Celestia's POV
The chapel was small, dark, and empty except for three people: a nervous priest, a cold-faced proxy holding Lord Harren's marriage contract, and my father.
No witnesses. No celebration. Just a transaction.
They shoved me through the door and slammed it behind me. I stumbled, barely catching myself on a pew.
Let's make this quick, the proxy said, his voice flat and bored. He was maybe forty, with dead eyes and a scar across his cheek. Lord Harren is waiting at the border. We have a long journey.
I won't sign. I straightened, forcing steel into my voice even though I was shaking. You can't make me.
Actually, we can. My father stepped forward, pulling a pen from his jacket. As your father and legal guardian of an unmarried daughter, I can sign on your behalf.
That's not legal without my consent!
It is if the Emperor approves it. He met my eyes with no emotion at all. Which he does.
The priest shifted uncomfortably. Your Grace, perhaps if the lady needs more time to—
She's had enough time. Father unrolled the marriage contract on the altar. Read it to her, Father Marcus, so she can't claim ignorance later.
The priest's hands trembled as he picked up the document. The marriage contract between Lord Harren of Greystone Manor and Lady Celestia Ashford states...
His voice droned on, listing terms that made my skin crawl. I would become Lord Harren's property. My dowry would go to him. Any children would be his heirs. I would have no right to refuse him anything.
Stop, I whispered. Please stop.
The priest paused, looking at me with genuine pity.
Keep reading, my father ordered.
In exchange for this marriage, the priest continued reluctantly, Lord Harren agrees to pay House Ashford twenty thousand gold pieces and political support in the Northern territories.
Of course. My father was selling me for gold and influence.
Twenty thousand pieces, I said numbly. That's what I'm worth to you?
You're worth whatever value you can bring to House Ashford, Father replied. Right now, that value is securing Lord Harren's alliance and removing you from the capital before you cause more embarrassment.
Embarrassment? I laughed, high and sharp. I'm the embarrassment? Not Vivienne, who got pregnant with my fiancé? Not Aldric, who can't remember who he sleeps with? Not you, selling your daughter like livestock?
Watch your tongue. Father's voice dropped dangerously low. I could make this much worse for you.
How? How could this possibly be worse?
I could let the rumors spread that you drove the Crown Prince into another woman's arms through your own failures. That you were cold, demanding, impossible to please. He stepped closer. I could destroy what little reputation you have left. Or you could sign this contract quietly, marry Lord Harren, and disappear to the Borderlands with some dignity intact.
Dignity? I wanted to scream. To cry. To throw things. You're marrying me to a dying monster and calling it dignity?
I'm preventing civil war, Father snapped. If House Ashford refuses this marriage, the Emperor will strip our titles. Our allies will abandon us. We'll lose everything. Is that what you want? To destroy your entire family because you can't accept reality?
Reality? My voice broke. Reality is that something's wrong with this whole situation! Aldric doesn't remember that night! Doesn't that seem suspicious to you?
It seems like a man who drank too much and doesn't want to face consequences.
Or a man who was drugged and manipulated! I grabbed my father's arm. Please, just investigate! Give me one week to prove something else is happening here!
He pulled away from me like I was diseased. I don't have a week. The Emperor wants this resolved today. Now sign the contract, or I sign it for you.
You can't!
Watch me. He picked up the pen, dipped it in ink, and signed his name at the bottom of the contract with quick, decisive strokes. There. Done.
The proxy nodded, satisfied. The marriage is legal and binding. Lady Harren, if you'll come with me
NO! I ran for the door, but it was locked from the outside. I pounded on it with both fists. Let me out! HELP! Someone help me!
No one's coming, the proxy said. The Emperor's guards are outside to ensure this marriage proceeds smoothly. Stop making a scene.
I spun around, desperate, looking for another exit. Windows too high and narrow to crawl through. One door, locked. Three men between me and freedom.
I won't go with you. I pressed my back against the door. I'll fight every step of the way.
Then you'll arrive at Greystone Manor bruised and exhausted. The proxy shrugged. Lord Harren doesn't particularly care about your condition, as long as you arrive breathing.
The casual cruelty of it made me want to vomit.
Father. I tried one last time, hating how my voice shook. Please don't do this. I'm your daughter. I'm your blood. Doesn't that mean anything?
He looked at me for a long moment. I searched his face for any hint of love, regret, hesitation.
Nothing.
You're my daughter, he agreed. Which means you'll do your duty to House Ashford, just as I've always done mine. Sentiment is a luxury we cannot afford.
Then I hope you choke on your luxuries, I spat.
His hand cracked across my face so fast I didn't see it coming. Pain exploded across my cheek. I tasted blood.
You will show respect, he said coldly. Even now.
I touched my stinging face, feeling where his ring had split my lip. I'll show you exactly what you deserve. Nothing.
Get her out of here, Father told the proxy. Before I lose my patience entirely.
The proxy grabbed my arm in an iron grip. I tried to pull away, but he was strong—much stronger than me.
Let go!
