As I place the quill down, the king speaks again. “The queen is already arranging a celebration ball to honor Dante’s new title. The other monarchs will be invited back for the event, and I expect they’ll attend. The realms will want to congratulate the new prince in person.”
My eyes flick to Dante again, and he gives the faintest nod, as if thanking me—not just for the approval, but for everything else. For standing by him. For always coming through. For trusting him.
But the king isn’t finished.
“And during this celebration,” he says, settling deeper into his chair, “once the guests have arrived, I will formally announce your betrothal.”
My breath catches. I didn’t expect the announcement to come so soon.
“We’ve waited long enough,” the king continues. “If I don’t make it public soon, you’ll likely do something stupid and risky and get yourself killed.”
The comment is sharp but not entirely cruel—more matter-of-fact than mocking.
“I understand,” I say quietly.
I glance toward Dante again. There’s pride in his look. A flicker of gratitude. A thousand emotions tangled between us.
This is happening.
“I appreciate your swift cooperation,” the king says. “You’re dismissed. We men have preparations to tend to.”
Farvis begins collecting the parchment, and the king turns his attention to something else already being laid out on the table. It’s clear the moment is over.
I promptly turn to leave.
But as I step back into the corridor, the weight of what just transpired hits me.
Dante is a prince now.
And I’m going to be his bride.
Not just in whispers or private moments—but in the eyes of every kingdom in Terre Ferique.
Everything has shifted.
And this time, no one can stand in our way.
ChApter
Forty-Three
The halls hum with distant music as Sir Holden leads Nadya and me toward the ballroom. The soft rustle of silk accompanies our steps, the air thick with the scent of candlewax and distant perfume.
I take a slow breath, my fingers skimming the smooth, emerald fabric of my gown. The deep green catches the light with every movement, the gold embroidery at the bodice shimmering like ivy bathed in sunlight. Next to me, Nadya wears a paler shade—a delicate green kissed by silver thread, airy and soft, whereas mine feels heavier, richer, a queen’s color.
A symbol of what I am becoming. What I am stepping into.
Beyond the arched doors, laughter and music weave through the grand hall, the familiar melody of strings and flutes swirling through the air. I have seen this ballroom before, walked these very steps during the welcome ball when I first arrived in Hedera.
That night, I had been a foreign princess, a guest in a court that did not yet belong to me.
Tonight, it is different.
Tonight marks the beginning of forever.
A forever with Dante.
My stomach twists. Not with dread, but with something softer, something uncertain. This was not a marriage we chose. Not one we sat beside each other and planned, whispering promises of a future we’d shaped ourselves. It was decided for us. A fate woven by duty and politics, not love.
