He was finally returning.
Princess Cassandra's heart was a whirlwind of excitement and dread. The kingdom had been teetering on the edge ever since the prince left. Now, with his triumphant return, he would not only reclaim his title as crown prince but ascend as king—and she, his queen.
The war had been brutal, carving deep scars into the land and its people. In these long six months, Cassandra had prayed relentlessly for his safe return, even though she had only met him once—on their wedding day.
That brief encounter had been a formality, nothing more. The next morning, he departed for war without even bidding her farewell. It was humiliating, but she couldn't fault him entirely. They had been forced into this union, pawns in their fathers' political games.
Still, he was her husband. And Cassandra, trained from a young age in the ways of duty, would play her role perfectly.
She moved briskly through the castle, her sharp eyes scanning the preparations. Every detail had to be perfect. His return wasn't just a personal victory—it was a symbol of hope and stability for their war-torn kingdom.
"I trust the flowers are fresh?" she asked Ruth, her head maid, as they strode through the grand hall.
"Freshly gathered from the fields this morning, Your Highness," Ruth assured her.
"And the honey?"
"Straight from the hives."
Cassandra nodded, her gloved fingers nervously adjusting her skirts. "What of the provisions for the people?"
"We've accounted for every household, with double the usual portions to ensure a proper feast."
Her inspection was relentless. Spotting a speck of dirt on the polished floors, she halted. "That spot there. Remop it," she ordered.
Ruth followed her with quiet admiration. Cassandra wasn't just beautiful; she was formidable, her sharp mind and commanding presence undeniable.
"And Selena? Have you heard anything from her?" Cassandra's voice softened as she mentioned her dearest friend. Selena had accompanied her father to the frontlines to care for him.
"Nothing yet, Your Highness," Ruth said hesitantly. "I fear—"
"She'll be fine," Cassandra interrupted, forcing a smile. "She promised she'd return with tales of her adventures."
Despite her brave words, Cassandra couldn't shake the unease in her chest. She allowed herself a moment of vulnerability as Ruth helped her prepare for the evening. Bathing in fragrant oils and rose petals, she tried to calm her nerves.
"Worried, Your Highness?" Ruth asked, her hands deftly arranging Cassandra's hair.
"That obvious?" Cassandra smiled weakly.
"It's natural. His Majesty is a hero to the people, but to you..." Ruth trailed off, unsure how to phrase it delicately.
"To me, he's a stranger," Cassandra finished. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
The trumpets blared, signaling his arrival.
Cassandra's heart raced as she donned her blue gown, its low neckline and full skirts designed to flatter her figure. She stepped into the grand ballroom, where the nobles had already gathered.
As she descended the staircase, all eyes turned to her. She was used to this—her beauty was legendary—but today, it felt hollow.
The doors swung open, and there he stood.
Her breath hitched.
The man before her was no longer the distant figure she had married. The war had hardened him, sculpting his body and sharpening his gaze. He radiated strength and authority, and for a fleeting moment, she dared to hope.
But then his eyes met hers, and they were cold as stone.
She curtsied, forcing a polite smile. "Welcome home, Your Highness."
"Ah, Princess Cassandra," he said, his tone indifferent, as if she were merely part of the décor.
Before she could respond, a soft, lilting voice chimed in.
"My prince."
Cassandra turned, her stomach dropping as a woman stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him.
It was Selena.
Her childhood friend. Her confidante.
The woman who now stood beside her husband, looking every inch the queen Cassandra had longed to be.
"This," he announced with a smile, "is my wife, Selena."
The room fell silent.
Cassandra's world tilted as his words echoed in her mind. Her best friend—her trusted Selena—had taken her place.
"And, Princess Cassandra," he continued, his voice dripping with false courtesy, "we should discuss the annulment soon. Love, after all, is an essential foundation for marriage. I hope you understand."
Understand?
Cassandra's vision blurred with fury and humiliation. The whispers of the nobles reached her ears, their pity and disdain slicing through her like knives.
Before she could think, before she could compose herself...
She acted.
She stepped forward, slipped off her shoe, and—without hesitation—kicked him square in the face.
The gasps of the crowd were deafening, but Cassandra stood tall, her chest heaving, her pride unbroken.
If he thought he could humiliate her without consequence, he had gravely underestimated her.