He dragged me away from the door. I kicked at him, scratched, bit, fought with everything I had.
It wasn't enough.
He forced me to my knees in front of the altar while my father held my shoulders down.
Father Marcus, the proxy said calmly, perform the ceremony.
But the bride is unwilling! the priest protested. This is forced marriage—
This is an imperial order, my father said. Perform the ceremony or face charges of disobeying the Emperor.
The priest's face went pale. He looked at me, clearly torn.
I'm sorry, he whispered. I'm so sorry.
Then he opened his prayer book and began to read.
We are gathered here to join Lady Celestia Ashford and Lord Harren of Greystone Manor in matrimony...
NO! I screamed. I don't consent! This marriage is illegal!
...if anyone has objections, let them speak now or forever hold their peace...
The chapel door burst open.
Aldric stood there, sword drawn, eyes wild. STOP THIS!
Hope flared so bright in my chest it hurt. He came. He actually came.
Your Highness. My father didn't release me. This doesn't concern you.
Like hell it doesn't! Aldric strode forward. Let her go. Now.
The Emperor approved this marriage, the proxy said. Are you defying your father's direct orders?
Aldric hesitated. Just for a second. But I saw it.
Aldric, I whispered. Please. Please don't let them do this.
He looked at me, and I saw everything in his eyes—love, desperation, guilt, and crushing helplessness.
Father, he said to the empty air, speaking to the Emperor who wasn't here. If you can hear me, I'm begging you. Not Lord Harren. Anyone but Lord Harren.
Your father cannot hear you, the proxy said. And his decision stands. Step aside, Your Highness, before you make this worse.
Worse? Aldric's laugh was brittle. How could this possibly be worse?
He could force you to watch the consummation, my father suggested coldly. Is that what you want?
Aldric went white.
I felt something break inside me. Some final thread of hope that had been holding me together.
You're not going to save me, I said quietly. Are you?
Celestia
Answer the question. Are you going to save me, or are you going to let them marry me to a monster?
His hand tightened on his sword. For a moment—one beautiful, desperate moment—I thought he might actually fight.
Then his shoulders slumped. The sword lowered.
I can't defy my father, he whispered. Not without causing civil war. Not without destroying the Empire.
Then you've chosen. I stopped fighting against the hands holding me down. Went completely still. You've chosen the Empire over me.
That's not fair—
None of this is fair! My voice echoed off the chapel walls. But you're the Crown Prince! You have power! You could stop this if you really wanted to! You're just too much of a coward to use it!
I'm not a coward!
Then prove it! Fight for me! Tears streamed down my face. Please, Aldric. If you ever loved me, if any of it was real, fight for me now!
He stood there, sword in hand, Crown Prince of the Empire, with all the power in the world.
And he did nothing.
Continue the ceremony, my father ordered.
No, Aldric whispered. Please, no
But he didn't move to stop it.
The priest's voice shook as he read: Do you, Lady Celestia Ashford, take Lord Harren as your lawfully wedded husband?
No. My voice was clear and strong. I do not.
Her father consents on her behalf, the proxy said. The answer is yes.
That's not how marriage works! Aldric shouted.
It is when the Emperor says it is. The proxy pulled out a ring—heavy, gold, ugly. He grabbed my hand and forced it onto my finger. By the power vested in me as Lord Harren's representative, and with Duke Ashford's consent, I declare this marriage legal and binding.
NO! Aldric lunged forward.
Too late.
The proxy pulled me to my feet. Lady Harren, your husband awaits. Time to go.
I looked at Aldric one last time. Really looked at him.
The boy I'd loved since childhood. The man I'd planned to spend my life with. The Crown Prince who'd promised me the world.
He was crying. Sword hanging uselessly at his side. Absolutely broken.
But not broken enough to save me.
I loved you, I said quietly. With everything I had, I loved you.
I love you too! His voice cracked. Celestia, please, I love you so much—
Love isn't enough. I turned away from him. It never was.
They dragged me out of the chapel into blinding afternoon sunlight. A black carriage waited in the courtyard, windows covered, door open like a mouth.
Behind me, I heard Aldric screaming my name.
I didn't look back.
The proxy shoved me into the carriage. The door slammed shut, cutting off Aldric's desperate cries.
Through the tiny window, I caught one last glimpse of him falling to his knees in the courtyard, guards holding him back, his face wrecked with grief.
Then the carriage lurched forward, and the palace disappeared behind us.
I sat in the darkness, still wearing my wedding robes—the ones meant for Aldric.
Still wearing my mother's tiara, the one meant for an Empress.
Still breathing. Still alive.
But the girl who'd woken up this morning planning her wedding day?
She was dead.
And in her place sat someone new. Someone harder. Someone who would survive this.
Someone who would make every single person who destroyed her pay for what they'd done.
I pressed my palm against the carriage window as the capital faded into the distance.
I will survive this, I whispered to my reflection. I will become stronger. And one day, I will return.
And when I do, they'll all wish they'd killed me when they had the chance.