Selene's room was a flurry of movement as maids bustled around, their hands working with practiced precision. Some fixed her makeup, others adorned the elaborate dress still hanging on a mannequin, making final adjustments.
A few tended to her hair, curling and pinning each strand to perfection. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and the hushed murmurs of attendants ensuring everything was flawless.
"Miss, what shoes will you wear?" one maid asked, holding up two pairs of shoes in her hands.
One pair was an extravagant set of diamond-adorned stilettos, gleaming under the candlelight. The other, a glossy silver platforms with delicate straps.
Selene barely glanced at them. Instead, she asked, "How about just a pair of plain flip-flops?"
Silence.
Every maid in the room froze, eyes darting to one another in disbelief. A few exchanged nervous glances, their hands hesitating mid-task.
"I said," she cleared her throat, her tone firmer this time, "a pair of flip-flops, please."
One of the maids swallowed hard. She could feel trouble brewing like a storm on the horizon.
Another maid, eager to change the subject, stepped forward and bowed slightly. "Young Miss, your dress is ready."
Selene turned her gaze to the dress. It was breathtaking—a white gown adorned with silver and gold threads, intricate floral designs woven into the sheer fabric that draped over the neck and hands.
Even from where she stood, untouched on the mannequin, it looked as though it belonged to a goddess.It hung untouched on the mannequin, waiting for her to step into it, waiting to transform her into the perfect vision of elegance.
But Selene barely reacted. She looked away and muttered, "I'm fine just as I am."
The maids hesitated. They didn't dare question her, but their stolen glances at one another spoke volumes.
She wasn't in any elegant dress. Instead, she sat in the middle of the grand room wearing a simple white pajama set, decorated with colorful bunny faces—completely at odds with the regal gown awaiting her.
Then, the doors to the room swung open with force.
The chief butler, a woman of rigid discipline and unwavering devotion, stepped in, her eyes widening at the sight before her. She clutched her chest as if she'd been struck.
"Oh my God, you are not ready!" she gasped, horror lacing every syllable.
Selene smirked, turning to face her with an air of defiance. "I am ready, Cherry," she said, her voice slow and deliberate.
She met the butler's disbelieving gaze, her own eyes filled with something unreadable—mischief, defiance, or perhaps something deeper. Then, with a final, knowing breath, she whispered, "I am so ready."
Cherry placed a gentle yet firm hand on Selene's shoulder, her voice laced with a forced softness.
"I know it's painful," she said, her eyes filled with something between sympathy and duty. "But this is your special moment. Your life is about to change forever—you should at least try to enjoy it."
Selene let out a hollow laugh, her lips twisting into a bitter smirk. "Yeah, I should really enjoy being a bargaining chip. A mistress. A pawn in someone else's game." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "I have never been so happy in my life."
Cherry sighed, but before she could say another word, the doors burst open.
Blaze stormed in, seething. "God! Your brother is a friggin' maniac! A total jerk, a forsaken fool, a—" She cut herself off, suddenly aware of the wide-eyed maids staring at her as if she were a giraffe in a miniskirt.
"What?! Mind your damn business, y'all!" she snapped, glaring at them.
Selene, unbothered, waved a dismissive hand. "Leave us."
The maids hesitated, then, like trained soldiers, filed out in eerie synchronization. As the last one disappeared behind the doors, Blaze collapsed onto the sofa, exhaling sharply.
Selene leaned forward, her brows furrowed. "Did he…?" Her voice wavered slightly before she forced out the words. "Did he r*pe you?"
Blaze shot her a look before rolling her eyes dramatically. "Yikes, no! He made me dance for him."
Selene blinked, then, out of nowhere, burst into laughter. A full-blown fit of uncontrollable giggles. Despite everything—despite the weight crushing her chest, the cage tightening around her life—she laughed until her sides ached.
Blaze huffed. "Glad my suffering is so amusing to you."
Selene wiped a tear from her eye, finally catching her breath. But Blaze wasn't done. She gestured toward the wedding dress displayed grandly on the mannequin, her expression twisting into a mix of awe and horror.
"Is that how you're dressing?" she asked, incredulous.
Selene followed her gaze, her smile fading as she studied the pristine gown. It was perfect. Too perfect. A cruel symbol of the farce she was about to walk into.
Blaze crossed her arms, her voice dropping to a warning tone. "I hope you're not actually planning on wearing it, because if you do, that guy won't think twice about taking you with him."
Selene tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Oh, please," she said. "I didn't forget what we planned." She ticked off each point on her fingers with exaggerated flair. "Look your worst. Talk to yourself. Faint at the altar. Behave like a complete disaster in front of his family and friends."
Blaze grinned, her smirk laced with mischief. "That's my girl."
"And what exactly will you be doing?" Selene asked, eyeing Blaze as she helped herself to a bowl of chopped fruit.
Blaze let out a low chuckle. "I'll serve the worst cake and stir up a little drama."
Selene raised an eyebrow. "That's it?
Blaze gave her a knowing grin. "I had this brilliant idea last night. You know that moment when you're just about to fall asleep and then—boom—something genius hits you?"
"Cut to the chase, Blaze," Selene said, rolling her eyes.
Blaze leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I slip a sleeping potion into whatever they're drinking—water, juice, doesn't matter. They drink it, and bam, they're out cold."
Selene smirked. "Why not just use a killing potion? That'd save us a lot of trouble."
Blaze shook her head. "Nah. I'm not dealing with that kind of mess. Not unless I'm getting paid well for it. And if I did, you'd definitely be the one taking the fall for it everyone will assume you did it to escape the forced marriage."
She leans back to the sofa. "Plus, it's a wedding. What if your mother shows up and drinks it? I'm pretty sure you'd kill me yourself at that point."
Selene shrugged. "Alright, alright, sleeping potion it is. But let's make sure it knocks them out long enough to forget the whole wedding. Then I'll take my mother, grab some valuables, and make a clean getaway."
Blaze giggled. "I like the way you think. Why don't you just do that? Take your mother and run."
"Because George made sure to double down on our security—mine and my mom's. No running away without him knowing about it." Selene said disappointed.
Blaze huffed in frustration. "Well, that's just great."
Blaze popped the last slice of orange in her mouth. "Don't worry, we'll figure something out. We always do.