Pain throbbed behind my eyes as I drifted in and out of consciousness, my head pounding like it had been struck from the inside.
Warmth surrounded me...strong arms, steady and familiar.
Cedric.
I knew it without seeing his face. The way he carried me, firm and protective, like I weighed nothing at all.
My eyes opened slightly.
The ballroom swam in gold and shadows. Faces blurred together...maids rushing forward, nobles whispering behind gloved hands, the orchestra dissolving into chaos.
And then...I saw him.
Across the room, half-hidden between towering pillars and flickering candlelight, stood that man.
The one who had watched me during the cooking competition. The one who had vanished before I could question him.
Dark eyes locked onto mine, sharp and knowing, as if he'd been waiting for this exact moment.
My heart jolted.
I tried to speak. Tried to call out. My lips parted...but nothing came out.
No sound. No strength.
Then, like smoke slipping through fingers, he stepped back… and disappeared.
"No..." I tried to say but voices overlapped around me.
"The Princess has fainted!"
"Fetch the royal physician!"
"Make way...make way!"
Above the noise, a voice rang out, loud and commanding.
"By royal decree..."
I almost rolled my eyes despite my situation. Their princess had just fainted and all they could care about was some stupid royal decree. How fascinating!
The words blurred together as darkness crept in at the edges of my vision.
I fought it. I really did. But my eyes closed on their own.
And the last thing I wondered...was whether he, the mystery man, had been real at all.
***
I stirred awake slowly, like someone swimming to the surface of a deep lake.
My lashes fluttered, heavy with sleep, and for a brief, blissful moment I thought I was still inside the dream.
Davis was there. His smile...crooked, familiar, warm...was the last thing I saw before my eyes opened fully.
I sucked in a shaky breath and sat up, clutching the silken sheets as though they could tether me back to him.
My chest rose and fell too quickly, too unevenly, and before I knew it, something hot trickled down the side of my face.
I touched my cheek, startled. Tears. I had been crying long before I even woke.
The realization made my throat tighten. My fingers dug into my hair as I dropped my head forward, muffling a groan.
"I miss you, Davis…" The words came out broken, barely a whisper, but heavy enough to splinter the silence around me.
That's when the knock came at the door, pulling me out of the fragile cocoon of my grief.
The knock at the door echoed again, softer this time, before it creaked open.
Maris slipped inside with her usual quiet grace, balancing a small bowl between her hands.
"You know you don't walk into someone's room without asking for permission." I said.
"Mine lady," she said gently, bowing as she approached completely ignoring everything I just said.
"Thy draught."
I blinked at the steaming bowl suspiciously. "Medicine? No, thank you. I don't do mystery soups in the morning."
Maris's brows furrowed. "'Tis no soup, princess, but a tisane for thy strength. Thou must needs drink, else we shall be tardy."
"Tardy?" I sat up straighter, rubbing my eyes. "Tardy for what exactly?"
Maris hesitated, her lips parting and closing like she was weighing how much I already knew.
Then she lowered her gaze and whispered, "The crowned prince of Ardinvale is upon the road. He comes anon."
The name struck me like a gong. Ardinvale… It sounded oddly familiar, like something I had read once in one of those fantasy history novels.
Before I could press her further, the clatter of hooves and the rumble of wheels thundered from outside.
Maris gasped, nearly dropping the bowl. "They are hither! We have but little time, else thou wilt be late...for the wedding."
"The what?" My voice went embarrassingly high-pitched, like a squeaky balloon. "What...what wedding are you even talking about? You can't just… schedule a wedding overnight! The ball was literally yesterday!"
But Maris's expression...nervous, pitying...told me otherwise.
A cold weight dropped into my stomach. Slowly, I asked, "The ball… was yesterday, right?"
Silence.
I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering. "Maris… how long have I been asleep?"
She finally met my eyes, her voice low and solemn. "A full fortnight, my lady."
I shot upright, nearly toppling the covers. "Two weeks?!"
The walls spun around me. My mouth opened, but nothing came out.
A fortnight? Two whole weeks of me just… lying here? The doctor in me screamed the word...coma.
And now I was supposed to stand up, throw on a tiara, and stroll down the aisle like it was no big deal?
No way! So not happening.
I dragged my hands down my face, trying to steady my breathing. That's when Maris's words hit me again, sharper this time.
The crowned prince of Ardinvale.
My brain clicked. Ardinvale. Where had I heard that...
And then it hit me like a punch to the gut. The garden. The night of the ball. The voice in the shadows, the mocking calmness, the way he said his name before vanishing into the dark.
Kaelric.
My stomach flipped. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." I muttered it aloud, startling Maris, who blinked like I'd spoken in riddles.
"They want me to marry him? Garden-boy Kaelric?" I laughed, short and incredulous. "Yeah, nope. That's not happening."
But Maris's face told me otherwise.
She clapped her hands twice and at once, a swarm of maids flooded the room like soldiers waiting for signal.
Maris nodded and they reached for me immediately.
"Let me go!" I screeched on top of my lungs, fighting them with everything in me.
I managed to slip out of their grasp, grabbing a porcelain vase and holding it out in front of me like a weapon.
I was so ready to hit anyone who dared to step an inch!
The maids looked terrified, clinging to one another and whispering furiously.
"I'm not getting married! Y'all can't be shoving me around, I'm not a doll!"
"Mine lady," Maris started towards me. "Drop the vase."
"I won't until I have a word with whoever set me up for a wedding!" I snapped.
Then suddenly, in one practiced motion, they all fell to their knees, heads pinned to the floor.
I stepped back a little, confused. Are they apologizing?
I smirked, swinging the vase onto my shoulder. I tilted my head up, one hand resting on my hip.
Then...
"Ioana." A voice sharp and commanding echoed behind me.
I froze. Oh no.