Evelina's POV
I collapse behind the rose bushes in the palace garden, gasping for air.
My lungs burn. My legs shake. I ran so fast from Adrian's room that I nearly fell down the stairs. Now I'm hiding like a criminal in the one place I used to feel safe.
The roses smell sweet, but it makes my stomach turn. Everything beautiful suddenly feels like a lie.
How did I not see it? Six months. Six whole months they were together while I planned our wedding. While I smiled and dreamed about my future. While I trusted them both with my whole heart.
I'm so stupid. So blind. So pathetically stupid.
A sob tears from my throat, then another. I press my hands over my mouth to muffle the sound, but I can't stop. Tears stream down my face, hot and endless. My carefully styled hair falls loose around my shoulders. My beautiful silver gown gets dirty from the ground.
I don't care. None of it matters anymore.
What am I supposed to do now? Tomorrow morning, everyone expects a wedding. My dress is ready. The flowers are arranged. The kingdom is celebrating. But there's no groom. No future. No point.
Maybe I should run away. Leave the palace tonight and never come back. Change my name. Become someone else. Someone who wasn't stupid enough to trust the two people she loved most.
"There you are."
I freeze. That voice.
Isolde steps around the rose bushes, still wearing that sheet wrapped around her like a dress. Her hair is messy and her lips are still swollen from kissing him.
Kissing my future husband.
"Go away," I choke out, wiping at my tears furiously. I won't let her see me cry anymore.
"We need to talk, Evie." She sits down next to me like we're still sisters. Still friends. Like she didn't just destroy my entire life.
"I have nothing to say to you." I try to stand up, but she grabs my wrist.
"Well, I have things to say to you." Her grip is strong, surprisingly strong. "Sit down."
"Let go of me!"
"Not until you listen." Her eyes are hard now, not playful like they were in Adrian's room. "You need to understand something. This isn't personal."
I laugh, but it sounds broken and crazy. "Not personal? You slept with my fiancé!"
"Your arranged fiancé," she corrects. "A man you were forced to marry because of politics and bloodlines. You never had a choice, Evie. Neither did he. I'm the one he actually chose."
"We grew up together! We were supposed to—"
"Supposed to what? Love each other just because our parents signed a contract when we were children?" Isolde shakes her head. "That's not how real love works. Real love is what Adrian and I have. Passion. Fire. Choice."
Each word is a knife in my chest. "I loved him."
"No, you didn't." She says it so confidently, like she knows my heart better than I do. "You loved the idea of him. The prince, the crown, the perfect fairy tale. But you never really saw him, Evie. You were too busy being perfect to notice that he was miserable."
"That's not true—"
"Yes, it is!" Her voice rises. "Do you know what he told me? He said being with you is like being with a beautiful statue. Pretty to look at, but cold. No real feelings. No passion. Just duty and manners and endless perfect smiles."
The words hit me like punches. Is that really what Adrian thinks? Is that who I am?
"I was trying to be a good wife," I whisper.
"You were trying to be a good queen," Isolde corrects. "There's a difference. A wife loves her husband. A queen loves her crown. And we both know which one you really wanted."
"You don't know anything about what I want!" I yank my wrist free from her grip. "You're my sister! You were supposed to support me, not betray me!"
"Support you?" Isolde laughs bitterly. "I've been supporting you my entire life, Evie. Standing in your shadow. Watching everyone praise you while they forget I exist. Do you know what it's like? Being the spare? The backup daughter in case something happens to the perfect heir?"
"I never asked to be the heir!" My voice breaks. "I never asked for any of this!"
"But you took it anyway!" She stands up, the sheet slipping off one shoulder. "You took everything. The attention, the praise, the throne, the prince. You took it all and never once thought about what that left for me. Nothing. You left me nothing, Evie."
Guilt twists in my stomach, mixing with anger and grief. "So you decided to take him? To hurt me like this?"
"I decided to choose myself for once." Her face softens slightly. "Look, I didn't want to hurt you. But I can't keep living in your shadow. I can't keep pretending I'm happy watching you get everything while I get nothing."
"So what happens now?" I ask, my voice hollow.
Isolde takes a deep breath. "Tomorrow, I'll talk to Father. I'll explain that Adrian and I are in love. That we should be the ones getting married, not you and him. The kingdom still gets their royal wedding. Everyone stays happy. You'll just... step aside."
"Step aside?" I repeat numbly. "You want me to just give up everything? My engagement? My future? My crown?"
"It was never really yours, Evie. It was just assigned to you." She reaches out like she wants to touch my shoulder, but I jerk away. "You'll be fine. You're smart and beautiful. You'll find someone else. Maybe someone you actually love instead of someone you're obligated to marry."
"Father will never agree to this," I say desperately. "He'll be furious. The scandal—"
"Father cares about the family name," Isolde interrupts. "And right now, you're the scandal. You're the daughter who couldn't keep her fiancé happy. Who drove him into another woman's arms."
"That's not fair!"
"Life isn't fair." She stands up, brushing off the sheet. "But here's what's going to happen. You're going to go to your room and stay quiet. Tomorrow, I'll handle everything. I'll make sure it's done properly, with minimal embarrassment for you."
"And if I don't?" My hands curl into fists. "What if I tell Father first? Tell him what you did?"
Isolde's expression changes. The softness vanishes, replaced by something cold and calculating.
"Then I'll tell him the truth about what happened tonight," she says quietly. "I'll tell him that you found us together and went crazy. That you threatened to use dark magic to destroy us both. That you've been secretly practicing forbidden spells."
My blood runs cold. "What? That's insane! I would never—"
"Who do you think he'll believe, Evie?" She tilts her head, studying me like I'm a bug. "His perfect daughter who suddenly had a breakdown? Or his younger daughter who's always been sweet and honest?" She pauses. "Besides, I have evidence."
"Evidence of what? I haven't done anything!"
"Evidence I've been collecting for months," she says calmly. "Books about old magic hidden in your room. A small shrine to the forbidden gods in your closet. Witnesses who will swear they saw you acting strange, muttering spells."
My mouth falls open. "You planted those things? You've been planning this?"
"I've been preparing," she corrects. "I knew you wouldn't go quietly. So I made sure I had insurance." She leans closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "So here's what's going to happen, big sister. You're going to stay silent. You're going to let me marry Adrian. And you're going to accept whatever Father decides to do with you. Because if you fight me..."
She trails off, but her meaning is clear.
"You wouldn't," I breathe.
"Try me." Her smile is sharp as a blade. "The punishment for practicing forbidden magic is death, Evie. And right now, I have enough evidence to have you executed. So the question is: do you want to live? Or do you want to fight me and lose everything, including your head?"
She turns and walks away, the sheet trailing behind her like a queen's robe.
I stay on the ground, frozen in horror.
My sister—my best friend since childhood—just threatened to have me killed.
And the worst part?
I think she means it.