The bells rang too early.
Elowen startled, breath catching as the sound cut through her thoughts like a blade. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of her gown, knuckles paling as the peal echoed through the stone.
Too early.
Her heart raced as though the bells had been meant only for her.
For a long moment, she stood frozen in the centre of her chamber, listening as the sound faded into silence.
So it was today.
She moved to the mirror without quite meaning to. Anxiety clung to her, heavy and restless, settling beneath her skin where it refused to be ignored. The girl staring back at her looked composed, almost serene, and the disconnect made her chest ache. That calm expression felt like a lie she was expected to wear convincingly.
Wide hazel eyes met her own, framed by dark lashes and brows drawn together in a crease she had not yet learned how to smooth away. Her face was gentle rather than commanding, shaped by kindness more than authority, though the morning light caught her cheekbones with quiet grace.
The gown fitted her well.
Too well, perhaps.
The deep green silk traced her waist and fell in careful folds over her hips, emphasizing a strength she rarely allowed herself to acknowledge.
Her shoulders were bare, pale against the richness of the fabric, rising and falling with each uneven breath. She looked every inch a princess, and the realization only tightened the knot in her chest.
Looking at the part had never made the role easier to bear.
She pressed a hand to her sternum, willing her pulse to slow.
This marriage was meant to save Aurelian. She had known that for as long as she could remember, the truth taught early and reinforced often until it became as unquestioned as duty itself.
Still, the thought of meeting him made her stomach twist.
He, the stranger she was supposed to willingly give herself to, came from abundance. From certainty. From a kingdom that had never known hunger.
What would he see when he looked at her? A bride, a bargain or a burden?.
"Princess," Mara said softly behind her. "They have arrived."
The great hall greeted her with warmth and noise. Tapestries lined the walls, their threads worn thin by age and history. Courtiers filled the space with murmurs that rose and fell like uneasy tides. Elowen walked forward, chin lifted, each step measured, though her legs felt light and unsteady beneath her.
"Do not falter, They are watching." She tried to encourage herself as she shook uncontrollably.
The trumpets sounded.
The doors opened.
Prince Cassian of Solcar entered as though the hall belonged to him by right.
The shift was immediate. The room drew inward around him, and every gaze pulled was in his direction.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, moving with an effortless confidence born from never needing to doubt himself. His dark hair brushed his collar, slightly unruly, as if resisting the discipline expected of him. His face was striking, sharp lines balanced by restraint, and his storm grey eyes were bright and piercing.
So this was him.
She curtsied, heart pounding. When she rose, she found his gaze already on her.
"Princess Elowen," he said. His voice was steady and controlled.
"It is an honour."
"Prince Cassian," she replied, faintly surprised that her voice did not betray her.
"Welcome to Aurelian."
They stood facing one another, close enough for her to notice the tension in his jaw, the rigid set of his shoulders despite the ceremony unfolding around them.
He was breathtaking, undeniably so, but not softened by the moment. His presence felt forged rather than gifted, shaped by expectation and restraint rather than ease.
He did not look happy.
As the court spoke of alliances and futures, Elowen felt the weight of his presence beside her.
He listened and nodded when expected, yet his eyes dulled whenever marriage was mentioned, his jaw tightening as though he were bracing against something unseen.
When their gazes met again, briefly, understanding settled cold and clear in her chest.
He was not stepping toward joy. He was being pushed.
For all his power and commanding presence, Prince Cassian did not look like a man welcoming his future.
He looked like someone bound to a fate he deeply resented, a union arranged without his consent, a life already decided.
And she was the name attached to it.