Elara’s POV
Dani waited until night to speak.
The house was quiet again, the kind of quiet that pressed against the ears instead of soothing them. The sealed parchment lay open on the table between us, its edges curled from where he’d smoothed it too many times with his thumb. I stood by the hearth, arms folded, watching the fire snap and hiss.
“You know what this is,” he said finally.
“I know it’s royal,” I replied. “And I know it doesn’t belong here.”
He nodded once. “It’s an invitation.”
“You already said that.”
“To a masked ball,” Dani continued. “At the palace.”
I turned slowly. “A ball.”
“Yes.”
I laughed, sharp and incredulous. “You expect me to dance with nobles?”
“I expect you to attend,” he said. “Nothing more.”
“Why?” I demanded. “So they can stare at me like a curiosity?”
“So they can see you,” he replied quietly.
I scoffed. “I don’t need to be seen.”
“You do,” he said, and the urgency in his voice startled me. “Elara, please.”
I stepped closer to the table. “Explain.”
He took a breath. “The King is choosing a bride for his son.”
The words settled heavy in the air.
“That’s not my problem,” I said immediately.
“I know,” Dani replied. “But this is how things are done. The women are presented. Alliances are formed.”
“And you think I belong among them?” I snapped. “I don’t even own a silk dress.”
“You don’t need to be chosen,” he said quickly. “You only need to be seen. Enough that someone notices you. Enough that your future is secured.”
“My future,” I echoed. “You sound like you’re selling me.”
“I’m trying to save you,” he said hoarsely.
I looked at him then, really looked. His shoulders sagged like he carried stones instead of bone. Deep lines carved his face, grief and fear etched so deep they’d never leave. His hands trembled slightly as they rested on the table.
“You’re exhausted,” I said quietly.
“I can’t lose you,” he whispered.
The anger in my chest faltered. “You’re not losing me.”
“You will,” he said. “If you stay here. If you keep fighting the world alone.”
“I don’t want a husband,” I said. “I want a life.”
“And I want you alive to live it,” he replied.
Silence stretched.
I thought of Vivian, of her careful lessons, of the way she’d wanted me strong but also safe. I thought of the dreams I still carried, heavy and stubborn, and how tired Dani looked trying to hold everything together by himself.
“You’re asking me to walk into a cage,” I said.
“I’m asking you to walk into a room,” he replied. “With your head high.”
I closed my eyes.
“When?” I asked.
His breath hitched. “Tomorrow.”
I laughed weakly. “Of course it is.”
He reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “Just attend. Just be seen. Then you can come home.”
I swallowed. “This doesn’t change my mind about marriage.”
“I wouldn’t expect it to,” he said.
I nodded slowly. “Fine.”
Relief washed over his face so fast it hurt to see. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I said. “I’m doing this for you.”
He squeezed my hand once, then let go as if afraid to ask for more.
The knock came just after dawn.
I was halfway through packing the few things Dani insisted I bring when the sound echoed through the cottage. Dani opened the door, and a woman stepped inside with the confidence of someone used to crossing thresholds without permission.
She wore traveling clothes cut finer than anything I’d ever owned, her dark hair pulled back neatly, her eyes sharp and assessing.
“I am Serena,” she said. “Strategist to the King.”
Dani stiffened. “You came yourself.”
“Yes,” she replied, her gaze sliding to me. “This must be Elara.”
I straightened. “It must.”
A hint of a smile touched her mouth. “You’ll do.”
I blinked. “Do for what?”
“To survive the palace,” she said calmly. “We leave within the hour.”
My heart pounded. Dani glanced at me, fear and hope tangled in his expression. Whatever awaited me beyond this village, it had already begun.