The great hall was alive with chaos when Isla pushed through the towering double doors. The nobles clustered together in tight knots, their voices low but buzzing with energy. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. The sight made her stomach twist. Whatever announcement Clara had mentioned, it had shaken the entire court.
And judging by the way the nobles' heads turned as she entered, she was at the center of it.
Clara hovered just behind her, wringing her hands nervously. "I tried to warn you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the din. "But I didn't know how else to prepare you for… this."
"For what?" Isla hissed through clenched teeth, her heart pounding. She scanned the room, searching for answers, for anything that might explain the rising panic clawing at her chest.
Her eyes found Adrian first. He stood near the far side of the hall, watching her with his usual infuriating calm. But there was something different about his expression tonight—something sharper. His smirk was gone, replaced by a faint crease in his brow. When their eyes met, he inclined his head slightly, a silent acknowledgment. It wasn't comforting.
Before Isla could demand an explanation, the sharp crack of a staff striking the stone floor silenced the crowd. All eyes turned to the dais at the front of the room, where King Edric stood flanked by two royal guards. His presence was commanding, his silver-threaded robes shimmering under the glow of the chandeliers.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the court," the king began, his voice carrying effortlessly over the now-silent hall. "As you are all aware, the engagement between my son, Prince Louis, and Lady Evangeline has been dissolved this evening."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, but a single glare from the king silenced it immediately. Isla's breath caught in her throat. She had known this moment was coming—Louis had made it perfectly clear in the garden—but hearing it spoken aloud, in front of everyone, made it all the more real. And all the more terrifying.
"But," the king continued, his gaze sweeping across the room, "an alliance of this nature is too valuable to simply cast aside. It is with the kingdom's best interests in mind that I have made a decision."
The room seemed to hold its collective breath. Isla's pulse thundered in her ears as she gripped the folds of her gown tightly.
"Lady Evangeline," the king said, his piercing gaze locking onto hers, "will be betrothed to Lord Adrian Blackthorn."
The words hit her like a physical blow. The hall erupted into chaos, the nobles' voices rising in a cacophony of shocked exclamations and hurried whispers. Isla stood frozen, her mind struggling to process what she had just heard.
Betrothed. To Adrian.
It couldn't be true. It couldn't be real. And yet, the weight of the king's words pressed down on her like an iron chain.
"Your Majesty," she blurted, her voice trembling as she stepped forward. "Surely there's been some kind of mistake—"
"There is no mistake," the king interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "This arrangement has been carefully considered. Lord Blackthorn is a trusted ally of the crown, and his union with you will strengthen the bonds between our families."
*Trusted ally?* Isla's mind reeled. Adrian was many things—infuriating, cunning, insufferably smug—but "trusted" was not a word she would have used to describe him. Not in a million years.
She turned toward Adrian, hoping to find some sign that this was all some elaborate joke. But his expression was unreadable, his dark eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her skin prickle.
"Lord Blackthorn," the king said, addressing Adrian now, "do you accept this arrangement?"
Adrian stepped forward, his movements as smooth and deliberate as ever. He bowed deeply, his voice steady as he replied, "It would be my honor, Your Majesty."
*Honor?* Isla wanted to scream. Adrian didn't do *anything* out of honor. He was up to something—he had to be. But before she could voice her protest, the king raised his hand, silencing the room once more.
"The details of the betrothal will be finalized in the coming days," he declared. "For now, let us celebrate this new union."
The crowd erupted into polite applause, though the undercurrent of shock and confusion was impossible to miss. Isla's chest tightened as she fought to keep her composure. She could feel the weight of a hundred pairs of eyes on her, their gazes heavy with judgment and curiosity.
She needed to get out of here.
---
The corridor outside the great hall was mercifully empty, the muffled sounds of the celebration fading as Isla hurried down the stone passageway. Her mind raced, her thoughts a jumbled mess of anger, confusion, and disbelief. How had this happened? How had Adrian managed to worm his way into her life yet again—this time with the king's blessing?
"Running away already?"
The familiar voice made her stop in her tracks. She turned to find Adrian leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His smirk was back, though it lacked its usual edge of mockery.
"What are you doing here?" Isla demanded, her voice sharper than she intended. "Shouldn't you be inside basking in your 'honor'?"
Adrian pushed off the wall and took a step toward her, his expression turning serious. "I thought you might need a moment to breathe. That was… quite the announcement."
She glared at him, her frustration boiling over. "Don't pretend to be concerned about me. This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it?"
