The cold seeped through the fabric of my dress, caressing my bare shoulders as if the breeze itself wanted to warn me of what was to come. A shiver ran down my spine. I stopped right at the threshold of the Hall, where a ghostly mist floated above the floor, like a premonition, like a boundary between what I was... and what I was about to become.
I took a breath. I exhaled slowly, as if I could expel my doubts along with it.
I felt the gentle but firm pressure of my father's arm as he positioned himself beside me.
"You still have time to say no," he murmured in a low, warm voice, laden with... fear?
I turned my face slightly, seeking his eyes. And what I found broke me a little inside.
There was no hardness. None of the judgment with which so many others would look at me tonight. Only a tired love, aged by battles, but still intact... for me.
"If you want to run... we will. Just say it. I have men waiting for you outside. You don't have to bear any of this."
