The maids stepped aside and Rosalind was escorted out of her chamber.
As she crossed the threshold, she realized she had not left the room in what felt like forever. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest while she was led through the familiar corridors, and her fingers tightened around the bouquet until she nearly crushed the flowers.
Soon she would be married to the man she despised most, and despite everything, she continued to hope. Hope was all she had left, and so she clung to it desperately.
Eventually, the doors to the ceremonial hall were opened for her.
She was to walk down the aisle alone.
Every gaze immediately turned toward her, making her stomach churn just as she took her first step forward.
The nobles looked at her with narrowed eyes, and before long the whispering began again.
Rosalind wondered if these people ever stopped talking.
They always seemed to have something to say, and their gazes felt more judgmental than admiring.
