The palace buzzed with noise—tailors rushing, maids whispering, officials bowing as they passed. Word of the Crown Prince’s engagement traveled faster than wildfire. And yet, in the center of this storm, Evelyn felt nothing but cold dread curling deep in her chest.

She stood in the grand hall of the Palace Atelier, layered fabrics draped around her as seamstresses fluttered nervously.

“Raise your chin, Lady Evelyn,” the chief tailor instructed gently.

Evelyn obeyed, though her thoughts were galaxies away. The room felt suffocating. The shimmering engagement gown—gold-threaded silk meant to symbolize unity and loyalty—felt like chains tightening around her ribs.

Chains placed by Cassian.

She wondered if her father would recognize her now.

She wondered if her brother was even alive to see this.

But most of all…

She wondered how it might have felt to wear a wedding gown for someone she chose.

A flash of emerald eyes burned in her mind.

Her breath stuttered.

She clenched her hands hard enough for her nails to bite her skin.

No. Duty. Family. Survive.

She repeated it like a chant. A curse.

-----

Meanwhile, Deep in the Western Woods…

Rain drummed through thick leaves as a young man’s breath trembled, white fog forming in the cold air.

Leon Brighton pressed a hand against his wounded side, gritting his teeth as he stumbled beside a moss-covered rock. His clothes were torn, blood dried black along his ribs. But he was alive. Barely.

He sank to the ground, clutching a bloodied insignia he had torn from an enemy uniform.

“Cassian… you little…”

Lightning cracked, illuminating his bruised face.

He remembered the night vividly—the torches, the soldiers storming the tunnels, the command to kill everyone inside. His own capture. The escape he made in the chaos when their communication shattered.

He’d been running for days.

But he would return.

Even if he had to crawl back home.

Lightning flashed again, and in its glow, a pair of unfamiliar eyes watched him from the shadows of the forest.

Leon felt the presence. “…Who’s there?"

But only the rain answered.

----

Back in the Palace — 

Evelyn stood alone in the audience chamber, the faint scent of incense filling the air. The grand double doors opened and Cassian strode inside, every step precise, calculated. His smile was sharp enough to cut.

“Lady Evelyn,” he greeted smoothly, as if he hadn't torn her world to pieces. “The court is delighted with our upcoming union.”

She bowed. “Your Highness.”

Cassian walked closer, lifting a strand of her hair between his fingers. His touch was cold.

“You’ll look beautiful during the ceremony,” he murmured. “I expect nothing less from Aurora Vale’s Middlemist’s Red.”

Evelyn forced herself not to step back.

Not to tremble.

Not to break.

“This engagement will ensure the safety of your family,” he continued. “As long as you remain obedient.”

Evelyn felt something inside her crack.

But she smiled—barely.

“I will do my duty.”

Cassian’s eyes glinted with triumph.

After leaving the audience chamber, Evelyn walked quickly, eager to escape the suffocating palace air.

But as she rounded a corner—

She collided with a firm chest.

A hand caught her waist before she could fall.

“I’m sorry—” she gasped, then froze.

Green eyes. Kayden Ashenbert.

He looked tired, shadows beneath his eyes, but when he saw her…

His expression softened.

Then hardened into something guarded.

“My lady,” he said quietly, releasing her. “Are you alright?”

Evelyn stepped back, heart hammering. “Y-yes. I’m fine.”

But her voice betrayed her.

Kayden’s gaze lowered to the faint tremble in her hand.

“You’re lying,” he murmured.

“I’m not,” she whispered.

“You are.”

His voice was gentle, but laced with frustration. “You don’t have to carry everything alone.”

She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I made my decision.”

“Yes,” he replied bitterly. “You made it very clear.”

Her chest constricted.

He bowed slightly. “Excuse me, Lady Evelyn.”

He turned to walk past her—

Her fingers grabbed his sleeve before she could stop herself.

Kayden froze.

Evelyn’s voice trembled.

“I… didn’t expect you to be the notorious Marquess. If I’d known that night at the ball… maybe I would've never asked you to dance.”

Kayden turned, eyes darkening. “And why is that?”

“Because…” Words choked her.

“Because then I would’ve known exactly how dangerous it was to fall for you.”

Kayden inhaled sharply.

But she released his sleeve before he could respond.

Her voice steadied into something resolute.

“I cannot burden you any more than I already have. I know the promise you made with my father. ”

Then she stepped away.

Kayden didn’t let her walk away this time.

“My lady,” he said quietly.

She froze.

He took a step closer—slowly, carefully—as if approaching a wounded creature afraid to be touched. His voice lowered to something she had never heard from him before. Something tender.

“You think you are Middlemist’s Red because that is what everyone calls you.”

He paused, eyes drifting over her face with an aching softness.

“But they’re wrong.”

Evelyn blinked, startled. “What…?”

Kayden exhaled, a bittersweet smile forming.

“You aren’t a Middlemist’s Red—bold, showy, adored because you dazzle under the sun.”

He shook his head.

“You’re a bluebell.” He smiled gently, a bitter sad smile.

“A… bluebell?” she repeated, confused.

Kayden nodded.

“A quiet bloom that grows in hidden places. Gentle. Resilient. Overlooked by those too blind to see its strength.”

His eyes softened further.

“And the kind of flower people only truly appreciate when they get close enough to understand it.”

Evelyn felt her breath catch, her chest tightening painfully.

Kayden continued, voice barely above a whisper:

“You think you shine because the world demands it. But the truth is… your gentleness—your heart—is the thing that makes you unforgettable.”

Evelyn looked away, her throat burning. “You shouldn’t say such things to someone who belongs to another.”

“But you don’t belong to him,” Kayden replied, the slightest tremor breaking through his composure. “You’re only choosing him because the world has forced your hand. I can still help you. I want to. Because maybe...I have a feeling that there is a certain feeling blooming in my heart which I dare not accept, My Lady..”

Silence fell between them.

The kind of silence that trembles with everything unsaid.

He walked away before she could answer—

before she could break.

And Evelyn stood in the corridor, breath shaking, heart fractured by a truth she had no power to claim.

The palace bells tolled again.

Three days until the engagement ceremony.

Three days until Evelyn locked herself into a cage of gold.

Three days until the Crown Prince claimed her.

She watched the moon from her window, fingers curling around the fabric of her sleeve.

Her heart whispered Kayden’s name.

Her duty whispered Crown Prince Cassian.

The storm was coming.

And Evelyn stood in its very center.