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“Never speak of our agreement to anyone. Never. Do you understand me?” The venom and urgency in his voice silenced her immediately.

She merely nodded.

He took a deep breath. “Now, let us go to our wedding feast, it is not dignified to be late.” He made sure to put emphasis on thedignified,continuing his mocking of her.

She gritted her teeth. Sophie came over to her and gave her a hug and a reassuring smile before passing the prince and giving him a seething glare as she left.

The prince did not seem phased by her departure, and instead merely held out his arm. Suddenly, very conscious that she was alone with him, Wren felt a rising anxiety. Pushing it down, she took a deep breath and went to put her arm in his.

The touch made her feel as if she would be sick right then and there as she remembered the way he had used his body to prevent her escape, but before she had time to dwell on it, they were already moving. He did not bother to speak to her, and she could not have brought herself to speak even if he had. She felt dizzier and dizzier as their steps continued, and as soon as she thought she could not take one more, he suddenly stopped.

“Breathe, Wren.”

Wren realized then that her breaths were coming fast, and yet she could not get any air into her lungs.

The prince released her from his touch and backed away. “Wren. Look at me.”

When she did not, could not look at him, he repeated the command with more force. She finally managed to comply and her panic was momentarily overshadowed by the surprise she felt at the genuine concern in his eyes.

“You need to slow down your breathing. No, do not look away from me. Look in my eyes. Breathe in. Good, now release it.” He continued to stand across from her and take breaths in and out with her.

When her head began to clear, and she felt as though her lungs would not collapse, a sudden wave of weariness came over her.

“Thank you.” she said quietly.

Cerulean eyes ran over her, searching for any sign of the panic that had just gripped her. Seeing nothing, his eyes went back to their usual guarded steel and he turned towards the direction they had been walking. “It was nothing. You will need to learn to control your emotions. Are you able to handle this?”

Whatever gratefulness he had earned from her was gone. She was a fool to think there had ever been actual concern for her in him. He only cared that she present herself as a dutiful bride.

The panic still threatened to build again, but she would do this because she must. She would do it because she needed to know more about where she was and how she could fight it. She nodded and returned to taking his arm.

It turned out their destination was not far from them as they came to another set of large wooden doors with a guard on either side. They bowed in unison when they saw them. The prince did not so much as look at them. They opened the doors and festive music and revelry filled her ears.

Following the prince’s lead, she entered the hall and was not prepared for the sight that befell her. It was the largest room she had ever seen filled with tables that followed the outline of the space creating an open area in the middle of the room. It might have seemed plain if it weren't for the tapestries of white and crimson accented by elaborate stained glass windows lining the walls.

Across from the tables was a dais where an imposing man with salt and pepper hair down to his shoulders loomed above them all. His face was set in a grim line as he seemed to survey the people below him as if they were ants beneath his feet. Next to him was Prince Richard, who was having his glass refilled.

The sight of so many finely dressed people drinking and socializing as if they had no cares was almost as fascinating as everything else about the room. Wren might have been content to spend hours watching them and trying to understand what it must be like to have so little responsibility if it weren’t for the music ceasing quickly followed by the voices that had eagerly been raised moments prior. Cold dread crawled over Wren’s skin as she felt a chorus of eyes land on her, dissecting her and devouring her all at once.

“My good people of Haradon, I would introduce you to your new princess, Princess Wren of Crishaven.” The king’s booming voice was like a siren calling out to a ship lost at sea in the dark of night. He stood with his arms wide and inviting with a smile that looked like it had been rehearsed.

The hall erupted in thunderous applause and she became acutely conscious of a different set of eyes on her. Prince Malaki was smiling down at her, but she realized the smile did not meet his eyes.

“It is an honor to finally be able to introduce your new princess to you all. There will be much time this evening for us to celebrate, but first, let us feast.”

At the prince’s words, the band resumed their music and everyone began talking eagerly amongst themselves. The prince moved to the dais, still holding her arm in his. He might as well have been carrying her leash for the way she blindly followed his lead. They climbed the steps to where the king was standing, holding his arms out to her.

She noticed that as they got closer, he was a considerably large man, taller than either of his sons, and his body spoke of many plentiful years of food and leisure. As they neared him, the prince let go of her. The relief of freedom from his touch short-lived as the king put his arms around her. She barely remembered to return the gesture as her heart beat rapidly, his hot breath seemed to collect on her neck and the sickly scent of too sweet wine met her.

He pulled away from her and smiled at his eldest son, but the words he spoke were cold. “Was this your girl’s doing?”

Wren struggled to understand the question before understanding dawned on her and a chill filled her veins. The prince had warned her that his father was not a man to be trifled with, but she hadn’t understood till she heard the way he seemed to promise retribution in a simple question, his deep voice impregnating each word with intention.

She was about to take the blame as she had previously done when speaking to the prince, but the prince replied just as coldly, “No, Father, I take all the credit for the last-minute wardrobe change. I just couldn’t help but imagine how breathtaking my wife would be in crimson. It would seem I was right, wouldn’t you agree?”

The word he referred to her as, in addition to his quick defense of Sophie, was enough to muddle her mind that she was barely aware of the king assuring his son that they would continue the conversation later. An arm draped over her shoulders causing her to jump slightly. It was clear she was on edge and needed to center herself. She wasn’t gifted the time to even try as Prince Richard leaned his body into hers.

“Sister! Ah, it seems like forever since I last saw you. I must say, you are beautiful in red, but I rather thought you would be more comfortable in wool.”