Four

Arrella woke to the soft chirping of baby birds and the gentle light of the rising sun gleaming through her window.

Her body ached, a dull throb pulsing in her tender feet.

She glanced at the crumpled dress on the floor from last night, her gaze drifting around her room, the weight of the announcement pressing on her chest. Her sense of self felt like it was slipping away.

It wasn’t that she disliked the prince; she didn’t even know him. But she wanted to choose her own partner—to fall in love with someone of her own choosing, not be thrust into an engagement.

She hated when others spoke for her, just because she couldn’t speak. She was mute, not silent. But no one bothered to listen to her. Except Jan—and sometimes her mother, on a good day. But those were rare.

She didn’t know what to expect with Aiden Veron—whether he would silence her, talk over her, or genuinely try to communicate, to listen.

But she supposed it wouldn’t matter much. As a Veron, he could hear others' thoughts at will. It was troubling—she’d have to be cautious about what she thought around him—but there was a strange sense of relief. Maybe her mother’s power wouldn’t affect him if he was supposedly the strongest Veron, though that seemed unlikely, considering she had managed to deceive even the king himself.

A slight disappointment tugged at her. She was exhausted from always having to pretend, hiding her inability to use the gift. Maybe she would just finally tell the truth to someone.

She shook her head.

No, that wouldn’t end well. "He was clearly using her—for her “power”—and she, him. Their union was a calculated move to tighten their grip on each other, and on the council.

Or maybe it was just a cold joke from fate—a cruel attempt to atone for her “defect,” a punishment for something she never chose.

A sharp knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts.

“Arrella, are you up, sweetheart?” her mother’s voice called.

She scrambled out of bed, tying back her lazy curls just as the door opened. Her mother swept in, dressed in a sharp, crimson floor-length gown, her hair pulled into a high, immaculate bun. A wide smile spread across her face.

“Good morning, dear,” she greeted. “I noticed you left early last night. Did you enjoy the celebration?”

Arrella gave a terse nod.

“Wonderful,” she said, clasping her hands with bright enthusiasm. “I was hoping to catch you before breakfast. We’ll be dining with the Verons this morning—a chance for you two to become better acquainted.” She perched herself on the edge of the rumpled bed, eyes lifting to meet her daughter’s.

Arrella stood still, unsure whether to feel irritation or despair at her mother’s utter disregard for her feelings. It wasn’t new—being sidelined for the sake of family honor had long been her reality—but this felt different. Deeper. As if letting this go would seal her fate, like a snare tightening. One misstep and she’d be trapped in a life built for everyone but her.

I don’t want to marry Aiden Veron, Mother, she signed evenly, keeping her emotions in check. Anger never won her anything with her mother.

Her mother gave a breezy laugh. “Oh, Arrella, there’s no need to turn down such a blessed union,” she said lightly. “I mean, considering the alternative—like that duke who was oddly fixated on your hair—Prince Aiden is a perfectly fine match, is he not?”

Her back stiffened. I’m sure Prince Aiden has plenty of admirable qualities, she pleaded. But you can’t just spring the news of my engagement on me on my birthday and expect that I’d just go along with it.

She took a breath. Her hands had become too frantic and erratic to be read properly. I don’t even know him. I don’t even love him.

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Oh, honey,” she chided as if she were consoling a child. “Marrying for love is a luxury most can’t afford to wait on. You’re almost of age and have only been with one partner. This is an opportunity you don’t let slip away.” She turned serious, “You grasp it like a fallen jewel and use it to make the beholder shine even brighter.”

She stood and reached up to tug a lock of curls that had fallen around her face during her heated tirade. “But you loved Father, Mother,” Arrella implored, her voice full of misery.

“Indeed, child, I did. I still do,” she answered sadly. “But he was a poor man with little sway in the court, despite his brilliant paintings that the king adored.” She gently cupped Arrella’s cheek, continuing, “It wasn’t enough to have the king’s favor.”

She stared intently at her eyes. “You need someone who can influence decisions, someone whose mere presence can shift the balance of power.” She hesitated, her gaze softening. “The prince is the perfect match. He can protect you when I no longer can.”

Arrella stared at her mother, her own reflection staring back at her from those familiar eyes. She couldn't help but wonder: did her mother ever feel trapped by the life she'd chosen? Was this life of power, reputation, and constant sacrifice really worth it, or had her mother simply resigned herself to the chains of expectation and duty?

The weight of tradition and reputation was something Arrella felt daily, a looming presence that seemed to define everything. Her family’s status was built on their magical prowess, and as much as she hated it, she knew that in the Rumore world, magic wasn’t just a gift—it was a weapon, a currency. Without it, they would crumble, and it was a burden she carried, one that threatened to undo the carefully woven image of the Rumore family. Their reputation was what kept them intact and unchallenged by the other noble families.

Each noble family was powerful in its own right, and long ago, the world had been divided into five kingdoms, each ruled by a gifted family. But it was a time of destruction—constant war, unrelenting bloodshed, and insatiable greed. Every kingdom fought for more power, more resources, more control over each other’s unique abilities. The balance of the world was on the brink of collapse.

It wasn't until an unknown force emerged—a sixth family, shrouded in secrecy and power—who brokered an unexpected peace among the kingdoms. They united the five kingdoms, establishing a fragile peace that, over time, blossomed into a lasting harmony. Even now, the five families honored this peace, each one keeping the others in check, ensuring that none became too dominant.

This balance was the foundation of their world, and marriages between the five families were often used to maintain it. She couldn’t afford to jeopardize that. Not for herself, and certainly not for her bloodline. Despite everything, Arrella still loved her mother and knew that, even in her rigid way, her mother cared for her.

Swallowing hard, she glanced down at her bare feet, feeling a weight settle in her chest.

"I trust you understand now, dear. You accept this union, yes?" Her mother’s voice was final.

Arrella nodded slightly, her gaze fixed on the floor, unwilling to meet her mother's eyes.

"Good. I’ll see you at breakfast." With a sharp click of the door, she was gone.

Arrella collapsed back onto her bed, her arm shielding her eyes as she tried to pretend she was not Arrella Rumore but just a normal girl who could fall in love with a normal boy, away from the power that defined her entire life.