Breath. Breath. Breath. I keep chanting the same words as my father comes to my side. His tall frame casts a shadow over my reflection in the ornate mirror, his silver-streaked dark hair neatly combed for the occasion. "You look beautiful, my girl. Your mother would be so proud of you." His words do little to calm my nerves, forcing me to recall Mom. I lost her at eight to a monster. I close my eyes, chasing away the terrible memory of her being dragged away by a rogue wolf, her screams echoing through our home. "Thank you, Father," I manage, my palms sweaty from clutching my cream silk dress. The intricate lace sleeves my mother once wore on her own wedding day now adorn my arms. "Chin up. This has to be perfect," he says, but I hear his underlying message. I have to be perfect. Give them no reason to think I'm not fit for him. My silver hair and something else already marks me as different. When we enter the court chambers, he sees me, but his eyes hold little affection w
Huling Na-update : 2024-12-01
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