Alaria:
The corridor to the dining hall felt longer than it had the night before.
Every step echoed too loudly, every flicker of light from the chandeliers seemed to follow me like an accusation.
Bianca walked just ahead of me, her back straight, her voice soft and urgent.
“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t do something foolish tonight. I am begging you, for your own sake, for your daughter, do not provoke him.”
I said nothing. The gown she’d chosen for me, a soft blue, modest but unfamiliar, felt like a chain around my ribs.
She stopped before the door, her hand brushing my arm. “Alaria, listen to me.” Her tone was trembling now. “He’s unpredictable when he feels cornered. Don’t provoke him. Just eat, agree, let the night end quietly. It is going to be a lot easier that way. For everyo
