The palace windows had been scrubbed clean, their glass polished until the insides gleamed. From the outside, one could see the flicker of candlelight and the shadows of nobles moving within. Inside, Queen Isabelle's gaze finally settled on Colden.
He sat stiffly, his hands trembling ever so slightly as she reached across the table and clasped them.
"I know it has been hard since your father left us," she said, her voice smooth but heavy with finality. "But we must face the truth. He is gone. Dead. And Windmere needs someone to lead. A king, perhaps. And that role is yours to fill."
Colden swallowed, his voice timid. "Couldn't we wait a little longer? Perhaps next year, when things are calmer?"
Isabelle's expression shifted instantly. Her tone sharpened, her words striking like a whip. "No. It is time now! Your older brothers will arrive for the coronation, and you would not dare let them down, would you?" Her face twisted, almost devilish, as she leaned closer.
Colden's heart sank. He had always wanted his brothers to like him, to see him as worthy, but every attempt had ended in disappointment.
Isabelle pressed on, her words cruel. "You have already upset them enough with the Viremont melodrama. That worthless daughter—are you joking?"
Suddenly, Carmine jerked the table. A goblet of red wine toppled, spilling across Isabelle's lap. She shot up, her voice furious. "Who did this?"
Carmine's eyes flickered with mischief as she replied smoothly, "Oh, well, Emily was just fixing her dress."
Isabelle turned sharply. "Emily, you salvage bitch! Go to your room and think about what you've done. I am sure Harry would never have let you behave like this."
At the mention of Harry, Carmine's thoughts froze. Harry… and wouldn't let you? The name lingered in her mind, twisting into questions she dared not voice.
Isabelle, unbothered by the tension she had created, continued with a chilling smile. "And one more thing. A new lady will be arriving soon. You should be glad, Colden, that your mother has found you a fabulous bride. She will be here in three days."
The words hung in the air like a blade. Colden's chest tightened, Carmine's mind raced, and the dinner concluded under a silence that felt heavier than the snow outside.
To be continued…