~Storme~
The next day, Grace prepared me for the introductory dinner which the king had called for Theo’s fated mate.
Even as Grace helped me with my clothes, hair, and makeup, I still felt uneasy. There was this tightness in my chest, almost as if my windpipe had been blocked. Air could hardly penetrate, and before I knew it, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I clutched my chest, bending over and gasping for breath. A shaky breath left my lips, and I began to feel the beginning of a sob bubbling in my throat.
“Your Highness,” Grace asked, concern etched on her forehead, “are you alright? You suddenly look pale.”
What was this feeling?
Why did I feel like I was about to lose something extremely dear to me?
‘You know you could always let him know that you don’t want to see him with any oth
