Arissa released the breath she had been holding, a mix of relief and mischief swirling in her chest. She returned to her small room, her heart racing with anticipation.
"I hope those dresses fall apart!" she smirked, a giddy shriek escaping her lips.
She flopped onto her thin mattress, too exhausted to think of anything else, and quickly drifted into a deep sleep.
The next morning, Arissa was jolted awake by a cacophony of shouting and crying from upstairs. Forgetting to change out of her pajamas, she bolted up the stairs, curiosity propelling her forward.
"HOW CAN MY DRESSES BE RIPPED RIGHT BEFORE THE WEDDING?!" Evie's voice pierced the air, her sobs echoing down the hall like thunderclouds ready to burst.
"Evie, it's okay! We can figure something out!" Matthew tried to soothe her, but his voice trembled with uncertainty.
Arissa's heart raced, feigning concern as she called out, "What happened?!"
"NONE OF YOUR CONCERN, ARISSA!" Matthew snapped, his frustration palpable.
"Oh," Arissa mumbled, suddenly feeling small under his glare.
Evie, still sobbing, slammed her door in a dramatic flourish, the sound reverberating through the hallway.
"Go back to your room," Matthew commanded, his voice clipped.
"Gladly," Arissa whispered under her breath, retreating to the safety of her own space.
Hours crawled by until lunchtime. All four gathered at the dining table, the air thick with an uneasy silence. Rosie and Arissa had prepared a simple meal, but the atmosphere was strained, especially for Arissa, who felt like an outsider.
"Dad, I have something to say!" Arissa declared suddenly, breaking the silence.
The room fell quiet, everyone turning to look at her expectantly.
"I'm going to the King's wedding!" she announced, her voice firm and resolute.
Matthew dropped his utensils in disbelief. "What?!"
Evie coughed, an incredulous expression plastered on her face. "You're not going!"
"Yes, I am! I deserve a chance to—"
"You don't even have a dress!" Evie laughed, the sound dripping with scorn.
"No need! I can find my own. I have money!" Arissa replied, her pride swelling.
"NO, YOU ARE NOT!" Matthew bellowed, slamming his palm on the table.
"Please, Dad!" Arissa pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.
In a fit of rage, Matthew splashed water from his glass across the table, hitting Arissa's face. "STOP CALLING ME DAD! THIS IS FINAL!"
Arissa's anger flared, her eyes blazing. "I HATE YOU!" she screamed, rising from her seat and storming out of the dining room.
She threw on her hood and slammed the door behind her, the sound echoing through the house.
"I TOLD YOU THAT SCOWLING WITCH WAS NO GOOD!" Matthew shouted as he stomped away.
Evie cackled, delighting in the chaos.
"EVIE! MANNERS! Finish your food and be quiet this instant!" Rosie snapped, trying to regain control.
Outside, Arissa wandered the streets of the city, tears streaming down her cheeks. Each step felt heavier, the weight of her anger and neglect pressing down on her. She was so consumed by her emotions that she barely noticed where she was going and collided with a young man dressed in fine noble attire.
"Huh?! AH!" she yelped as she stumbled.
He caught her effortlessly. "Are you alright, ma'am?" he asked, concern etched on his handsome face.
Arissa, feeling embarrassed, pushed away from him. "I'm sorry, sir!" she stammered, quickly bowing her head and attempting to wipe away her tears.
"It's alright!" he reassured her, lifting her chin gently. He handed her a handkerchief.
"Thank you so much!" Arissa replied, grateful yet flustered.
As she wiped her tears, she realized he had slipped away, disappearing into the crowd. "Oh, I wanted to thank him," she muttered to herself, a pang of regret hitting her.
With a sigh, she tucked the handkerchief into her pocket and turned back toward home, determination rising within her. No matter what, she would find a way to change her fate.