I reach the library – the one place in this castle where I've found solace these past weeks. The books don't judge, don't scheme, don't see me as merely a vessel for producing heirs.
As I push open the heavy oak door, I freeze. Someone is already inside. A figure stands by the window, bathed in moonlight, and when they turn to face me, I see eyes that burn like amber in the darkness.
"Running away, little princess?" The voice is deep, rich, and carries an accent I can't quite place. "I wouldn't recommend the east gate. They doubled the guards there at sunset."
"You'll just have to get Ariel pregnant immediately. That way she'll be chained to you forever." my fiancé's father's voice is cold, calculating.
"She knows her place." my fiancé replies. "She'll fall in line and become a proper wife in short time."
My heart sinks when I realize that they're talking about me – and not as a soon-to-be newlywed Princess, but just as…as some kind of surrogate.
All my life I'd been raised as a princess – learning manners, diplomacy, and always putting the needs of others before my own. I had accepted this arranged marriage because I believed it was my duty, my destiny.
But now, hiding behind the ornate curtains of the reception hall, I realize that I was nothing more than a pawn in their game. My so-called fiancé and his father had planned everything from the beginning.