Three Months Before Wedding.

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Amelia stared at the ornate royal crest emzoned on the heavy cream envelope that had just been delivered to her grandfather’s estate. Though she had been expecting it, the transition from waiting to holding the proof of her future felt like a punch to the chest, seeing the physical manifestation of her future made her stomach twist into knots.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” her grandfather, Edward Falconi, asked from his position at the head of the breakfast table.

Amelia’s fingers trembled a lot as she broke the wax seal. “I already know what it says, Grandfather.”

“Formalities matter, my dear.” His voice was gentle but firm, the same tone he had used throughout her life when guiding her toward what he believed was best. “Especially with the royal family of Wystovia. You might want to keep that for your children.”

She unfolded the thick paper, her dark eyes scanning the elegant script. The words blurred together, but their meaning was crystal clear: her engagement to Prince Niko of Wystovia was officially announced, with the wedding to take ce in three months‘ time.

“Well?” Her grandfather prompted, though the satisfied gleam in his eyes told her he already knew the!--

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“The date is set,” she confirmed, carefully refolding the letter. “May 18th.”

Lord Falconi nodded approvingly. “Perfect. Late spring in Wystovia is lovely. The royal gardens will be in full bloom.”

Amelia took a sip of her now–cold tea, using the moment topose herself. At twenty–two, she had always known marriage would be expected of her, particrly given her family’s noble line. A well–known family of Wystovia. But to be married off to a prince she had never met, of a country she had only visited once a year for a few weeks… the reality of it all was finally setting in.

“Grandfather, I—”

“This union is a really good match Amelia and I worked hard to secure it for you,” he interrupted, his voice softening. “Your parents will be so proud, Amelia. Your mother especially understood the importance of such an alliance. Even if she didn’t have that herself.”

The mention of her parents, who were traveling the world on a cruise and wouldn’t be back until just before the wedding, still created an ache in her chest. Her mother had married for love, despite her own noble obligations. Why had she approved Amelia marrying for duty? When she had chosen a different path.

Amelia said carefully. “But I know nothing about Prince Niko beyond his official biography. How can I possibly build a life with someone I’ve never even spoken to?”

Lord Falconi set down his coffee cup. “King Theodore and I have been friends for forty years. I would not send you into an unsuitable match, regardless of the advantage. I have known prince Niko since he was a small boy.”

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“And what of Prince Niko’s thoughts on this arrangement?” she asked. “Is he equally enthusiastic about marrying a stranger?” It was all well and good her grandfather knowing him, but it would be nice to know him

herself.

Her grandfather’s expression remained impassive. “Prince Niko understands his duty to his country. At thirty- four, he is well past the age when most royal heirs have secured their session.”

And there it was… the true purpose of this union. Not love, notpanionship, but the production of an heir to the Wystovian throne.

“I see,” Amelia replied, her voice cooler than she intended. “So, I’m to be a royal broodmare.” God, she was only twenty–two was she really ready to have a baby. She loved kids but she didn’t know if she was ok with falling straight away.

“Amelia!” Her grandfather’s shock was genuine. In all her years of perfect behavior andpliance, she had never spoken so boldly. “That is beneath you. The union between Wystovia and our family brings tremendous advantages to both sides. You will be a princess, and eventually, possibly queen if circumstances change.”

Amelia set the letter down, suddenly feeling the weight of the royal crest pressing down on her future. “Forgive me, Grandfather. I’m just… I’m stilling to terms with the fact I need to marry a stranger.”

His expression softened. “I understand this is a significant change. But you’ve been prepared for this role half your life. Your education, your training, yournguage studies, all of it has led to this moment. This isn’t new to you.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Since her grandfather had ensured she received the finest education befitting a wife of any royal. She spoke fivenguages fluently, understood the intricacies of international rtions, and could navigate the mostplex social situations with grace. She was, as her etiquette instructor had once noted, “perfectly designed for royal life.” She hoped she wouldn’t be expected to be a Stepford wife.

The one thing no one could do for her was make her love Prince Niko. She was prepared for a loveless marriage. Hated the thought but prepared.

“When will I meet him?” she asked, returning to practical matters.

“Prince Niko is in America with his brother Prince Alexei. So, I would say on his return.”

One Week Before Wedding

The following weeks passed in a blur of preparations. Amelia’s measurements were taken for her wedding gown, royal protocol instructors arrived from Wystovia to refine her courtly manners, and countless discussions about the ceremony filled her days. Yet beneath the flurry of activity, a hollow feeling grew in her chest. The instructors made her feel ill–prepared. What was she doing?

At night, when the house fell quiet, Amelia would stand at her bedroom window overlooking the vast grounds of her grandfather’s estate. The same gardens where she had yed as a child now seemed like the borders of a gilded cage. Beyond themy a world she had barely experienced, adventures untaken, choices unmade. She hadn’t lived life in any real sense. She had been kept a virgin to make sure she went to Niko pure. Anyone would think she was living in the wrong century.

“Would it be so terrible,” she whispered to herself one evening, tracing raindrops on the windowpane, “to

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simply disappear?”

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The thought had been recurring with increasing frequency. She could pack a small bag, take the emergency cash she’d always kept hidden in one of her socks, and vanish before dawn. She could see Paris not as the future wife of a prince but as an anonymous young woman. She might even find work somewhere….maybe teachingnguages and build a life of her own choosing. She was sure Niko could find another bride very easily. He hadn’t even met her yet and it was a week before the wedding.

But each time the fantasy took shape, her grandfather’s face would appear in her mind. His pride when the engagement was finalized. His failing health that he tried so hard to hide from her. The promise he had made to her mother before she left on her extended cruise, that he would ensure Amelia’s future was secure. Her parents would be here tomorrow. Then there would be even less chance of escaping. The pressure to do the right thing would be impossible.

She pressed her forehead against the cool ss. Running away would break her father and parents. After everything her grandfather had done for her whole childhood she couldn’t let him down, she couldn’t repay him with such betrayal.

And then there was the matter of her mother, who had set her heart on this match. Her mother who had married for love but now seemed to believe duty was Amelia’s best path. Amelia kept circling the thought: her mother had married for love, but Amelia was expected to marry for duty.

“You’re trapped either way,” Amelia murmured to her reflection in the darkened window. “By duty if you stay, by guilt if you leave.” It would kill her grandfather, and her mother would never forgive her. Oh, why couldn’t Prince Niko have rejected her. Because even if they met now and he didn’t really want to marry her, it would be toote for him to cancel the wedding.

She turned away from the window and caught sight of the royal crest of Wystovia adorning one of the many preparation documents on her desk which included a photo of her future husband. Prince Niko’s face stared back at her from a formal photograph handsome in a severe way, his dark eyes revealing nothing of the man

behind them.

“I hope you’re as trapped as I am,” she whispered to his image. “At least then we’d have something in

She also hoped he was kind. She had never experienced cruelty from any man before and she didn’t think she could live the rest of her life with a bastard.

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