Three days later, the court assembled for what was meant to be a ceremonial re-pledging of the engagement—an event arranged by Darius to “show unity and resolve.”
Sophia arrived in white—not as a bride, but as a sovereign. No jewels. No fanfare. Only the crown pin she wore over her left shoulder, symbol of her birthright, not her bond.
The grand hall shimmered with expectation. Darius stood beneath the arched dais, regal and silent. Ethan had not been invited, but he had found his place among the outer ranks, standing quietly, arms behind his back.
Sophia climbed the steps. Slowly. Purposefully.
She turned not to Darius first—but to the court.
“I have stood here as a princess, a daughter, a bride-to-be,” she began. “And each time, I have spoken for duty. For peace. For legacy.”
Her v
