Do I really have a choice?
The question echoed through my mind as I sat before the ornate dresser in my chambers, my reflection staring back at me with hollow, tired eyes. The kohl lining my lashes couldn't hide the dark circles,the silent witnesses of the agony I carried.
Everything about me screamed perfection. My long black hair was tied in a tight, graceful bun, adorned with an ivory flower pin that shimmered under the soft candlelight. My lips were painted a soft pink, matching the delicate blush swept across my cheeks. The crimson gown I wore clung to me like fate itself elegant, heavy, and inevitable. I looked beautiful. Flawless. Regal.
But inside, I was crumbling.
Any other girl would be ecstatic to be in my place today. A noblewoman, draped in luxury, marrying into royalty. But I wasn't any other girl, and this wasn't a fairytale. It was a sentence.
"Lady Lisa, you look beautiful," one of my maids whispered, her eyes gleaming with admiration. Another nodded enthusiastically. "He might just be kind," she added with a soft smile, as if those words could undo the chains tightening around my chest.
I forced a smile. They meant well. But they didn't understand.
Today marked the end of what little freedom I had. I was being married off to a vampire. A prince from a neighboring land known for its ruthless rule and bloodstained history. My father hadn't even asked for my consent. As soon as I turned eighteen, he saw me fit to be handed away like a gift he no longer needed to keep.
My fists tightened in my lap.
I was the fifth child and the only girl. All of my brothers were either married or promised, and just like them, I had no say in who my future would belong to. But at least theirs were humans.
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Lisa," my mother called softly, stepping into the room. She wore a gentle smile that faltered the moment her eyes met mine. She moved closer, brushing her hand against my cheek.
"My child is all grown," she murmured, her voice trembling with a sadness she dared not speak aloud.
"Mother..." I began, the word catching in my throat.
She didn't reply. She didn't need to. We both knew what I wanted to say. That this marriage was wrong. That I didn't want to go. That I was terrified.
But she had been through the same.
Her marriage had been arranged too. She had once told me that happiness could be found with time. That she had learned to love my father. But I knew better. I had seen her eyes when she thought no one was watching.
She wasn't happy.
She had just accepted her fate.
"I looked at myself in the mirror again and smiled. A facade. A lie."
I was supposed to feel joy today. Girls dreamed of weddings of white horses and silk veils, of dancing under moonlight with the man they loved. I had dreamed that too once. But today, I was marrying a man I had never met a man known for cruelty and silence.
A prince, yes. But not a dream. A nightmare cloaked in gold.
"It's time," my mother said quietly, stepping back. I rose from my seat slowly, each movement heavy with dread. The maids trailed behind me like shadows as we made our way to the grand staircase.
My heart was pounding.
As I stepped onto the top stair, my heel twisted slightly. I stumbled.
And just before I fell, a pair of strong arms caught me.
"Be careful, my lady," came a voice deep, smooth, with a hint of warmth I hadn't expected.
I looked up.
Eyes. Red as blood, dark as secrets. His face was ethereal, sculpted like the angels in the cathedral murals. Hair so blond it shimmered like gold under the chandelier light. My breath caught.
"Thank you," I whispered, barely audible. But somehow, he heard it.
He smiled. And it was beautiful. Subtle, restrained. A smile that felt rare almost forbidden. My heart betrayed me for a moment, fluttering like a bird set free.
What was I thinking? I was about to be married. I had no space for foolish fantasies.
"There she is," came my father's voice from below. He beamed with pride, offering his arm as if we hadn't argued about this very moment countless times.
"You look beautiful, my angel," he said, a rare compliment that felt more like a performance than affection.
I placed my hand on his arm, locking it with mine. "Let's go," he said.
And so, down the stairs I went toward a future that didn't belong to me.
At the bottom, seated in a high-backed chair, was the man who had just caught me.
My heart skipped.
He was... him.
The same man.
He was the prince. My soon-to-be husband. The ruthless vampire I had heard rumors of the one I had feared. But nothing in those stories prepared me for this.
He didn't smile again. Didn't even look at me. Cold. Distant. Like marble.
"Your Highness," I said with a perfect curtsy, every movement rehearsed for years under the watch of my governess.
He gave no reply.
I looked at my father, who motioned for me to take the seat beside him. I bowed my head once more and sat, keeping my spine straight and my hands in my lap.
The ceremony began.
The hall filled with nobles, music, whispers, and polished lies. And I... I still didn't even know his name.
The prince barely acknowledged me. His silence wrapped around me like a second corset tight, suffocating.
No family of his attended. No bridesmaids. No celebration from his side. Just silence.
And soon, we exchanged vows simple words binding our souls and futures in chains of duty. When it came time for the bride to perform, I stood.
It was tradition in our land a noblewoman was expected to display her worth through talent. I sat at the grand piano, the spotlight on me.
I played.
My fingers danced across the keys, delivering a silent sorrow woven into every note. The melody mourned the girl I used to be. The freedom I once knew. The love I had dreamed of.
The hall fell silent.
Eyes watched. Hearts listened.
But he my husband he did not move. No nod. No smile. His expression was a stone wall.
I finished.
And as I stood, I wondered if this was how the rest of my life would feel like applause meant nothing and beauty could not save me.
Because I was now bound to a prince.
A ruthless, silent prince with red eyes and no heart.