(Lina)
It was late afternoon when I received a visit from my parents. I braced myself, feeling the tension settle in my bones even before Mom and Dad stepped through the doors of my room.
When they entered, my parents looked around with that familiar air of judgment, their eyes grazing over the furnishings, barely acknowledging me.
My mother wore her usual look of restrained disapproval, her lips pressed in a thin line and dad observed me quietly, calculating, already assessing what he would say before I even had a chance to greet them.
"Isabella," my mother began, her voice cool and distant, "we need to talk."
I crossed my arms, feeling stubborn. "About what?"
"About your behavior, for one," She replied, looking at me as though I were a child she had caught misbehaving. "We've been hearing… troubling things."
Dad cleared his throat, cutting in with his deep voice. "Your marriage with Prince Nicholas. We've been informed that you've been demanding a divorce."
I felt my heart pound faster at the mention of it. So they had heard, had they? I knew they would come eventually. I took a deep breath, preparing myself. "Yes, I have been asking for a divorce. And it's my right to do so."
"You're right?" Dad's brows shot up, and he took a step closer, his gaze sharp. "Isabella, do you understand what this marriage means? It's not just about you or your happiness. This is a union of two powerful families. A political alliance."
I clenched my fists. "Is that all it is to you? Just a 'union of two families'? What about the fact that he's cheating on me? That doesn't matter?"
My mother sighed, exasperated. "Isabella, men…" Well, they are men. They have their distractions. You should not expect—"
"Distractions?" I repeated, unable to believe what I was hearing. "Are you seriously calling his affair with Lady Elara a distraction?"
Lady Margaret rolled her eyes, waving her hand dismissively as if brushing away my concern. "These things happen. What matters is that you uphold the dignity of this marriage."
"And what about my dignity?" I shot back, feeling a burning anger build in my chest. "You two never cared about what I wanted. You've always treated me like… like some pawn to be moved around for your own advantage."
My father's gaze hardened, his mouth pressing into a flat line. "You are part of a noble family, Isabella. This is how things are done. You were raised to understand that."
"Maybe I was raised wrong, then," I said, my voice trembling with fury. "Because I can't keep pretending everything is fine when it isn't. I won't turn a blind eye to Nicholas's betrayal just because it's what you want."
"Enough, Isabella," Lord Ashford snapped, his tone cutting through the room like a knife. "This marriage is not about love or feelings. This is about power. About alliances. And you… you would throw that all away because you're hurt? Because you feel wronged?"
"Yes!" I shouted, the words spilling out before I could stop myself. "Yes, I would! And why shouldn't I? I told you what Nicholas was doing. I told you how he's betrayed me. But all you care about is your precious alliances."
There was a silence as my words settled in the room, heavy and sharp. My father's eyes were cold, unyielding as if he hadn't heard a word I said, or worse, as if he didn't care.
"You're right, Isabella," He finally said, his voice a low, unfeeling murmur. "This marriage was never about you. It was about power, about alliances, and maintaining our position."
I felt something inside me shatter at his admission, at the calm, emotionless way he said it. It was as if all the love I'd hoped he had for me had never really existed, as if I were nothing more than a tool he had crafted and polished, ready to be used at his convenience.
"Is that all I am to you?" I whispered, my voice small, broken. "A tool to be used?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he looked away as if ashamed, but I knew better. He didn't feel shame; he felt annoyance that I wasn't falling in line.
My mother sighed, stepping forward, her tone slightly softer but still condescending. "Isabella, if you could only see what we're trying to do for you. You're making things difficult by bringing up this nonsense about divorce. If you just focused on being a good wife, if you stopped meddling in things that don't concern you, you'd realize that you have a comfortable life here."
"A comfortable life?" I repeated, feeling my hands shake. "Is that what you think this is? Do you even understand what it's like for me, knowing that my husband is with another woman, that he lies to me every day?"
My father scoffed as though my pain was nothing more than a childish complaint. "Isabella, you need to grow up. This is the world we live in, and if you can't handle it, then maybe you were never suited for this life in the first place."
"Maybe I wasn't," I whispered, bitterness seeping into every word. "Maybe I should never have been forced into this marriage at all."
My mother looked at me, her face a mixture of disappointment and irritation. "Honestly, Isabella. Stop this nonsense. You are being selfish."
"Selfish?" I laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "You're calling me selfish? All I ever wanted was to be happy, to be respected, but instead, I'm expected to turn a blind eye to everything Nicholas does just to keep you two happy."
She stepped forward, reaching out as if to touch my arm, but I pulled back, my whole body tense with anger. "We're doing this for your own good, Isabella. You just don't see it yet."
"I don't think I ever will," I replied coldly, meeting her gaze with a stubbornness I hadn't felt in years. "I'm done being your pawn. If this marriage is nothing but a game to you, then you can find someone else to play along."
My father's face hardened, his eyes narrowing. "That is enough, Isabella. We have given you everything, every opportunity, every luxury. And this is how you repay us? By spitting on the very alliance that keeps you safe and protected?"
I shook my head, feeling the weight of all their expectations, all their demands, crashing down on me. "I'd rather be alone than live like this. I'd rather have nothing than keep pretending to be happy in a marriage that means nothing to either of you."
For the first time, there was something like surprise in my father's eyes, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual coldness. "Then I suppose we have nothing left to discuss."
"Perhaps not," I replied, even though my heart was pounding, aching with the realization that the people who were supposed to love me, to care for me, had only ever seen me as a means to an end.
They turned to leave, my mother looking back one last time, her expression unreadable, while my father walked away without a second glance. The door closed behind them, leaving me alone in the silence. I couldn't help but feel like something was about to go wrong.