Page 14 of A Kingdom of Broken Bonds

Tonight’s ball, however, will be different, as it is the first where one of us will be announced as an intended bride.

The other brides and I currently wait in a small room adjoining the ballroom. Our escorts and advisors stand off to the side, talking in low voices but never taking their eyes from their charges—all except Geoff, who is at my side, brushing his hand down my outfit and rearranging my skirts for the hundredth time. His unflappable demeanour isn’t present tonight, and it’s strange seeing him on edge like this.

“You know what you have to do. You have trained your whole life for this.”

This is not the first time I’ve heard him say this, and I am sure it won’t be the last. I believe he’s trying to give me a pep talk after my disastrous meeting with the prince, but he’s wrong, I don’t know how to deal with this. Never in my whole time of training did I consider that the prince wouldn’t want me at his side.

Movement catches my eye, and I look up in time to see someone walking towards me.

“Lady Thea,” Bliss greets brightly. The other brides have kept their distance, most likely because of the tension rolling from myself and Geoff.

“Bliss.” I dip my head in return, forgetting to address her formally.

From anyone else, they might not notice the slipup, but I am a stickler for getting titles right, and Bliss knows this. Raising a brow, she tilts her head, her eyes becoming more assessing as she looks me over.

“Your dress is stunning,” she comments after a few heavy seconds pass, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

She’s right, it is a beautiful garment. The dress is the colour of autumn leaves, starting with brighter colours at the shoulders and bodice, and slowly transitioning into burnt oranges and deep reds at the bottom. Hundreds of tiny fabric leaves have been bound together over pads to form epaulets, which exaggerate the shoulders of the dress. Small twists of stiff brown fabric made to look like branches have been curled and attached to the epaulets, giving it a dramatic, imposing effect. From a distance, they looked like armour, but as you come closer, you can see the movement of the individual leaves.

Skintight sleeves the colour of egg yolk end in delicate points by my fingers, with glittering details catching the light depicting falling leaves. My bodice is a mixture of oranges and reds, blending into each other seamlessly. The front panels of the bodice are decorated with swirls of golden embroidery. In comparison to the rest of the dress, the skirts are relatively plain, with layers of different coloured gauzy fabric that shift with each move, flashing a different autumn hue. However, what brings the two pieces together are the red embroidered leaves and vines creeping down from the bodice to the skirt. It looks as though the dress is alive, the vines growing on the fabric.

My dress for the ball was organised months ago, and this design had originally been picked as a representation of my transition from a lady of Trador to a princess of Drathlor. It was a beautiful idea. Wearing it after being rejected by the prince, however, changed the meaning behind it for me. Now, I feel like one of those autumn leaves, full of life but slowly losing my life force and becoming obsolete.

“Thank you,” I reply with a small, tight smile, hoping she’s not able to see past the dress and into the despair inside me. “You look beautiful tonight.”

I mean it. Her hair is pulled back and pinned up with seashells, and she looks ethereal. She wears minimal makeup, only some gloss on her lips and a swipe of mascara to exaggerate her lashes. Her dress is one-shouldered in design and fairly simple, and it’s a mix of gauzy fabrics that look like sea foam, swishing like a gentle wave as she moves.

Waving off my comment, she looks at my face as though she’s searching for something. “This night is about you. How did your meeting with the king go?”

While she’s the closest thing I have to a friend here, we still don’t know each other much thanks to being kept apart, which means I don’t know how much I can trust her with.

Everyone will know sooner or later. Will Prince Havoc reject me in front of everyone tonight, or will the king make good on his promise? Either way, my life is not going to turn out as expected. My options are dismal. He will either refuse our bond and everyone will know, or I will be married to a male who hates what I am. Even just knowing this starts the painful throbbing in my chest. It feels like an open wound. If I’m feeling this bad, then it has to be affecting him too, even if it’s my second-hand pain. He can’t be completely spared from this agony.

Geoff is looking at me sternly, and I know he wouldn’t want me to say anything to Bliss about what happened. Keeping my gaze away from him, I take a deep breath and meet her questioning eyes, needing a female friend to support me.

I turn away from the other brides and guide her to follow me, not wanting to announce my troubles to the others. “The prince is refusing to marry me.”

Geoff makes a small noise beside me, disagreeing with my choice to share my news with the siren. I don’t regret my decision, though, as I see emotions flitting across her face.

Whatever she was expecting me to say, this clearly wasn’t it. Confusion, anger, and second-hand pain are written across her features, open and easy for me to read. Her whole posture changes, seeming to become bigger as she takes a step closer to me. I think she might be trying to protect me from the others, and I can’t put into words how much I appreciate her.

“Thea…” Her voice trails off. At first I think it’s out of sympathy, but I quickly realise she isn’t feeling sorry for me, she’s anticipating what the pain of the experience must be like and how that’s hurting me. “I thought that perhaps you were having doubts about marrying him. I had no idea that this was what you were dealing with. Can I do anything for you?” she asks, and before I can even reply, her expression shifts again, and indignation colours her face. “He’s your mate, he can’t just say no. What happens now? Oh, if I get my hands on him…” She seems angry on my behalf, and that affirms something inside me. Seeing her reactions lets me know that what I’m feeling is valid. While it doesn’t take away the pain, sharing this has relieved some of the burden from my shoulders.

“I don’t know. The king said he would talk to his son and everything would go ahead as planned.” Shrugging, I glance over my shoulder at the other brides. They have been sending a few curious glances my way, but I’m sure none of them can overhear our conversation.

“But… he’s your mate,” Bliss continues, flabbergasted by what she learned, “not just a random male the king paired you with. How could he just refuse you? What about the prophecy? It makes no sense.”

I have no way to explain any of it to her as I don’t understand it myself. The one surety I had was that I was going to be marrying my mate, and that everything would work out because I would have his unfailing support at my side. “I know.”

My head pounds and my stomach cramps uncomfortably with my stress. I’m starting to regret the fact that I turned down a feed earlier, my stress making it harder to control my baser instincts. While blood feeds and nourishes me, it also helps me keep my feral side at bay and calms me in general—something that I could really use right now.

The door that leads into the ballroom swings open, and a tall male enters. Glancing around, he seems to do a headcount before nodding to himself and clearing his throat. “The king is ready for you. Please line up.”

We all start to move, knowing what’s expected of us. Being the first bride, I’m expected to take my place at the front of the queue. Ember, Bliss, Mallory, Terra, and Celest will all line up behind me in order of the prophecy. Usually Meadow would take the final spot as the last bride, but today it is just the six of us. Will the king address the issue?

“If you want me to drown him for you, just let me know,” Bliss whispers as she passes me to line up. If I wasn’t feeling so raw, I might have taken her up on the offer, although the scary thing is, I think she would actually do it.

Moving into position, Geoff offers me his arm, and as the doors swing open, we step into the ballroom. There is no time to be nervous, and I know better than to look around. Instead, I keep my gaze ahead and shoulders back. With the dramatic dress, I look like a queen, so I adopt that persona so no one can see the damage their prince caused in my heart.

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