The morning sun filtered weakly through the cracked window of the small stone cottage, casting pale light over the dusty wooden floor. Aria sat on the edge of her simple bed, clutching the faded locket that had belonged to her mother her only connection to a past she barely remembered. The locket was cold in her hand, just like the world had been to her since she was a child.
She had never known her mother's warmth or her father's love. The village spoke in hushed tones whenever her name came up calling her cursed, unlucky, and worse. The rumor was that her father had abandoned her after blaming her for her mother's death, a tragedy shrouded in mystery and whispered fears.
From a young age, Aria had learned to keep her head down, to avoid the scornful gazes and cruel whispers. Only Hazel, her maid and caretaker, had been a constant in her lonely life. Hazel's gentle presence was like a small flame in the cold darkness quiet, steadfast, and protective.
That morning, Hazel entered Aria's room with a strange urgency. Her usual calm demeanor was replaced with a tense nervousness as she closed the door behind her.
Princess Aria," Hazel said softly, her voice trembling slightly. "Your father is coming. He sent word that he will be here by midday."
Aria's breath caught in her throat. Her father the man she had not seen since she was a small child was coming to see her? The thought made her heart race with a mixture of hope and dread. She only knew him from faded portraits that hung on the walls of the village manor and from the cold stories told by servants and neighbors. He was a distant figure, a shadow in her life who had left behind nothing but silence and pain.
All day, Aria tried to prepare herself, pacing the worn floorboards, her mind swirling with questions. Why was he coming now? What could he possibly want after all these years? Was this a chance for reconciliation, or something darker?
The heavy knock on the door shattered the quiet. Hazel opened it cautiously, stepping aside to reveal a tall figure cloaked in dark robes. The man who entered had sharp features pale skin stretched taut over high cheekbones, piercing eyes that held a cold, unreadable expression.
Her father.
He did not smile. There was no warmth in his voice when he spoke.
"Aria," he said simply, his tone flat and commanding. "It is time."
Aria's eyes widened. "Time for what?" she whispered.
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a folded parchment. "You are to be married. Tomorrow."
The words struck her like a blow. She felt the room spin, the walls closing in around her. Married? To whom? She had no idea what this meant, what fate was being decided for her without her consent.
Her father's gaze was hard. "The arrangements have been made. You will go willingly."
She swallowed hard, the taste of fear bitter on her tongue. There was no room for argument, no chance to refuse. The life she had known or thought she had was slipping away, replaced by a destiny she could not escape.
Hazel stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Aria's shoulder. "You're not alone, Mistress. I will be with you."
Aria nodded, trying to steady herself. Tomorrow, she would leave everything behind and step into a world filled with shadows, secrets, and dangers she could barely imagine.
As her father turned and left the room, the echo of his footsteps felt like the closing of a door on her past.
And the beginning of something terrifyingly new.