Esme – POV
The soldier wore a dark navy tunic, silver armor covering his hands and legs, with metal boots and gloves. Across his chest gleamed, the regal symbol of a lion—the mark of his country. He extended his hand to me. I hesitated for a breath, then placed mine in his. My fingers trembled as I stepped down from Baredon's carriage.
The cold wind sliced through my clothes, biting at my bones.
"Lady Esme Baredon," came a deep voice behind the soldier. I turned.
The man stood tall, broad-shouldered, with icy blue eyes and fair skin like fresh snow. His expression was unreadable.
"Yes... I am Esme," I stammered.
"I am King Liam Garrison. Welcome to my land," he said—flat, without warmth.
My breath caught. The weight of his presence made it hard to stand straight. His gaze brushed over me once, then moved away. That's when I noticed his silver royal cape draped behind him, marked with a lion. His black clothing was layered—grey trousers, a black shirt beneath a heavy warmer coat, high boots, and a thick fur mantle. He was already speaking to a nearby soldier in hushed commands.
One of them rushed to the Baredon carriage, retrieving my belongings and transferring them to a darker, sleeker royal carriage bearing King Liam's crest. Without a word, the Baredon carriage turned and left.
A soldier approached, offering me a white fur coat. I flinched slightly.
"Discard that coat and wear this," King Liam said. His voice carried the kind of authority that left no room for refusal.
I nodded quickly and obeyed, slipping out of the Baredon coat and putting on the one that matched his. It was heavier, warmer—and symbolic. His coat. His kingdom. His rules.
"Follow me, this way," he said.
He extended his hand again to help me into the carriage. I accepted it without meeting his eyes. My heart thudded in my chest. He sat across from me, his gaze sharp. I stared out the frosted window as the carriage pulled away.
"You're anxious. Why?" His voice broke the silence.
I turned toward him, meeting his cold stare briefly. His presence overwhelmed me, from his calm authority to his unyielding posture.
"I… I am not… anxious," I whispered.
"I don't like liars."
I swallowed hard and wrapped my hands around the edges of the coat.
"What gives me away?" I asked, my voice barely audible.
"Your stutter," he said plainly.
"That is… something I've had since birth," I murmured.
He said nothing. I glanced back up—he was still watching me, studying me like I was a puzzle.
"I never saw you in the royal courts of Westernland," he said eventually.
"I stayed in the estate to care for my father's health," I said—repeating the lie Father had instructed me to tell.
In truth, I had spent most of my life tending to my father's illness. The disease had no cure, and no one else would care for him. That was the truth. At times, he can't even walk. I used to help him.
"I wanted Merina to have the court life," I added softly.
He studied me, then looked out the window. I followed his gaze. The snowy peaks faded, replaced by quiet villages with snow-covered homes. People moved through the streets, wrapped in wool, smiling and laughing. Life continued here.
As we moved deeper into the city, warm lights glowed from windows, making the cold feel less cruel. It looked alive, thriving.
The carriage slowed, then stopped.
King Liam stepped out and extended his hand again. I took it, stepping down—but my foot slipped on the icy step. I gasped, but his strong arms caught me around the waist, steadying me.
"Careful," he said.
I nodded, keeping my eyes down as I found my footing. His hand remained on my back, a surprising source of warmth as we entered the palace. The staff inside, bowed low—maids, butlers, everyone.
"Your Majesty, I will escort Lady Esme to her chambers," said a maid.
He nodded and finally removed his hand. I followed the maid in silence.
The room she led me to took my breath away—pastel walls, a soft chandelier glowing above, a crackling fireplace, and luxurious bedding. In the wardrobe, dresses were stacked neatly, designed for cold weather.
"Lady Esme," the maid said as I turned.
"I am Head Housemaid Nedra. If you need anything, I will see to it personally," she said politely.
"No… everything is to my liking," I whispered. My fingers brushed the soft blanket. Was this really mine? It couldn't be. Nothing this beautiful came without a price.
"A seamstress will arrive in the morning to take your measurements," Nedra added. "Please rest, Lady Esme."
She left me alone. The fire warmed the room, easing the chill from my limbs. I showered, slipped into the fresh sheets, and fell into a restless sleep.
****
The Next Morning
The sound of soft footsteps woke me. Maids entered, followed by a woman in dark robes, wheeling in racks of white gowns. She carried measuring tape around her neck and a clipboard in her hand.
"I'm seamstress Natalie," she said warmly. "Let's get your measurements, Lady Esme."
I stood still as she worked.
"You've prepared the dresses in advance?" I asked, eyeing the ten wedding gowns behind her.
A silence fell in the room.
"Lady Esme…" she said hesitantly. "These dresses were made for the women who canceled their weddings with King Liam."
My breath caught. "Wha…t?"
"Don't worry. You won't be wearing these," she said quickly. "I'll make you a brand-new dress. These are just here in case you like any of the patterns."
Her laugh was nervous. The maids' heads were lowered, still and tense. Head Maid Nedra gave Natalie a cold, warning glance.
A chill climbed up my spine.
Were these the gowns of women who fled the king? Or were they… gone in some other way?
Merina's words echoed in my mind:
"King Liam is a crazy man who spares no one who dares to provoke his power."
I couldn't breathe. My vision blurred.
Am I going to die too?