VIOLET’S POV
The silk of my wedding gown clung to me like a second skin, smooth, heavy, sparkling faintly in the bright, over-lit room.
Each bead and every stitch screamed wealth, power, and royalty.
But my mind wasn’t on any of it.
Not the gown.
Not the jewels.
Not the veil being carefully lowered over my hair.
My thoughts were trapped in the dungeon, with Zoella.
Locked up.
Maybe starving.
Maybe screaming.
Maybe… dying.
Why did Merrin insist on death for her? Hanging. For what?
She had jumped fences. She had stolen a maid’s clothes. That was all. And still… he had chosen death for her.
I swallowed hard.
I would do anything for her… any punishment, any humiliation, even death, if that's only what would set her free.
But if truly, Merrin truly intended to hang me in my sis
