Xandria and Elara strolled through the vibrant festival grounds, blending in with the excited crowd. Laughter and chatter filled the air as lanterns flickered above, casting a warm glow over the festivities.
"What if the king picks you?" Elara asked, a playful gleam in her eyes.
Xandria laughed, brushing off the suggestion. "That won't happen. There are so many girls here—I'll barely stand out."
Elara raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that? You're so beautiful, sometimes even I get jealous."
Xandria rolled her eyes. "You're such a drama queen, Elara."
"I'm just saying," Elara shrugged, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Let's move closer to the front so we can get a better view."
Without waiting for Xandria to agree, Elara grabbed her arm and pulled her through the crowd. As Xandria glanced behind to make sure she hadn't dropped anything, she accidentally bumped into someone.
"Ouch!" she gasped, rubbing her head where it had collided with the stranger's chest.
"Did I just bump into a rock?" she muttered, steadying herself and looking up—only to meet glowing red eyes, gleaming in the dim light of the festival lanterns. The man before her towered over her like a mountain, and his mask obscured most of his face, leaving only his unsettling eyes visible.
Xandria's breath caught in her throat. The air around him felt charged, heavy with an undeniable force. She quickly stepped back, realizing he had been staring at her without a word.
"I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice faltering as she hurried away to catch up with Elara, who had already reached the front.
The stranger's gaze followed Xandria's retreating figure, his eyes burning with interest.
"Get her information," he instructed quietly, his voice smooth, yet commanding.
"Yes, My King," the man behind him replied.
---
Elara was completely engrossed in the dancers, her eyes wide with excitement. Xandria caught up to her, breathless from the unexpected encounter.
"Where were you?" Elara asked, glancing over at her sister with curiosity.
"I bumped into a stranger...while you were dragging me around," Xandria complained, still unsettled by the encounter.
Elara raised an amused eyebrow. "Really?"
"It's not funny, Elara!" Xandria's heart was still racing from the strange man's presence. "I was terrified."
"Sure, but I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," Elara replied casually, unfazed. "Let's just enjoy the dance. I hear the king might have arrived."
Xandria's heart skipped a beat. The king? "Can we go home now?" she asked softly, her unease growing.
"Absolutely not," Elara replied with a dismissive wave. "The festival's just getting started."
"I'm really uncomfortable..." Xandria whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Let's stay for just a little while longer," Elara insisted. "I promise we'll go soon."
Xandria reluctantly agreed, her nerves still on edge, but she stayed close to her sister as the night wore on. Finally, past midnight, Xandria felt a sense of relief as their carriage pulled up in front of their father's mansion.
"Thank goodness we're home," Xandria muttered to Elara as they stepped inside, trying to shake off the unease of the night.
"I told you nothing was going to happen," Elara teased, though there was a hint of concern in her voice.
They climbed the stairs to their rooms, each lost in their thoughts. Elara's room was just beside Xandria's, opposite the room where they had once taken piano lessons, a quiet reminder of their childhood.
Because their father held an important position in the King's court, they had privileges most others their age could only dream of. But tonight, something had felt off, and neither of the girls knew that tomorrow would bring the kind of change they couldn't have prepared for.
---
The sun rose quickly the next morning, bright and unforgiving, catching Xandria in the middle of her morning routine. She was in the garden, plucking vegetables for breakfast, when Elara came running toward her, breathless.
"What's wrong, Elara?" Xandria asked, her voice laced with concern.
"Royal soldier... on his way... here..." Elara gasped between breaths.
Before Xandria could ask more, the sound of heavy boots echoed on the cobbled stones outside. The girls exchanged a tense glance before hurrying to meet the soldier at the gate. The royal crest on his chest left no doubt—this was official business.
"I have a message for your father," the soldier said coldly, his voice devoid of warmth.
Xandria and Elara exchanged wary looks, both silently asking the same question—What message?
"Our father is inside. Please wait here while I fetch him," Xandria said, her voice steady despite the rising tension.
She knocked gently on her father's door. "Papa, a royal soldier is here with a message for you."
"I'll be down in a moment," her father replied.
Xandria quickly returned to the soldier, who stood stiffly inside the house. She felt the air grow thick with anticipation.
"My father is on his way," she said, attempting to break the silence.
The stillness in the room was suffocating. Xandria and Elara kept exchanging glances, both uneasy.
Their father descended the stairs, his footsteps deliberate. "To what do I owe this visit?" he asked the soldier, his tone polite but sharp.
"The king has sent me to deliver a letter," the soldier replied, handing over an envelope sealed with the royal crest.
Xandria's heart pounded in her chest as their father opened the letter. His eyes skimmed the contents, and then he began to read aloud.
"The King of Alderyn, His Royal Highness, King Maltherion Duskthrone, wishes to inform you that he has taken a liking to your eldest daughter and desires to make her his wife."
Xandria's blood ran cold. The words echoed in her mind, and she felt her knees weaken. A marriage proposal from the king? The room seemed to blur around her.
"I'll respond to the letter as soon as possible," their father said, his voice firm.
Xandria's shock dissolved into a burst of defiance. "There's no need to respond, Papa. I'm not marrying the king."
Her voice rang out, louder than she expected, filled with anger.
Her father's face twisted in fury. "You'll not disrespect the king, Alexandria."
The slap came swiftly, a hot sting across her face, sending shockwaves through her. "You will marry the king, Xandria," her father said, his voice final, cutting through her protest.
She stared at him, stunned, before storming out of the room, her heart racing with both fear and fury.
As she slammed her door behind her, Elara's voice followed her up the stairs. "Papa, why are you doing this? Why force her to marry the king?"
"Because the king is not someone to cross. I won't risk my family's safety," their father answered, his voice low and unwavering.
Elara's voice cracked with sadness. "At the expense of Xandria?"
"If it ensures our position and security, then yes," their father replied coldly.
Elara rushed upstairs to find her sister, but Xandria had already locked herself away in her room.
Downstairs, their mother, who had been quietly listening from the kitchen, wiped a tear from her cheek.
"You can't marry Xandria off to the king," she whispered, her voice filled with quiet desperation.
"What do you know, woman?" her husband snapped.
"She's only 18. Elara is 16! You can't do this," their mother pleaded.
"Xandria's friends married last year. She's of age. I won't discuss this further," their father growled, shutting the door and walking out of the room, leaving a broken silence in his wake.