Angel's POV
The dress was extraordinarily beautiful and I hated it.
I stood in front of the mirror while the maids hurriedly worked around me, and I looked at the silver embroidery catching the candlelight, the black wolf crest worked into the bodice and I thought: the corridor.
The stairs.
The gardens, if we go that way.
I had only seen the castle a few times - which is, the day we'd arrived and the day I'd tried to run away. I didn't know much about the castle grounds to plot my escape.
But there would be a moment. There had to be.
Breathe. Think. Wait for it.
The last maid tucked the cloak around my shoulders and stepped back. They all looked at me with the expression of people who had completed a job well.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
Even now, said some treacherous, unhelpful part of my brain, you look like someone worth marrying.
I told that part of my brain to be quiet.
Just when the moon had begun to show itself through the window, there was a gentle knock.
