The moon hung high in the velvet sky, its pale light filtering through the heavy drapes of Avery's chamber. The quiet of the night seemed to press down on her, amplifying the thrum of her thoughts. She sat by the window, her arms wrapped around her knees, staring out at the sprawling gardens below. The faint scent of jasmine drifted through the air, a gentle reminder of nights spent running through those very gardens with her siblings, carefree and unburdened by duty.
A month ago, her father, King Alden, had discussed with her, Abigail, and Rowan about the urgent matter. Abigail had been the focal point of the discussion, her love for Prince Riven of Elmont rendering her unable to fulfill the expectations of marrying the prince of Everia. The gravity of the situation had been palpable as King Alden weighed the future of their kingdom. His solution, however, had caught Avery off guard.
She was the solution, The decision had not been easy, but it was logical. As the second-born daughter, Avery had always existed slightly apart from the responsibilities that Abigail bore, but now those very responsibilities had found her. She had agreed without hesitation, knowing it was the only way to maintain peace between the kingdoms and shield her sister from an impossible choice. The weight of her father's decision had settled heavily on her shoulders, even as Abigail and Rowan struggled to accept the shift in duty. Abigail's guilt and Rowan's concern had been unmistakable, but Avery had assured them both that it was what she wanted.
The truth, though, was more complex. While her heart ached with the magnitude of the sacrifice, she understood the necessity of it. Her sister's happiness and the kingdom's stability were worth the personal cost. Avery's resolve had solidified in that moment, even as doubts lingered in the corners of her mind.
Even now, she wasn't sure what had prompted her quick response. Perhaps it was the look in her father's eyes, a rare vulnerability that spoke of the immense weight he carried. Whatever the reason, she had nodded, sealing her fate with a simple word.
"Yes."
Her heart had felt heavy that day, as though it were mourning a loss she couldn't yet name. Abigail had been the first to protest, her voice trembling with guilt and anger.
"No father, It should be me. I was the one they intended for the marriage, please father don't let my sister sacrifice for me. I don't..."
"No," Avery had interrupted, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning within. "This is what I want."
It had been a lie, of course. But it was a lie she had needed to tell, for Abigail's sake. She couldn't bear to see her sister consumed by guilt, nor could she let the burden of duty tarnish Abigail's light. And so, she had taken it upon herself.
Two days later, Queen Alice had summoned her. Her mother's chamber had always been a place of warmth and solace, but that day, it had felt different. There had been an air of finality to their conversation.
"Avery," her mother had said, her voice soft but firm, "if you are to marry into Everia, choose the crown prince. Becoming a queen is the only way you can secure your respect and safety in a foreign land."
Avery had nodded, though the thought of the crown prince, a man she had never met filled her with unease. Her mother's advice had been practical, born of years navigating the treacherous waters of court politics. But practicality offered little comfort.
In the weeks that followed, her siblings had rallied around her. Abigail, determined to make amends, had spent hours with her, reminiscing about their childhood and sharing laughter that felt both fragile and precious. Rowan, her eldest brother, had taken her on long rides through the countryside, their conversations meandering from politics to poetry.
Now, only three days remained before the princes of Everia would arrive. Three days before she would meet the man who would become her husband. The weight of it all pressed down on her as she sat in the stillness of her room, the silence amplifying every thought that flitted through her mind. She could hear the faint ticking of the clock on her mantel, each second a reminder of the inexorable approach of her future.
She closed her eyes, trying to imagine what her life would be like in Everia. A land she had only read about in books and heard about in courtly tales, its culture, its people, its very essence felt like a distant mystery. Would its people welcome her with open arms, or would their gazes linger on her with suspicion, branding her an outsider, a mere pawn in their king's elaborate game of politics? Would they scrutinize her every word and gesture, weighing her worth against the heavy scales of their expectations?
And what of her future husband? The man she would soon pledge herself to, for better or worse, for the sake of alliances and peace. Would he be kind and understanding, someone who saw her as more than the kingdom's offering? Or would his eyes betray indifference, viewing her as little more than a means to an end, a vessel for duty rather than a partner in life? She wondered if he had dreams and fears of his own, if he too felt the weight of the choices imposed upon them both.
The questions spiraled endlessly, each one carrying her further into the unknown. Everia was a blank canvas in her mind, but it was one she would soon have to paint with her own experiences, her own choices, her own sacrifices. She tried to picture the faces of the people she would meet, the vast halls of the palace she would call home, and the man whose name and title she would soon share. But the images remained elusive, as though the future itself refused to be unveiled until she stepped into it.
Her fingers brushed the delicate locket around her neck, a gift from Abigail on her last birthday. Inside was a small portrait of their family, painted years ago. She opened it now, her gaze lingering on the tiny figures. Her father, stern but proud. Her mother, regal and composed. Abigail, smiling radiantly. Rowan, ever the protector. And herself, caught between them, looking so much younger and carefree.
Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away. This was her choice. Her sacrifice. She would not falter now. Whatever lay ahead, she would face it with the same resolve that had brought her to this moment.
The night stretched on, the stars winking down at her as if in quiet reassurance. Somewhere in the distance, the faint hoot of an owl broke the silence. Avery exhaled slowly, the tension in her chest easing just a fraction.
Three days. She would cherish these last moments with her family, hold onto them like a lifeline. And when the time came, she would step into the unknown, carrying their love and strength with her.
For her family. For her kingdom. For herself.