Marry or Kill

09

M I N A

An orange ray reaches to the tip of my fingers. I flex my fingers, watching my skin burn into an orange tint. It must be morning—the early hours. I notice that something glints in my eye. A golden ring with a dark green gem.

I don't remember having such a beautiful ring.

The gem in the ring matches my eyes. It glimmers in the fading sunlight. Then I blink away the blurriness in my eyes.

Instantly, the covers in this bed become cold.

The sensation hits me like a sudden plunge into icy waters, jolting me from the haziness of sleep. With a gasp, I sit up, my heart hammering in my chest as I frantically scan the unfamiliar room.

Tension coils within me.

My fingers instinctively clench the crisp, white sheets slumped over me. This isn't my bed, these aren't my surroundings. I push back the covers and swing my legs over the edge, my gaze drawn upward to the jade chandelier suspended from the ceiling.

Its intricate design catches the morning light, scattering delicate patterns across the walls like fragments of a forgotten dream.

With panic, I make my way across the room.

The light green wallpaper with its golden trim seems to blur at the edges as I move toward the balcony. Silently, I hope I'm not in The North—I can't be here.

Gripping the golden handles of the balcony tightly, I wrench the doors open.

The cool morning air rushes in to meet me, carrying with it the scent of dew-kissed petals and freshly cut grass. Sunlight pours over the balcony, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor.

As I step out, my eyes widen at the sight before me.

The grandeur of Elias's estate unfolds like a painting come to life. Beyond the balcony railing lies a sprawling garden, meticulously landscaped with vibrant bursts of colour. Towering trees stand sentinel, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, while clusters of flowers nod their heads in silent greeting.

In the distance, the North stretches out in all its majesty, a breathtaking vista of rugged mountains and endless sky.

My breath catches in my throat, constricting like a vice around my windpipe, as I survey the garden below from the balcony's vantage point.

Guarding every corner of the garden, stationed at strategic intervals, are Elias's watchful guards. Even the gates, wrought iron and imposing, are manned by vigilant figures clad in the livery of Elias's household.

My fingers twitch with the impulse to run. The green ring on my finger catches the sunlight, its dark gem flashing with a tantalising glimmer.

With a growl of frustration, I snatch the ring from my finger and fling it back onto the pillow. The soft wind brushes against my skin, a gentle caress that seems to beckon me towards the edge of the balcony.

For a moment, I entertain the idea of escape, of throwing myself out of this place. But the rational voice in my head whispers a sobering truth – jumping would only lead to more pain, more chaos.

As I begin to lift my leg over the balcony, my muscles tensing with the effort, a dull voice interrupts my thoughts. My heart skips a beat as I whirl around to face Elias.

His gaze is unreadable, his expression a mask of cool detachment as he regards me with a mixture of amusement and disdain. Dropping his newspaper onto the nearby table, he looks at me from the chair he's sitting on, his posture relaxed yet somehow menacing.