A Messy Royal Wedding (1)
The princess sat frozen in her seat, letting the maids fuss over her hair and face. Her stomach twisted into tight knots, and her heart pounded so loudly it was all she could hear. Every breath she took felt shallow. She tried not to panic, but it was nearly impossible. This wasn’t just another day — it was her wedding day.
When the maids were finally done with her makeup and hair, they curtsied and left, leaving Madam Grace and Paulina to help her into her wedding gown. They walked in with delicate jewelry and a flowing gown that shimmered like moonlight. The gems sparkled so brightly they could blind a person — but today, she couldn’t care less. Normally, she would have gasped in awe at the royal beauty of the ensemble, but all she felt was dread.
“You still remember everything I’ve taught you, right?” Madam Grace asked as she adjusted the tiara atop Amber’s smooth black updo.
Amber had no clue what the older woman meant. Her memory of the past few weeks was still foggy — a strange side effect of her accident. But she nodded anyway. Madam Grace looked like she might faint from anxiety herself. Everyone in the room seemed to be walking on glass, afraid of making a single mistake. And for good reason — in this palace, mistakes came with severe punishments.
“My Lady,” Paulina whispered, gently holding Amber’s sweaty hand, “don’t worry. Everything will be fine. The King said I can follow you if your husband allows it. I really hope he says yes.”
Amber didn’t respond. Her eyes were locked on the mirror in front of her. The girl staring back didn’t feel like her — not anymore. The heavy layers of makeup, the glistening jewels, and the haunting fear behind her eyes made her seem like a stranger. She didn’t feel like a bride. She felt like a sacrifice.
“You should breathe,” Madam Grace murmured, inspecting her pale face with a frown. “You look so pale, I’m afraid you might collapse before the ceremony even starts.”
Amber took a deep, shaky breath and pinched her cheeks in a desperate attempt to appear alive. It didn’t help. The sinking feeling in her gut only worsened. She felt sick. Sick from fear, from helplessness, from the reality that she was being led into a life she didn’t choose.
A knock on the door made them all turn. One of the other princesses peeked in, smirking with a voice dripping in sarcasm, “It’s time for your wedding, Princess Amber.”
Princess Amber. That name still felt foreign. She stood up on shaky legs, nearly toppling over. Paulina and Madam Grace caught her quickly and helped her stay upright.
She forced a small smile and tried to walk. This is real, she told herself. This is really happening.
She was being married off to a man she had never met. A man known not for kindness or honor — but for his ruthlessness.
Whispers said he had a heart of stone. That he had crushed rebellions without mercy, banished his own blood relatives without blinking, and that even his own guards feared him. Not because of some mythical curse — but because he didn’t tolerate weakness. He didn’t forgive mistakes. And now… he was going to be her husband.
No one told her much about him, but what she had heard from Paulina was enough to make her want to flee the palace. “He doesn’t smile,” Paulina had whispered one night. “And he never forgets a slight.”
None of the other princesses had wanted him — not even as a prince. His presence was like a shadow over the royal court. So cold. So commanding. So… dangerous.
And yet here she was. The one chosen. Or rather, the one offered.
Amber had once wondered what kind of father would offer his daughter to a man like that. But the answer was simple: one who cared more about power than her happiness. The alliance with his kingdom meant protection. Strength. Political leverage. Her marriage would serve as a shield for their throne.
Her life was a bargain.
How could she possibly live with a man like that? What if he hated her? What if she made one wrong move and he turned on her?
She closed her eyes for a second and swallowed her fear. Maybe he’ll ignore me. Maybe I’ll just be invisible in the palace. Maybe that’s the best I can hope for.
She took another step forward, her heart screaming with every movement. Her feet felt like they were made of iron. She wanted to scream. To run. To vanish. But instead, she lifted her chin high and walked like a bride — a trembling, terrified bride.
They reached the wedding hall. She paused outside the door, trembling. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
Madam Grace gave her a tight smile and gestured for her to enter. Amber looked back once more at the women beside her — her only comfort in this cold new world — then turned toward the door.
This was it.
The beginning of something she couldn’t undo.
A wedding that felt more like a sentence.
