The warmth in his voice contrasts the pressure building in me, and though he’s trying to reach me, he leaves me feeling more trapped than desired.
Just as I look at him, a figure comes from behind. A familiar face, one I’ve spent years trying to forget—my stepmother, Agatha.
Time has softened her features, but the cruel gleam in her eyes remains unchanged. She’s draped in violet, a fabric so rich it turns my stomach. Lucas stands beside her. His expression is tight, a sorrowful frown pulling at his brow. My jaw clenches as I take in the sight of her. I know all too well the deal she struck with my father—the transaction that sold me off like some prized possession.
My father steps to my side, his hand finding mine with a firm, reassuring grip.
“Welcome, Agatha,” he says. “We’ve been expecting you.”
He tightens his hold on my hand, a silent promise that he will always be my rock, my comfort. I force a smile as the enormity of her presence threatens to unravel me.
“Yes, stepmother. We’re so happy you chose to attend my wedding, out of all the things you could have attended during my stay here.”
The bite in my voice is unmistakable. My father’s smile catches the corner of my eye, drawing her gaze to him.
“The coronation being the only other time,” I finish, my words laced with disgust, the bitterness.
Anger flickers across Agatha’s face, but her brittle smile doesn’t falter.
“Lucas,” she says, her tone shifting to warmth, glowing with pride as she turns to him. “You’ve grown into such a fine young man. The Royal Guard must be fortunate to have someone of your caliber—a true leader.”
Her words feel like a slap, harsh and cutting. The knot in my stomach tightens as I grit my teeth, the love and pride she so freely showers on Lucas only amplifying the void where my name should be.
“It’s always so touching, step-mother, how you manage to know everything about Lucas’s life. You must be so proud,” I say. “Of course, I suppose it’s easy when you never bother asking about mine.”
Agatha’s lips press into a thin line, her gaze hardening.
“I didn’t come here to rehash the past or endure your theatrics, Lailah,” she snaps, clearly irritated.
“No, you came to be seen,” I retort, raising my voice. “You came to remind everyone that you sold me off to Clyde like a prized calf and then washed your hands of me.”
Her mask of civility slips entirely as she looks at me, her tone pointed and condescending.
“I’m simply saying how proud I am of Lucas and all he’saccomplished. It’s a shame, really, that some members of this family didn’t follow his example.”
Lucas steps forward this time, frustrated.
“Mother, stop,” he says firmly, his tone carrying the weight of a son who’s heard too much.
She ignores him, her gaze darting back to me.
“Speaking of accomplishments,” she says, her tone shifting into mock politeness, “where’s Sera? Surely she must be here for an event like this.” She pauses, tilting her head as though in thought. “Such an extraordinary young woman. So full of light and potential. Truly remarkable, don’t you think, Lucas?”
Her words twist the knife in my chest, each one landing with a precise stab. I can feel Lucas bristle beside me, his jaw clenching as his hands curl into fists.
"Funny," I say, my voice cool but pointed, "how you always find a way to admire everyone around me while pretending I don’t exist. But please, go on, Mother. Tell us more about how remarkable Sera is. It’s so refreshing to hear you shower someone with affection—just not your own daughter."
Her lips press tighter, her gaze turning venomous.
“I suppose we can all still celebrate this... achievement,” she says, gesturing vaguely toward me. Her polite facade is gone now, and her words come out stinging, laced with acid.
“It’s truly remarkable,” she continues, her voice softening, but the sweetness feels like a dagger. “That someone has come to...loveyou, despite all the challenges you’ve faced.”
“Mother,” Lucas interjects again, his voice tight and warning.
“No, Lucas,” she says. “She needs to hear this. She has no idea the sacrifices that were made for her. No gratitude for what was done to keep her in check.”
Her gaze pierces mine, her contempt spilling over.
