The palace glows.
Gold drapery, soft music, measured smiles—everything is designed to look perfect. I stand beside Khalid at the center of it all, dressed in tradition and expectation, my hands folded neatly as if my heart isn't trying to escape my chest.
This is what silence looks like.
The hall is filled with dignitaries, council members, and foreign delegates. Fahad is nowhere near me—exactly as Khalid planned. He stands far back, almost hidden, nothing more than a business partner observing a royal moment.
Or so it appears.
I spot Khaleel first.
He stands near the left aisle, speaking quietly with Seth. Khaleel is known for his calm logic, his loyalty to the palace structure—but today his brows are furrowed, his attention fixed not on me, but on Khalid.
Something is wrong.
The ceremony begins.
The officiant speaks about unity, duty, legacy. I repeat the responses automatically, my voice steady while my thoughts fracture. Then movement ripples through the room.
Seth steps forward.
"Apologies," he says politely, raising a hand. "Before we proceed further, there seems to be a discrepancy in the engagement documentation."
A murmur spreads.
Khalid's hand tightens around mine. "This is not the time."
"It is," Seth replies calmly. "The council requires accuracy."
Khaleel nods in agreement. "The signature authorizations were altered last night."
My breath catches.
Khalid turns toward them, his smile still in place—but his eyes sharpen. "Altered how?"
Before anyone can answer, Riyaz clears his throat from the opposite side of the hall.
"There's also the matter of jurisdiction," he says evenly. "Certain clauses require the princess's explicit consent. Spoken. Not assumed."
All eyes turn to me.
My pulse roars in my ears.
"I gave my consent," I say automatically.
Riyaz meets my gaze—not accusing, not kind. "Respectfully, Princess, you gave no such statement in council."
Silence crashes down.
Then Loyopi speaks.
Quiet. Dangerous.
"There is also a concern," Loyopi says, "regarding external influence."
My heart stops.
Khalid releases my hand and steps forward. "This ceremony will continue."
But it doesn't.
Because eyes are no longer on him alone.
They are on me.
And then—movement again.
Fahad steps out of the shadows.
Not rushing. Not defiant. Just present.
"I apologize for the disruption," he says, voice steady. "But I was asked to confirm a timeline."
Khalid turns slowly. "By whom?"
"By the council," Fahad replies. "Regarding recent reassignment orders. Orders that appear designed to remove me from proximity rather than purpose."
The room hums with tension.
Khaleel looks between them. "Is there something we should be aware of?"
Khalid's control tightens visibly. "This is inappropriate."
Riyaz's gaze returns to me. "Princess, this ceremony requires truth to proceed."
My throat burns.
This is it.
Silence—or risk everything.
I look at Fahad. Just once.
He doesn't plead. He doesn't move.
He trusts me.
"I—" My voice trembles, then steadies. "I was not ready."
Gasps ripple through the hall.
Khalid turns sharply. "Ria."
"I was not ready," I repeat. "And readiness matters."
The officiant steps back. "Then the ceremony must be paused."
Paused.
Not cancelled.
But control has slipped.
Khalid's jaw tightens as he leans toward me, his voice low. "You've embarrassed us."
I meet his gaze, my heart pounding but unbroken. "You didn't give me space to choose."
The hall dissolves into whispers.
This engagement has cracked open.
And nothing—nothing—will fit back the same way again.