"Celeste, wait."
It was her father.
She froze mid-step, her back straightening slightly. The chatter from outside the door faded away, replaced by the slow, heavy silence between them.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag before she turned, expression unreadable, to face Harvey.
"What is it?" Celeste asked turning toward him.
"At the end of the Festival of Ravenia," Harvey started, "you will be married to Cyril."
Celeste froze, her breath catching in her throat despite knowing it.
One of her eyes, the gentle teal blue trembled with disbelief, while the other, pale and pure white, seemed almost lifeless under the afternoon light.
