My blood boiled underneath my skin as I swung open the front door, nearly breaking it off its hinges. The patter of my younger sisters feet followed me down the front porch, and onto the dirt pathway.

“Marion, wait!” Annora pleaded, “We can work this out, please!”

“We can’t fucking fix this.” I growled, my head snapping back to look at her.

Annora stood, her chest rising and falling, an exasperated look on her face. The wind blew around her, whisking up her hair and her dress. Her face was red, and she had tears pricking her eyes.

For a moment I saw Annora when she was younger. I saw her curly hair filled with ribbons, and her frilly dresses. I saw her round cheeks and freckled face. I saw her being doted on when I wasn’t, and I remembered all she got that I didn’t.

“Stay.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “You can’t leave me here.”

I looked past her and saw my father standing on the front porch steps next to Terret Gavinis, the man I was just arranged to marry.

Annora stepped closer to me and took my hands in hers. “I know we aren’t close, I know we never have been. But stay.”

I stared into her eyes for a moment, and ripped my hands from her grasp. I pushed my face closer to hers, our noses mere inches away from each other. “This whole town knows who I am. I won’t change for you, for Father, or for anyone. I won’t. I refuse.” My words come out nearly a growl. “I will never marry him. I’m not going to get the short end of the stick with this one.”

Annora takes a step back, hurt painted on her face. “If you don’t accept him now, Marion, you shall never be loved.”

I clench my fists. Annora always knew how to hit me where it hurt.

My mind ran with a million things I could say, all the ways I could hurt her back. But instead, I turned back around and walked away.

I heard her crying above the whistle of the hot summer wind.

The clinking of glasses and cheering pulled me back to myself, and I watched as the party started to come alive.

The whole ballroom was enchanting. From the intricate glass chandeliers, to the hanging wisteria along the walls. Candlelight gave the ballroom a fiery glow, and food and drinks filled every table. I never could’ve imagined anything close to this in my life.

And I was dreading every second.

The corset they shoved me in pinched me in all the wrong ways, and my hair was being held in place by what felt like a million pins stabbing into my skull. My dress was heavy in a way that not only made me slow, but overheated. I decided the best thing I could do was stand on the side, not moving an inch for the entire night. It is a beautiful dress though, a dark green ball gown with lace detailing. Although, I think I’d prefer to see it on another woman instead of myself.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

My heart raced knowing that the Queen wanted to see me. Either she is going to have me killed, or she's going to have me tortured and then killed. My sweaty palms gripped onto the cup of wine I held even stronger.

The maids that helped me get ready listed off a million do’s and don’ts when it came to an event such as this one. I was told to stand up straight and smile, but not to smile too much or men might get the wrong idea. I was instructed to eat but to not get my dress messy, and told to dance but I have to wait to be asked. Every little thing they told me contradicted the other, so I instead am disregarding their rules and shall drink myself to the point past piss drunk, if that is even a thing.

The music suddenly changed, and a hush came over the room in one big wave. Everyone's heads snapped towards the staircase at the front entrance, and gasps were scattered about the room as the Queen entered.

She wore the same shade of dress that she wore in the carriage, a deep blue. Her hair fell perfectly around her, and a silver crown was atop her head. She smiled politely and made her way down the stairs where women were gathered to speak to her and gawk over her dress.

I downed the rest of my wine and looked to the table next to me to grab another glass. The music picked back up and was now playing an airy tune. A few couples danced, but everyone else was too busy trying to get a good look at our new Queen.

I crossed my arms in front of myself and simply waited. I wasn’t quite sure for what, either a man asking me to dance, or for someone to drag me away like a pig to slaughter.

I had managed to down another glass of wine, and looked over to see where the Queen was now.

Only ten steps away.

Fuck.

I sat down the glass and turned to walk away, picking my dress up so as to not trip. My swollen feet were against me as I waddled.

“Marion Creed.”

I was dead in my tracks. Well, I had a good run I suppose. I turned around reluctantly, and I found myself not only terrified, but gawking.

“Yes- Uhm, your highness.” I curtsied to the best of my ability given my injuries and terrible shoes.

Those cat-like eyes ran over my entire body, my entire being. It was like she could read my soul, my whole existence from just one look.

I tried my absolute best not to run my eyes over her too. She looked ravishing atop the stairs, but now… Good Gods above.

“You look better Marion, how are you feeling?” She asked, her voice sultry. She held a glass in one hand, swirling it as if she was already bored with the whole ordeal.

“Much better, your highness. Thank you for everything. And I apologize for… Everything.” I fiddled with my thumbs. “This is a gorgeous ball, your highness.”

She grinned, looking me up and down once again. “It wasn’t exactly the entrance I had planned, but I forgive you.” She took a sip from her glass. “Thank you, I was very adamant about this being grand.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “How can I ever repay you for your kindness?”

She tilted her head a little as if she were thinking, and I dug my nails into my palm anxiously. I don’t even have enough money to buy a loaf of burnt bread, let alone pay the Queen. I should’ve ran back to commander Ulric with my tail between my legs and taken the thousand push ups or mucking out the knights stables for a year.

“Consider your role as a knight payment enough.” She smiled, and this time it seemed genuine.

I curtsied again, “Thank you, your highness.”

A part of me wanted to question her, to ask when I can go back to the Knights keep. I knew Fennix was going mad. He went crazy the time I had gotten sick and was forced to stay in the infirmary while I puked my guts out. I’ve all he’s truly got, it makes me both grateful and worried.

“You still must be in pain.” Queen Graelin grabbed my hand unexpectedly, squeezing it a little. “I apologize for making you come to this ball, that was foolish of me.”

I shot her a puzzled look, “How did you know I was in pain?”

“Your face twisted like you were hurt,” She squeezed my hand again, my heartbeat jolting at the feeling. “I’ll have a maid check you at once.”

I shook my head, “Oh, Gods, no I- I just was thinking about something else is all.”

She didn’t hear my words of protest as she called over a maid. “Have a room made for her at once, and call upon the doctor. She shall stay another two nights to make absolute sure of her health.”

The Queen was still holding onto my hand as she spoke, and her actions didn’t feel like they matched her words. She seemed conflicted, like she wanted to keep me here longer for another reason than my health. Like she knew I was thinking about Fennix and how I wanted to go back to the Knights keep. I stared at her blankly.

The maid she had ordered took my arm and began to lead me away. My eyes were still locked onto the Queen. She gave me a blank, unbending expression.

It reminded me of the look I gave Annora the day I left.

The maid led me into a vacant room and hurriedly closed the window that was left cracked open. One last gust of wind managed to enter before she closed it shut.

I could’ve sworn I felt the hot summer wind even in the dead of winter.