The night of the party was finally here.
The air in her bedroom was stale, thick with the scent of cloying floral perfumes and the oppressive silence that always preceded a family outing. Outside the doors, the Vernhardt estate was humming with the frantic energy of the Founding Anniversary preparations, but in here? In here, it felt like a tomb.
The jewelry box felt heavy, a dead weight of silver and expectation resting against Liera's palms. Inside, the necklace Prince Herschel had gifted her seemed to pulse with a light that felt entirely unearned. It was beautiful, undeniably. But to Liera, it looked like a noose. Or perhaps a very expensive leash.
Liera traced the cool metal of the necklace, her chest aching with a hollow, persistent throb. "What would you do, Verona?" she whispered to the empty room.
