Chapter 5: Performance

“Smile more. No, not like that. Like you’re happy.”

Arwen sat in front of a makeup artist who’d been working on her face for forty minutes, turning her into someone camera-ready.

Beside her, a woman in a sharp black suit paced with a tablet. She’d introduced herself as Simone Marks, Caelum’s PR director.

“The press conference starts in an hour. We’ve prepared statements for both of you. Memorize them.” Simone thrust a packet of papers at Arwen. “Don’t deviate. These reporters will twist anything you say.”

“Okay,” she replied, trying not to move her mouth while the makeup artist applied lipstick.

Simone stopped pacing and looked at Arwen. “Some reporters have noticed small things. We need to shut that down today.”

Arwen’s stomach dropped. “What kind of things?”

“Your hair color change. The fact that Isolde Valehart hasn’t posted on I*******m in five days. A gossip columnist noticed you’re wearing different perfume at the estate.” Simone leaned in. “People in our world notice everything, Miss Valehart.”

The makeup artist stepped back. “Done.”

Arwen looked at herself in the mirror. Heavy makeup, blonde hair styled in waves, expensive dress. She looked nothing like herself but Isolde.

“Now let’s go over the key points,” Simone said. “What do you say when they ask about moving up the wedding date?”

Arwen glanced at the papers. “We wanted something intimate and meaningful, so we decided not to wait.”

“And when they ask about your new look?”

“I just wanted something different.”

“Good.”

A knock on the door. A staff member poked his head in. “Mr. Ravencroft is ready. Five minutes.”

Arwen’s hands started shaking.

They led her through the estate to a large room set up for a press conference. Rows of chairs filled with reporters clutching cameras and recorders. Lights blazed. At the front, a podium with microphones stood before a backdrop displaying the Ravencroft Industries logo.

Caelum stood off to the side, looking completely at ease in a dark suit.

He glanced up as she approached, his gaze sweeping over her, checking details.

“Miss Valehart,” he said formally. Then, quieter: “Remember what we discussed. You’re happy. You’re in love. You can’t wait to be my wife.”

His hand found the small of her back. “Simone gave you the statements?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Don’t add anything. Don’t try to be charming or spontaneous. These people will twist anything you say.” His fingers pressed slightly harder against her spine. “And smile. You look terrified.”

Her lips curved up, but she could feel how fake it looked.

“Better,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise.

They took their positions at the podium. Caelum’s arm slid around her waist, pulling her close against his side. To anyone watching, it probably looked affectionate. But his grip was just a little reminder: Don’t mess this up.

Simone stepped to the microphone. “Thank you all for coming. Mr. Ravencroft and Miss Valehart have a brief statement, and then they’ll take a few questions.”

The reporters leaned forward. Cameras clicked in rapid succession.

Caelum spoke first, his voice smooth and confident. “Isolde and I are thrilled to announce that our wedding will take place this Saturday. We know the date change has raised questions, but the truth is simple: when you find someone you want to spend your life with, you don’t want to wait.”

Lies delivered so smoothly they sounded like truth.

“We’re grateful for our families’ support,” he continued. “This merger represents more than business. It’s about building something lasting. Something real.”

He looked down at Arwen, and she looked up at him, both playing their parts perfectly. His eyes were warm when they met hers, but she could see the calculation behind them.

“Isolde? Would you like to add anything?”

Arwen stepped closer to the microphone, her heart hammering. “Caelum is everything I could have hoped for in a partner, and I can’t wait to start our life together.”

The words felt empty in her mouth. But the reporters seemed to buy it.

“We’ll take questions now,” Simone called out.

Hands shot up. The first few were easy—business questions about the merger that Caelum handled smoothly, standard questions about the wedding that Arwen answered straight from the script.

Then a woman near the back stood without waiting to be called on.

She was older, maybe fifty, with sharp eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses and a knowing smile that made Arwen’s skin prickle.

“Evelyn Crowe, Metropolitan Chronicle.” Her voice cut through the room. “Miss Valehart, you’ve been notably absent from social media lately. Your last post was six days ago, unusual for someone who typically shares her life so publicly. There’s also been speculation about changes to your appearance.” She paused. “Some are wondering if everything is quite what it seems. Care to comment?”

The room went silent. Every camera turned toward Arwen.

Her mind went blank. This wasn’t one of the prepared questions.

Evelyn Crowe’s eyes fixed on hers, suspicious. Like she could see right through the makeup and the hair dye to the fraud underneath.

“I…” Arwen started, her voice cracking.

Caelum’s arm tightened around her waist. A silent command: Say something. Fix this.

The seconds stretched out. The reporters were starting to shift in their seats, sensing blood in the water.

Arwen looked at Evelyn’s sharp face. At the cameras. At the room full of people waiting for her to slip up, to prove their suspicions right.

And something inside her snapped.

Not panic. Not fear.

Anger.

Anger at Isolde for running. At her parents for forcing this. At Caelum for treating her like a prop.

She stepped forward, away from Caelum’s controlling grip, and met Evelyn’s gaze directly.

“You’re right,” she said, her voice stronger now. “I have been quiet lately. I have been changing things about myself. And you want to know why?”

The room held its breath.

“Because for the first time in my life, I’m choosing something real over something performed. To live my life instead of documenting it for strangers. To focus on what actually matters—the person I’m about to marry, the life we’re about to build. Instead of worrying about likes and comments and what people think.” Her voice didn’t shake anymore. “When you find a love this real, you don’t need to prove it to anyone. You just live it.”

Silence.

Then someone in the back started clapping. Others joined in. Within seconds, the whole room was applauding.

Evelyn Crowe sat down slowly, her expression unreadable.

Simone stepped forward quickly. “Thank you all for coming. That’s all the time we have today.”

The reporters stood, still clapping, calling out questions that went unanswered as Simone ushered Arwen and Caelum toward a side exit.

They made it to a private room before Caelum released her. His hand dropped from her waist, and he turned to face her.

Arwen braced herself for anger, accusations and for him to call her out for going off-script.

But his expression wasn’t anger.

It was curiosity. Genuine, startled curiosity.

“That wasn’t in the prepared statements,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry. I just…”

“It worked.” He was looking at her like he was seeing her for the first time. “That speech about choosing something real. It worked better than anything Simone wrote.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Where did that come from?” He stepped closer, studying her face with that intense focus she was beginning to recognize. “You’ve been nervous and scripted all morning. Then suddenly you’re giving passionate speeches about authentic love.”

Arwen’s heart hammered. Had she given herself away?

“I just said what felt right in the moment.”

“Hmm.” He tilted his head slightly. “You’ve never done that before. In any of our conversations, you’ve always been less careful. This was different.”

“People change when they’re nervous.”

“Do they?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Or do they become more like themselves?”

Before Arwen could respond, Simone burst through the door, her face flushed with excitement.

“That was perfect! Absolutely perfect!” She waved her phone. “Social media is exploding. You two are trending everywhere. People are calling it the most romantic moment of the year.”

But Caelum was still looking at Arwen with that expression of startled curiosity.

“I need to make some calls,” he said finally, stepping back. “Capitalize on this momentum.”

He left without another word.

Simone turned to Arwen, beaming. “Whatever you did in there, keep doing it. The ice princess finally showed some fire. People love it.”

Arwen stood alone in the room after they’d both gone, her hands still shaking.

She’d gone off-script. She’d drawn attention to herself. She’d made Caelum look at her differently.

And she had no idea if that was better or worse than being invisible.