Alyssa stood outside Edward's bedroom, her hand resting on the doorknob but unable to turn it. She had been standing there for minutes—maybe longer. Her breath was shallow, her stomach tight. She wasn't sure if it was fear of facing him… or shame. Shame for all the words she had thrown at him in the past without thinking. For how she'd laughed when others mocked him. For how she'd treated him like he didn't belong.
She remembered it all.
Edward had been ten when James first took him to the Royal Palace. A small boy dressed neatly, back straight, eyes trained to stay emotionless. Even then, Edward had learned how to say the right things, to speak only when asked, to present the version of himself others approved of. It wasn't childhood—it was performance.
That day, James had business with the King. The King, in his usual warm voice, had called over his son and daughter. "Take Edward with you," he told the prince, whose name was Aric. "Show him around."
Alyssa had been small then, a few years younger than Edward. She had followed Aric and Edward, curious about the quiet boy who never smiled.
They spent the day roaming the gardens, the stables, the vast palace corridors. Edward was polite, obedient. He spoke when spoken to. He never laughed. Not really.
When James and Edward returned home, Sara was waiting near the entrance. She stepped forward as they dismounted.
"How was it, Edward? Did you enjoy your time at the palace?"
Edward bowed slightly. "I followed my duty to accompany Prince Aric and never showed any disrespect that could harm Father's or the Bolton family's image."
The words stunned Sara. They were so formal. So heavy. Spoken by a ten-year-old who should've been talking about the horses or the sweets or the games.
Something cold settled in her chest.
She gently placed her hand on his head. "Edward, you're a child. Children are allowed to make mistakes. You don't have to think about family honor all the time. Just enjoy yourself, sweetheart."
He didn't reply. Just nodded, said goodnight, and walked away.
Sara stood there, hand still mid-air. Watching his back disappear into the corridor.
"James," she said quietly, "I thought I was raising him properly. But… watching him today… I'm not sure anymore. He's just a child, but it's like he's forgotten how to feel."
James placed a hand on her shoulder. "He's a bright child. He'll be fine."
But Sara wasn't so sure.
—
Edward began visiting the palace more often. Slowly, he built a friendship with Aric and Alyssa. One afternoon, the three of them were playing in the garden. Alyssa had declared, out of the blue, that she would marry Edward one day.
Edward, caught off guard, simply nodded. Alyssa giggled and ran off, proudly announcing her decision to the King.
The King, amused, called James to speak. What began as a child's fantasy slowly turned into something more formal. Alliances were discussed. Agreements were made. The children were engaged.
Time passed.
At thirteen, Edward was sent back to Bolton County for two years. He trained in administration, learned diplomacy, and honed his mind. When he returned to the capital at fifteen, the city had changed—and so had he. Taller, sharper, more composed. He carried himself like a man twice his age.
The Kingdom's founding celebration was approaching. A grand event, with nobles and lords gathering from every province.
It was the first time the capital had seen Edward again. Whispers followed him as he entered—how mature he had become, how regal.
He reunited with Aric and Alyssa.
They, too, had grown. But Alyssa's behavior had shifted.
At first, it was small things. Cold glances. Short answers. A subtle distance. Then it escalated.
The King, unaware or unwilling to confront it, had asked Edward to spend more time with Alyssa.
Edward obeyed—Alyssa didn't.
She insulted him in front of others. She gave him trivial chores—fetching things, waiting endlessly outside her room while she laughed inside with others. Once, she made him polish her riding boots because they were "too dirty for a princess to touch."
At the Queen's birthday celebration, she had told Edward to wait at the palace gate so they could enter together. He waited in silence for over an hour. And then he saw her—walking in, arm-in-arm with another young nobleman. Laughing.
Edward stood still, something sharp and small breaking inside his chest.
But he just nodded when the guards opened the door.
The next morning, the King called him in.
"Edward, Alyssa is still young," he said gently. "She makes mistakes. Don't take it to heart."
That was the moment it clicked for Edward.
He wasn't a partner.
He was a promise kept. A token from the past. A toy Alyssa had once claimed, and now didn't want to play with anymore.
So he changed. He did what she wanted. Smiled when needed. Apologized when not at fault. Faded into the background so she wouldn't be embarrassed by his presence.
She wanted a doll, not a person. And Edward, ever the dutiful one, became what everyone needed him to be.
Even if it killed him a little more every day.
—
Outside the bedroom, Alyssa's knuckles turned white against the door.
She had thought of Edward as cold, distant, dull.
But now… she realized he had simply grown numb from never being seen.
And she had been one more person who refused to see him.