Skylar lifted her chin higher.
"Good," she said, her voice steady despite the sudden chill creeping down her spine. "I thought I might reveal my true nature before we marry. So as to not surprise you, Lord Caspian."
Caspian's shuttered expression changed. It was curious, yet it felt belittling, like he could not believe what he was hearing.
They stood facing each other in the empty hallway, the silence pressing in from all sides. Skylar became very aware of every detail: her torn dress, the leaves still tangled in her hair, the faint sound of her own breathing. His breathing. And his dark eyes bearing into her own.
Skylar refused to look away, but she also felt like she couldn't, even if she wanted to.
"You are not what I expected," Caspian said finally.
"No, I am not," Skylar quickly answered, blinking a few times as though to gain control over herself. "And I never will be."
One dark brow rose. "Oh? And why is that?"
She considered lying. Considered being polite and sparing his feelings. But the words left her mouth before she could stop them.
"You will never be happy with me. And I have no intention of changing that."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Then Caspian laughed.
It was not a warm sound, more like surprise escaping despite itself. Or amusement at the sight of futile bravery. He caught it quickly, and regained his composure.
"That… is very honest of you," he said. "I appreciate honesty, Lady Skylar. It is rare in my experience."
It was Skylar's turn to be apprehensive. "I find that hard to believe. You seem like the type who inspires honesty." She tilted her head. "Or, since you are an Everus, perhaps it is fear."
Caspian stepped closer. Skylar forced herself to hold her ground.
"I would remind you to be careful with your choice of words, my Lady," he said quietly. "But you are correct. Honesty. Fear. I believe it simply depends on the circumstance. And the person."
He was close now. Close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. Close enough that she could smell the scent of cedar and steel. Close enough that she had to tilt her chin up to hold his gaze.
Her heart pounded against her ribs. He was trying to intimidate her. Caspian studied her for what felt like a long moment. Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth curved upward. He stepped back, and Skylar resisted the urge to exhale with relief.
"You came to me like this for a reason." He gestured at her disheveled appearance. "You wanted to shock me. Offend me. Perhaps even disgust me enough to reconsider this arrangement."
Skylar said nothing.
"Bold strategy. Most women in your position would try to impress me." His eyes swept over her again. "You chose… this."
"I chose honesty," Skylar said. "You said you appreciated it."
"Is this truly honesty, Lady Skylar, or simply another kind of manipulation?"
Skylar hesitated for the first time. "I… I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you?" He tilted his head. "You want me to reject you. To call off the wedding. To be the one who breaks this union so that your hands stay clean and your family's honour remains intact." His voice grew sharper, rougher. "But you did not count on one thing."
"What?"
Caspian glared, but there was that smiles again. That same challenging smile from before.
"I do not like being manipulated."
Skylar stared at him. The world seemed to tilt slightly, the ground shifting beneath her feet.
He knew. He knew what she was doing.
"Why?" The word escaped before she could stop it. "Why are you not furious?"
Caspian considered the question. His hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword.
"Because I have already accepted that my future has been decided," he said quietly. "You are desperate. Desperate enough to tear your own dress and cover yourself in leaves and dirt. Desperate enough to face your parents' wrath. Desperate enough to stand here, alone with a stranger, and challenge him with your defiance and your pride."
Anger flared within her. He was criticising her for fighting, for choosing herself. She hated how easily he had read her, and how her plan was failing.
"I know what it is to be told that your duty matters more than your desires, more than your freedom to choose. But you are mistaken if you think a poor attempt at offence will change things. It is too late."
Caspian stepped closer again, this time, he was more threatening, slower, like a predator giving his prey space to retreat before he inevitably caught her. She did not move.
"It is never too late," Skylar argued. "You are Lord Everus. You rule all of Xoras and the North. You have the King's favour. If you change your mind, no one will fault you. In fact, I intend for all the blame to fall on me," she explained, her desperation seeping into her words. "I do not care if this ruins me. If neither of us chose this, we can work together to stop—
Caspian raised his hand. He breathed out, short and quick, an air of frustration surrounding him. For a moment, his mask slipped, and she saw something beneath it. Weariness. Regret, perhaps.
"I also wish things were different," he agreed. "I also wonder if there is another way."
It was recognition. The hallway fell silent again. Somewhere distant, Skylar heard the faint strains of music from the ball. Life moving on without them.
"But you are wrong. I did choose this."
Skylar looked at this man, this stranger who was to be her husband, and realized she had no idea what to say next. She was shocked, confused and burned with spite all at the same time.
You…" She stopped, unsure how to finish.
"It is too late. Queen Kaya has given her blessing. And more importantly, our parents' have given theirs."
He moved to stand beside her, giving her his arm. He waited for Skylar to take it.
"I guarantee, my Lady, that you will not be happy with me, either. And like you, I have no intention of changing that. We will be together but our hearts will live apart. But at least we will have done what is expected of us."
Caspian returned to his composed self, his reserved mask slipping back onto his face. "I will have done my duty as Lord of Xoras, and you will have saved Astros, and aided your father, and your people."
The long hallway seemed to shrink around her. The world tilted, spun. It took everything she had to stay upright.
Her legs felt weak. Her throat, dry.
She laughed, but it was hollow and cold.
"We should go," he said. "Your parents and their guests will be expecting us." His eyes flickered to her appearance. "And you, my fiery betrothed, need more time to get ready."