"Is it?" he asked, his tone calm but laced with something she couldn't quite decipher. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like I've just been thrust into a very *public* engagement with a woman who despises me."
"Don't act like this wasn't your doing," she snapped. "You've been scheming since the moment you showed up at court. Admit it."
Adrian's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't rise to her bait. "Believe what you want, Isla. But I didn't plan this. The king made his decision, and now we're both stuck with it."
"Stuck with it?" She let out a bitter laugh. "You could have refused. You could have said no."
"And what would that have accomplished?" he countered, his voice rising ever so slightly. "A public rejection like that would have humiliated both of us. It would have made you look even more suspicious than you already do. Do you really think that's what you need right now?"
She hated that he had a point. But that didn't mean she had to like it.
"This isn't over," she said, her voice low and trembling with barely contained anger. "I don't care what the king says. I'll find a way out of this."
Adrian studied her for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, to her surprise, he smiled—not his usual smug grin, but something softer. Something almost genuine.
"I believe you will," he said quietly. "But until then, you're stuck with me."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the empty corridor.
---
By the time Isla returned to her family's quarters, her frustration had reached a boiling point. She pushed open the door with more force than necessary, startling her younger brother, Thomas, who was sprawled on the sofa with a book in his lap.
"Whoa," Thomas said, sitting up straight. "What happened to you? You look like you just fought a dragon and lost."
"Close enough," Isla muttered, kicking off her shoes and collapsing into the nearest chair. She buried her face in her hands, letting out a muffled groan.
Her mother, seated at the writing desk near the window, turned to look at her with a frown. "Isla? What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Isla repeated, her voice muffled by her hands. Then she looked up, her eyes blazing. "What's wrong is that the king just announced my engagement to Adrian Blackthorn."
Her mother's eyes widened in shock. "What?"
Thomas let out a low whistle. "Adrian Blackthorn? The Adrian Blackthorn? The one you've been complaining about nonstop for weeks?"
"Yes," Isla snapped. "That Adrian Blackthorn."
Her father chose that moment to enter the room, a cup of tea in hand. He paused mid-sip, his brow furrowing. "What's this about Adrian Blackthorn?"
"Apparently, your daughter is marrying him," Thomas said, his tone far too cheerful for Isla's liking.
Their father blinked, then set his tea down carefully. "I see."
"No, you *don't* see," Isla said, throwing her hands in the air. "This is a disaster. A catastrophe. The king just decided—without consulting me, might I add—that I'm to be betrothed to the most insufferable man in the kingdom."
Her mother frowned, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "But… why? I thought you were engaged to Prince Louis."
"Not anymore," Isla said bitterly. "Louis ended it. And apparently, the king decided Adrian was a suitable replacement."
Thomas grinned, leaning back against the sofa. "Well, this is going to be *interesting*."
"Thomas," their mother said sharply, but Isla could tell she was struggling to hide her own disbelief. "This isn't a joke."
"Maybe not," Thomas said, shrugging. "But you have to admit, it's kind of funny. Isla, married to *Adrian Blackthorn*? I mean, come on. That's comedy gold."
Isla glared at him. "I'm glad you're enjoying this."
Her father cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Regardless of how we feel about the arrangement, it is a royal decree. We must tread carefully."
"Carefully?" Isla repeated, her voice rising. "You want me to be careful while the king hands me over to—"
"To a man who might protect you," her father interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. "Isla, you've been walking a dangerous line for months. If this engagement keeps you safe, then perhaps it's not the disaster you think it is."
She stared at him, her anger deflating slightly. She hated that he was right. As much as she loathed the idea of being tied to Adrian, there was no denying that the engagement offered her a measure of protection. For now, at least.
But that didn't mean she had to like it.
"I'm going to fix this," she said, more to herself than to her family. "I don't know how yet, but I will."
Her mother reached out, squeezing her hand gently. "We believe in you, Isla."
Thomas snorted. "I don't. But I'm looking forward to watching you try."
"Thomas," their mother scolded, but Isla couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at her lips. At least some things never changed.
---
Later that night, as Isla lay awake in her bed, staring up at the canopy above her, she couldn't stop replaying the events of the evening in her mind. Adrian's calm acceptance of the engagement. The king's unyielding decree. The way Louis had walked away without a second glance.
Most of all, she couldn't stop thinking about Adrian's parting words: *Until then, you're stuck with me.*
Her fists clenched the sheets as a thought crept into her mind, unbidden and unwelcome.
*Or maybe… he's stuck with me.*