THE FACELESS PRINCE

AVA’S POV I stood at the back of the church, surrounded by strangers with fake smiles. The air was thick with incense and roses, making it hard to breathe. As I walked down the aisle, my eyes fixed on the man I was about to marry - a prince in a tailored sleek black and white suit. But when he turned around, I was horrified. His face was completely blank, no eyes, no dramatic nose, or inviting lips. Just smooth unblemished skin. I felt a chill run down my spine. How could I be exchanging vows with a faceless being? All my life, I've always dreamt of finding love with someone whose eyes sparkled with joy, someone who made my heart happy. But now I was trapped in a terrifying reality. What had gone so wrong? I was paralyzed, unable to move or speak. He led me through the ceremony, and through the walkway, and then he spoke to me. His voice was very low and melodious, it kept ringing in my ears, but his words were a blur. I couldn’t process what he said. The priest's voice snapped me back to reality: "I now pronounce you husband and wife." Transfixed, as the faceless prince stretched out his hands, enveloping mine in an icy firm grip as he pulled me closer. Reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I, Ava Black, was getting married. With no familiar faces around, no relatives, no friends. I began to wonder how I ended up surrendering myself to this eerie union. My eyes shifted to my dress_ a flowing white dress with my hair pouring onto it. My skin glittering under the chandeliers, it was a perfect match for the dress. Among all, it was beautiful. Exactly everything I had imagined. My thoughts were short-lived when I felt His breath a few inches away from my face, so hot and steady as he drew me into a kiss. I could feel his lips, luscious and soft, but I couldn’t see them. I reached for his hair, pulling him away from me, but he held onto me tighter than before. Suddenly, we were standing on a moonlit beach, the sea waves wavering around us. His grip on my hand tightened as he pulled me into the icy water. “Forever and ever, till death makes us part” he whispered, his voice laced with coldness and malice. I panicked, struggling to break free, but his grip was relentless. Water flooded my lungs as I sank. The more I screamed, the more water I drank. My last memory was the prince’s blank face twisting into a cruel smile, feasting on my terror. Satisfied. I jolted awake, gasping for air with my heart racing like I was being chased by a wild animal. Sweat drenched my whole body and my sheets. My pillow was soaked with tears. I searched around for the image, but he was nowhere in sight. ———————- I sat up, with my chest still heaving as I struggled to calm my racing heart. The dream still playing on my mind, the faceless prince's grip feeling all too real. I rubbed my sweaty palms against the silk sheets, trying to shake off the unease. I looked around, taking in the lavish surroundings; the huge bed, the rich velvet curtains and the carved furniture confirmed my new reality. This was my first night in the Royal House of Aldovia. I threw off the covers and stepped out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the cold floor. I moved towards the windows, pulling back the curtains to look out at the moon-lit garden below. Life has spun utterly out of control. Just yesterday I graduated and was working part-time at a small bakery in the smallest town, Willowdale. My life was so simple and predictable. Everything changed when I received an unexpected letter bearing the crest of the Royal Family of Aldovia. Its contents shattered my heart like a glass dropped on a stone. My deceased father had pledged me as a collateral for a loan to the royal family. I mean, I knew my father had a relationship with the royal family, but I had no idea he could do something like that. I felt like a pawn in the game of chess, moved without consent or knowledge. My soul boiled with anger, longing to be directed at my father, but he was no longer alive to face my wrath. Tears rolled at the corners of my eyes as I thought of his betrayal. No one dares disobey the Royal house. Not even me. Who is just an Orphan? However, King Thomas, offered me a privilege: which was the chance to choose my husband from among his three sons. This gesture softened the blow, but only slightly. For six months, I would reside in Everton Manor, the home specially designed for the princes, to get to know each prince. Afterward, I would select the one I wished to marry. The thought of it made me tremble. Now, standing at the window of my opulent bedroom, doubts began creeping in. The haunting smile of the faceless prince still lingers on my mind. Could this be my fate, flashing before my eyes?