Ryophlira POV

Five days.

Five agonizing, blur-inducing days left until I was to stand before an altar and bind my life to a stranger.

Ever since the night Aiyolistra had left a dead, blackened flower on my vanity, my existence had been reduced to a exhausting routine. My world had shrunk down to the sharp, unforgiving sting of Ms. Rosa’s lace fan by afternoon, and brutal combat training by morning.

"Again, Ryophlira!" Father’s voice boomed across the dusty training grounds. "The North is a den of wolfs who have been starved. When you step across that border, you will no longer have your family there to fight your battles or shield your mistakes. You must be strong enough to go up against anyone."

"Your father is right," Mother would chime in, her fingers elegantly tracing the rim of her teacup while her eyes remained hyper-focused on me. "A queen who cannot command her own fire is nothing but prey. Contain it. Perfect it."

So, I pushed. I pushed until my lungs burned, until my muscles screamed, and until the spark of my magic felt like a heavy, draining anchor dragging me into the dirt.

Every single day left me entirely hollowed out. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the sheer physical and mental toll of trying to be the perfect, unbreakable weapon was too much to bear. I completely stopped attending family dinners. I couldn’t face the heavy, suffocating silence of the dining hall, nor could I stomach the pressure. Instead, I would drag my numb body back to my room, collapse onto my bed in the dark, and let sleep claim me before Ari could even finish setting down my dinner tray.

And slowly, bit by bit, the physical evidence of that night began to fade.

Standing before the mirror on the fifth morning before the wedding, I gently pulled my hair away from my neck. The skin was smooth. Flawless. The dark, bruise Yue-Senn had left on my neck had completely disappeared.

Looking at my bare, unmarked skin, a cold, heavy wave of reality finally kicked in.

It was actually happening. The evidence of our reckless night was gone, and in its place was a hollowing sense of deep sadness and suffocating regret. I was leaving. I was abandoning my home for a frozen kingdom, locked into a political contract born of desperation.

The palace around me was fracturing under the weight of the upcoming date. My brother was rarely seen, spending every waking hour frantically trying to track down the identity of the "spy" who had breached our perimeter. Father was constantly locked away in the study room, sending out continuous messages to smooth things over with the neighboring kingdoms, desperately trying to keep the realm from sliding into another war before the alliance was sealed. Mother was a whirlwind of lace, completely absorbed in the frantic, final preparations for a grand royal wedding.

And Aiyolistra... my sister had become a ghost. She was more distant than she had ever been in our entire lives. Whenever we crossed paths in the corridors, she didn’t glare. She simply looked right through me, her violet eyes cold and vacant, as if I were already dead and buried in the northern snow.

Yet, through all the noise, the paranoia, and the ticking clock... there was nothing but silence from the North.

I hadn’t received a single letter. No whispered rumors from the borders, no sign of the shadow in the trees. I hadn’t seen his face or heard a single word from him. It was as if that towering, tattooed monster had vanished into thin air, leaving me to drown in the suffocating reality of the cage he had built for me.

"My lady?" Ari’s soft voice broke through the quiet, her hands holding a fresh dress. "Ms. Rosa is waiting in the east wing."

I swallowed the bitter lump of regret in my throat, let go of my hair, and forced my spine to straighten. "Tell her I’m coming."