Esme's POV
"Lady Esme."
I knew that voice. My eyes fluttered open, and I froze. King Liam was standing right next to my bed, those icy blue eyes staring down at me.
I gasped and sat up quickly, the bedsheet clutched to my chest. "What… what happened?"
"You passed out," he said, his voice flat, like this was just any other day.
He looked... perfect. Of course he did. An all-white shirt, white blazer with golden cufflinks, and that royal cape. His black hair was swept back, not a strand out of place. I just stared for a second—he didn't even look tired.
"Are you alright?" he asked, but there was no real warmth behind it. Just a formality.
"I'm fine," I whispered. I wasn't, but what else could I say?
"Good. Get dressed, Lady Esme. People are waiting for the wedding ceremony."
My stomach turned. I hesitated, just for a second.
He noticed. "Is something wrong, Lady Esme?"
"No… Your Majesty," I said quietly. "I'll get ready."
He gave a short nod and walked out without another word. A few seconds later, the maids came in, followed by the seamstress.
"We're sorry, Lady Esme," one of them said, bowing her head.
I nodded, but the way they looked at me—it made something twist in my chest. They were treating me like royalty. But I wasn't. Not really. I was the illegitimate daughter of Duke Rathon. A commoner with a fake title and a borrowed crown. It felt wrong, like I was lying to everyone in this room.
"Please help me get ready for the ceremony," I whispered.
I chose a white gown with lace and a soft, ballroom shape. It had a sweetheart neckline—pretty, almost too pretty. The seamstress took it and muttered something under her breath, and then, just like that, magic sparked around it. I stepped back, heart racing.
"Lady Esme, it's alright," Natalie said gently. "It's just a spell to tailor the dress. Nothing harmful."
I gave her a small nod, though I wasn't sure I believed her. The dress shimmered faintly as it settled into its final form. Honestly, it was beautiful. Too beautiful.
The maids helped me into it—tightened the corset, did up the back. One of them pulled my pink hair into a neat bun while another brushed on soft makeup. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I didn't look like me. I looked like someone who belonged in a fairy tale. Someone royal. Someone I wasn't.
There was a knock at the door.
"Lady Esme, it's time," came a voice from the hall.
I gripped the bouquet a little too tightly. The door opened, and a tall man stepped in—blond hair, formal black uniform with a lion crest, calm face.
"Lady Esme," he said with a slight bow. "I'm Ethan Ashford. Advisor to King Liam and Duke of Ashford. I've been asked to escort you to the altar."
He held out his hand. I placed mine in his, fingers trembling just a little, and we walked.
The halls felt longer than they should. My heart wouldn't stop pounding. The ceremony room was full—nobles, royals, strangers all watching. At the altar, King Liam stood waiting. Cold. Still.
There was a veiled statue of a woman near the altar—it looked like the goddess they worshipped here. Luna Faye, if I remembered right.
"You must be nervous," Ethan said quietly.
I glanced at him.
He smiled, a little. "You're doing great."
His words calmed me just enough to keep walking. My feet felt heavy. Every step, heavier than the last.
When we reached the altar, King Liam took my hand. His grip was firm, steady. We turned to face the priest.
"Luna Faye, goddess of magic," the priest began, voice strong and full of ceremony. "Today, we witness the union of King Liam Garrison—sword and strength of Eastbrone—and Princess Esme Baredon of the Western Lands. Bless this couple and test their bond."
Wait. Test their bond?
I blinked, confused. What did he mean by that?
Then I felt it—magic, everywhere. It tingled in the air and made the hairs on my neck stand up.
"We'll be tested," Liam said, still not looking at me. "Before the bond is sealed. It'll be painful."
My stomach dropped.
"What kind of test—" I didn't get to finish.
The magic hit like a wave. I could barely breathe. It was hot—too hot. My skin felt like it was on fire. My lungs couldn't catch air.
Was this normal? Was this really a test or was I being punished for being a fraud?
My bouquet burst into flames in my hands. I cried out, but it was already gone. The fire didn't stop. It moved inside me. I wanted to scream. I think I did.
"Hold on," I heard Liam say.
I tried. I really did. But I couldn't. My legs gave out and everything blurred. I would've fallen, but someone caught me.
Liam.
His arms held me up, strong and steady. Through the dizziness, I looked up at him. Everything around us was spinning, freezing, burning.
"Don't sleep," he said. "Please."
That word—please—it hit different. It wasn't cold like everything else about him. It sounded… real. Almost like he cared.
"The fate is sealed," the priest declared. "King Liam is now wed to Queen Esme."
Somehow, I was still awake. Barely. My thoughts were a mess. My body was on fire.
How the hell did this happen?
"You can sleep now," Liam whispered, softer this time.
I didn't fight it anymore. I let the exhaustion pull me under, into darkness.