elena takes my hand within her own, giving it the tightest of squeezes. I wait for her to speak, to give me some ounce of advice that will spark an idea on how to rescue Tobin, but she remains silent. There's nothing I can do. Nothing we can do.

But I won't stop trying until the cord that ties us together breaks into two.

Together, we open up the door of my washing chamber and face the woman who has been hounding me about our tardy schedule. Dauphine's eyes light up when I appear in front of her, and she grabs me by the sleeve to haul me behind a folding screen. One moment, I am Imogen—princess of Lagulon, archer of the night—and the next I become a ragdoll meant to win over a crowd.

I let Dauphine and her assistants paint me up with golden glitter and navy ink, garnishing me with diamonds and jewels rarer than the midnight sun. With elegant swirls that mimic ocean waves weaving up my arms and eyes rimmed with the shimmers of the night, I appear as the true heir to the Lagulon throne. Only, the throne no longer belongs to me. I've given that right up by marrying King Leighton.

Next, they bind me in the restraints of a corset and white dress, adjourned with the finest of fabrics and intricate embroidery. White is supposed to be the colour of innocence, of purity, but this dress makes me feel tainted. It shouldn't be this clean when the world keeps disintegrating, and certainly not when Tobin has been sentenced to death.

Hours drone by, and the ceremony to Leighton draws closer and closer. By now, Dauphine's crew seems to be done preening me for the wedding, and I dismiss any lingering handmaiden around me except for Elena. When my bedroom chamber has been rid of them, my thoughts only cycle back to my thief chained in that damp cruel cell down below the surface of the castle.

I pace through my bedroom. "How much longer until we need to meet with Leighton?"

"Just until the sun meets the horizon," Elena's brows furrow. "Why ask?"

The idea thunders through me and spews from my lips before I can stop it. "I'm going to see Tobin."

"Princess, every attempt to see him hasn't worked. Your father is insistent that you don't go down there."

Maybe it's the pregnancy, or maybe it's that the man I love is about to die in the next few days, but I snap at Elena. I unleash the fury inside of me that I've cooped up.

"I'm pregnant with his child, and yet you tell me not to even try? I'm going down there, because I need to see him. All this... it can't be the last time."

"The guards haven't let you step one foot into the dungeon. What makes you expect that things are going to change now?"

I narrow my gaze, brows furrowing. No, I haven't thought this through, but it's my last effort at seeing him before his execution. If I don't manage to catch a glimpse of my thief today, then I know I won't see him tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I'll be married to King Leighton.

Tomorrow, I will be the queen of hell.

Elena sighs. "Nothing's going to stop you, is it?"

"I'm giving away my life and soul for Lagulon," I breathe. "The least they can do is let me see the man who rescued me from descending into darkness."

Tobin wandered into my life at such an unexpected time. Somewhere, maybe the fates knew that I needed a companion, and they delivered Tobin to my doorstep. Literally. And I captured him with an arrow. One glance at those kind brown eyes and I knew he would be stuck with me for the long run.

Elena doesn't try to stop me as I swing open my bedroom door. There's no secret passageway into the dungeons, but the only way I want to see Tobin is to, once again, barge straight through the guards. I'll demand and order until they comply, because how dare they disobey their princess.

Like Tobin said, I will never submit to no one, nor bend or bow to their desires.

I clench my fists into the skirt of my dress as I storm down several staircases until I meet the lower tiers of the castle. With every step I take, I feel the pulse of Tobin's heartbeat. I can almost hear the shallow breathing as he exhales from his lungs. When he sees me dressed in white, I hope he'll understand what I'm about to do. I know it won't save him. It won't break his chains.

I just cross my fingers that Tobin got Gareth's message, because maybe he'd decode it and know.

I meet the two guards barring me from the dungeon entrance.

They tower above my head, their unphased eyes falling down to their pitiful princess dressed as the bride-to-be. The dungeon will matte my dress, but I don't give a damn if mud stains the linen.

"Let me through," I command.

Both guards remain steadfast like stone.

"Let me through," I grit once more, setting my hands on my hips in frustration. "I am the princess of Lagulon, the heir to the throne." Sure, the title will mean nothing in a matter of hours after the wedding, but currently, I am still their princess. "You will let me into this dungeon."

Nothing. Not even a flinch.

It's not until a voice behind me catches me off guard. "Let her go down there and see him."

My blood chills, turning to the same ice that coats his blue irises. The slippery tone belongs to none other than my future husband: Leighton.

He stands behind me dressed in his royal armour and tunic, this one decorated with a forest green of Adorid entwined with the royal navy of Lagulon. It's a symbol of our kingdoms merging together into one through the union of a king and a princess. His hair is groomed back, receding at his widow's peak. He wears a thin crown made of iron, the same iron that's carved every weapon that's slain his prisoners.

The guards part for Leighton.

Leighton.

As if the King of Adorid holds authority over them. This shouldn't be how it works.

Unless my father agreed to something.

Leighton gestures to the parted guards. "Go on."

There's a shift in the air, a tilting of scales that I hadn't felt before. At once, all I want is the overarching protection of my father, but he's the one who got me into this mess. He agreed to let me marry Leighton, and now it feels as if he's given Leighton some sort of upper power, but for what? Why should I want the man I've followed like a little duckling for my entire life? How come it feels like my father has done nothing but let go of me when I longed for him to hold me close?

I descend the stairs of the dungeon as Leighton follows close behind, removing the torch from the scone on the wall. Leighton's presence irks the nerves beneath my skin, but I don't let it show. I simply gather the skirt of my wedding gown and keep my eyes forward, searching every corner for the thief I love.

Leighton stops at a cell. Iron bars barricade me from the inside. Chains slink from the stone walls, down against the dampened earth. It smells of decay and blood in these abysmal lockups, and a tear almost rolls down my cheek when my eyes dance to what lies at the end of the chains.

Except, the chains remain empty.

Tobin's not here.

I run to the next cell. Empty. Next cell. Nobody. I go through every row only to find them all empty of the thief that I adore.

"Where the hell is he?" I spit.

In the torchlight, Leighton only grins. "Orion and I made a bargain regarding him. He's in my hands for the day."

No.

Tobin.

Leighton spins around, returning back to the staircase. "See you at the ceremony, my wife."

── •✧• ──

Friendly reminder that there is only SEVEN DAYS until nightfall ends. There's still so much yet to unfold, so just keep on bracing yourself as I continue to throw this mess on top of you. I hope you can handle all the tension and stress Tobin & Imogen are causing you.

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