Aurora stared out of the car window as the palace loomed closer, its golden gates towering over her like the final barrier between freedom and defeat. The gun she had held so fiercely just moments ago now rested heavy in her lap, her fingers trembling slightly as her last glimmer of hope crumbled to dust..
Lucian Daiuz was her last chance. And now, that chance had been crushed like a poorly made soufflé that fell flat before even making it to the oven. She almost laughed at the thought, the absurdity of it all settling in. Here she was, Crown Princess of Dysheria, defeated not by armies or politics, but by the sheer indifference of a man she'd foolishly thought could save her.
The car came to a stop at the palace gates, and the guards were on her in an instant. They surrounded the vehicle, their faces stern, as if they were escorting Dysheria's most wanted criminal rather than its reluctant princess. One of them opened the door for her, his grip firm as he helped her out. No words were exchanged, but the tension in the air was palpable. They knew something was wrong.
The palace felt colder than usual as she walked through the grand entrance. Her eyes immediately caught sight of her father, standing rigid at the top of the main staircase, his expression dark and foreboding. The mayor of Dysheria was not a man accustomed to disappointment, and tonight, Aurora had become his greatest failure.
Beside him stood Vincent Haze, the man she had come to despise more than anyone in the world. His greasy smirk made her skin crawl, and the sight of him holding Ashley's hand—her friend, her co-conspirator—made her stomach twist in knots. Ashley's wide eyes met hers, filled with apology and regret, though Aurora couldn't blame her for getting caught. Vincent, ever the snake, had barged into her room earlier that night, pulling the covers off the sleeping figure only to discover it wasn't Aurora beneath the sheets, but Ashley, who had tried to cover for her.
Vincent's grip on Ashley's wrist tightened as he whispered something in her ear, his smirk widening. It took every ounce of Aurora's willpower not to recoil at the sight of him.
"Well, well," Vincent's voice oozed through the silence like oil spreading across water. "Our runaway princess returns."
Aurora lifted her chin, determined not to show the fear that churned inside her. She had nothing left now—no escape, no Lucian. All she could do was face whatever came next.
Her father's glare could have melted stone. "What were you thinking?" His voice thundered through the hall, each word like a lash across her skin. "Running off in the middle of the night like a child? And for what? To make a fool of yourself in front of Lucian Daiuz?"
"I wasn't—"
"Silence!" His command echoed, silencing any defense she might have offered. "You will marry Vincent tomorrow, as planned. No more excuses, no more delays. This ends now."
Aurora's heart sank. Tomorrow? They had moved the wedding up. She felt the weight of the decision crush her chest. There was no more time to plan, no more time to escape. This was it.
Vincent, still holding Ashley, chuckled darkly. "Looks like we'll be seeing each other down the aisle sooner than expected, Princess."
Before Aurora could respond, Ashley jerked her arm free from Vincent's grasp, glaring at him. "You'll regret this," she spat, her voice trembling with anger. "My father will come for me, and when he does, you won't be smirking."
Vincent's smirk didn't waver, but the tension in the room shifted as the guards moved to seize Ashley. Just as they reached for her, Aurora's father raised a hand. "Let her go," he said, his voice cold. "She's not worth it."
Reluctantly, the guards stepped back, and Ashley threw one last glare at Vincent before storming out of the palace, her heels clicking furiously on the marble floors. As the grand doors slammed shut behind her, the hall fell into an uneasy silence.
Aurora could only watch as her one ally vanished into the night. She was alone now—truly alone.
Her father turned back to her, his expression harder than ever. "You've embarrassed this family for the last time, Aurora. Tomorrow, you will marry Vincent, and that will be the end of it."
With that, he turned on his heel, marching up the staircase without another word. Vincent, still smirking, lingered for a moment, his eyes raking over Aurora like a predator eyeing its prey. "See you tomorrow, Princess," he sneered before following her father.
As soon as they were gone, Aurora felt her legs buckle. She barely managed to hold herself up as she stumbled through the empty corridors, making her way to her sister's old room—the only place that still felt remotely safe. The room had been left untouched since her sister's death, a mausoleum of memories and unanswered questions.
Aurora collapsed onto the bed, clutching the pillow that still smelled faintly of her sister's perfume. The grief she had been suppressing for so long bubbled to the surface, her chest tightening as tears spilled down her cheeks.
She had failed. Everything she had tried to avoid—the marriage, the trap, the life of misery—was now inevitable. Lucian had been her last hope, and now even that was gone, leaving her to the wolves.
Her heart ached not just for herself, but for her sister, who had been trapped in this same nightmare before her. The grief of her loss mixed with the bitterness of betrayal, swirling into a storm of emotions she could no longer control.
"I'm sorry," she whispered into the empty room, her voice barely audible. "I couldn't stop it. I wasn't strong enough."
Her sister's memory felt like a ghost beside her, the weight of her death hanging over Aurora like a shroud. She thought of Vincent's smirk, of her father's fury, and of Lucian's cold rejection. There was nothing left for her now but a life she didn't want, a fate she hadn't chosen.
As her tears soaked the pillow, Aurora's thoughts drifted back to Lucian, to the way he had looked at her with indifference, and she let out a bitter laugh through her sobs.