𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 | 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐏'𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

I sit beside my father in the throne room, tapping my fingertips against the velvet arms of a throne that once belonged to my mother. The results of Ruslan's existence have been nothing short of catastrophic, and it has my father's hair turning grey from the amount of stress.

Meanwhile, as the duke of Bluteau reams my father out about the secrets of our family, Leighton hovers at the edge of the room with a pleased smirk on those thin-mangly lips, with Gareth leaning against the wall with arms crossed beside him. They both enjoy observing the slow, bitter destruction of our kingdom. Even I know that Leighton will try to ruin us from within before asking my father to hand over Lagulon to Adorid. By then, I'll be bound to him as his wife.

When the duke finally gives up his rant and excuses himself, my father turns his attention over to Lorcan, standing next to us as a guard.

"I shouldn't have to explain my private family life to the entire kingdom," my father rouses, "but these demands and questions threaten to tear us apart."

Lorcan nods. "I understand, but what you're giving them is only fractions of the truth. If they discover that Ruslan wasn't your true blood heir, they'll—"

My father raises a hand, silencing him. "They'll know what they need to satisfy them. Ruslan was my son, blood or not. I knew what I was getting into when I met him and Adirya."

Hell knew that one deceased prince could bring so much unrest to our once peaceful lands, but it's true, and it's always been true, that the people of Lagulon always preferred a prince to the princess. A damn patriarchy that my father attempts to banish.

Leighton and Gareth both approach my father and I on the throne. The slimy tendrils of unease leach inside of me. Leighton's presence sets me off, making my skin crawl. When Leighton's icy gaze meets mine, I only tip my head towards the archway where his underwear still hangs. It's been weeks, and I bet he's caught on that those will be there on the wedding day.

"Now that you've dealt with that," Leighton's lips curve into a hint of a smirk, "we need to discuss some of the wedding plans. We've been neglecting it, and the wedding is just two months away."

Two months. Has that much time already passed by? I lost a hold of it when Tobin was here, but it's been at least three weeks since he left. These days have been hollow, lifeless, and with the wedding day drifting closer, it's been dull. I meander through the courtyards during the day to distract myself, shooting arrows at targets and trees. Nothing seems to rid myself of the bitter pit growing inside of me.

Leighton continues. "I'm expecting a vast crowd here. I don't want this to be some small, intimate celebration. I'm sure Imogen feels the same."

I feel like throwing up, that's what.

Trembling, I force myself to rise from the throne, keeping my attention locked on Leighton and his slithering counterpart, Gareth. It baffles me that him and Tobin were such close friends, and it's that friendship that let Tobin agree to work alongside Leighton. All I can do is thank the bastard for keeping the romance between Tobin and I hushed.

But I'm afraid he'll let the truth slip when the right time arrives.

"I need some fresh air."

"Bailing on the wedding plans already?" Leighton's eyes spark. He knows just as well as everyone else in this room that I dread this betrothal. "I assumed you would enjoy planning the big day."