"I now pronounce you husband and wife."
The words, a death knell in a church filled with silent mourners, were the only sound that truly mattered. With them, my fate was sealed. I was no longer Princess Jackline of Asadavi. I was the wife of Christopher, Queen of Ravoy.
I found my parents in the crowd, their faces etched with a grief that mirrored my own. My father, the strong and unyielding King, looked at me with an apology written in every line of his face. My mother, the powerful Queen, no longer bothered to hide her tears. She sobbed openly, the sound a raw punctuation to my silent sorrow. I reached for their hands, squeezing them tightly.
"I'll be okay," I whispered, forcing a smile that felt brittle enough to shatter. Even as I said the words, I knew it was a lie, a final act of theatre before the curtain fell.
I hugged them, one last time, clinging to the familiar scent of my parents, of home. I didn't know when I would see them again. The knowledge was a physical weight on my chest, pressing the air from my lungs. I was going to a foreign kingdom, an enemy kingdom, and I would be all alone.
"Remember, everything is going to be alright," my mother repeated through her sobs, her voice a fragile anchor in my storm of fear. I could only nod, my throat too constricted for a reply. I had to accept my fate, and the sooner I did, the sooner I could start playing the part. A part I hoped would not be my last.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the Ravoy princesses whisper and giggle as Christopher passed them. Their eyes, filled with a brazen mix of envy and desire, followed his every move. They looked at me, the foreign girl in the red dress, with pity. How ironic. They envied my place in this gilded cage, not realizing it was a prison.
Outside, a majestic white carriage awaited. It looked like something from a storybook, with its intricate gold filigree, gleaming white horses, and plush velvet seats. It was the color of innocence and hope. It was a lie. As I walked toward it, the white and gold of the carriage seemed to mock the darkness gathering inside me.
Christopher helped me in, his touch cold and impersonal, a stark contrast to the driver's gentle smile. The door closed with a heavy thud, and the carriage lurched forward. Our journey to the Ravoy Kingdom had begun.
Christopher sat beside me, silent, unreadable. The only words he had spoken were "my princess," and even that had been a claim, not a term of endearment. His gaze was fixed on the road, his expression a mask of serious detachment. The air around him was still and heavy, radiating a dark aura that commanded respect and fear. I could feel it, a cold, oppressive presence that made the plush velvet of the seats feel like hard stone.
I wanted to speak, to break the suffocating silence, but my voice failed me. My throat was thick with unspoken grief and the monstrous weight of my new reality. How could I talk to a man who had stolen my life? I was a pawn in a game of power, a sacrifice to save my kingdom.
I pressed my face against the window, staring at the world flying by, and fought the hot, stinging tears threatening to fall. Why me? All I had ever wanted was a simple life, to marry for love, to live happily ever after. I had believed in the fairytales of Romeo and Juliet, believed that true love could conquer all. But this was my brutal, heartbreaking reality. The weight of my parents' faith settled on my shoulders, and I knew I couldn't let them down. But what if, in the process of saving them, I lost myself completely?