Octavia
“A ball?”
“A ball,” the queen repeated.
I stood in the doorway, staring at her. Her long blonde hair was elegantly styled, and she wore an emerald-green dress that clung perfectly to her figure, making her look almost ethereal. Her eyes met mine with determination, as though she weren’t speaking to a cold-blooded killer.
“I know your father never attended the Moon Ball, but Valerio does, and he expects you to be there,” she said, folding her hands neatly in front of her.
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be alarmed.
Is this some kind of joke? Why does the king even need me there? Then it hit me like a cannonball. That bastard.
“Am I his pretty little doll now?” I mocked, crossing my arms.
The queen looked genuinely confused.
“Don’t act like you don’t know why he wants me a
