The peace treaty between Arath and Cantar was signed after a generation of war, but the tension in the throne room was so thick you could cut it with a dagger. King Aldrin stood rigid as the terms were read aloud, his jaw tight as he glanced at the princess who would soon be his bride. She looked elegant, composed, utterly still—but her hands were trembling beneath the folds of her gown. “A beauty, isn’t she?
” whispered one of his advisors. Aldrin said nothing. He was watching her, and he saw what no one else seemed to notice: the fear in her eyes when she looked at him, the way she flinched when the word “crown” was spoken. The blessing of the two houses came next, a ritual that should have been a formality.
But when the priest called for the holy water, the princess stepped back, and her face went pale. Aldrin saw it. He filed it away, the way he filed everything, and said nothing. Later that night, in the corridor outside her chambers, he heard her voice through the door.
“How is that supposed to make me look if I marry him while I look like this? ” She was speaking to her maid, her tone bitter. “If they see me in the daylight, they’ll think he’s marrying a beast. ”
Aldrin stopped.
He’d heard the rumors about the princess of Cantar, the whispers that she was cursed, that she hid her face from the sun. But he hadn’t believed them—until now. The wedding was set for sunset, a deliberate choice she’d insisted on. “A mercy for all concerned,” she’d said with a laugh that didn’t reach her eyes.
He’d agreed, because it seemed harmless. But as the light began to fade, he watched her leave the hall, and he followed. She was in the garden, alone, staring at the horizon. He approached her and said, “I understand.
You needn’t explain. ” But she didn’t turn around. She was silent for so long that he thought she hadn’t heard him. Then she spoke, her voice breaking.
“You’re still here. ”
“If I leave immediately, it may arouse suspicion,” he said. It was a lie. He didn’t want to leave.
That night, he couldn’t sleep. He paced his chambers, replaying every moment. She’d been kind to him when no one else was. She’d smiled at him, a real smile, and he felt something he hadn’t felt in years.
He wanted to know her. The days that followed were strange. They were married, but they were strangers, circling each other with careful steps. She kept to her chambers during the day, emerging only as the sun set.
He told himself it didn’t matter. He told himself he didn’t need to know why. But then, one evening, he cornered her. “You always do that,” he said.
“You rub your wrist before you say something you don’t quite believe. ”
She went still. “You noticed that? ”
“I notice everything about you.
”
She looked away. “There’s no use dwelling on it. ”
“Tell me,” he said. “Please.
”
And she did. She told him about the curse, the one that made her beautiful by night and plain by day. She told him that her stepmother had laid it on her as a child, a punishment for being her father’s favorite. She told him that if her husband ever saw her true face and recoiled, she’d be trapped forever.
“You needn’t worry,” she said, forcing a smile. “No one will see me before sunset. ”
“I don’t care what you look like,” he said. She laughed, a hollow sound.
“That’s easy to say when you’ve never seen me look like this. ”
He couldn’t argue with that. So he waited. He gave her time, and he watched her from a distance.
He saw her kindness, her sharp wit, her courage. He saw the way she took care of the servants, the way she spoke to the plants when she thought no one was listening. He fell in love with her—not the woman she became at night, but the woman she was all the time. But she didn’t believe him.
“You can’t love me,” she said. “You don’t know me. ”
“Then let me know you. ”
She shook her head.
“If you saw me the way I really am, you wouldn’t say that. ”
“Try me,” he said. She didn’t. She was too afraid.
And he was too afraid of losing her to push. The weeks passed, and the court grew restless. They wanted an heir, and they wanted it now. His advisors pressured him.
His generals whispered about the succession. And Jade—she could hear it all, the talk that she was a failure, barren and strange. “Why won’t you touch me? ” she demanded one night, her voice shaking.
“It’s not that,” he said. “Then what is it? ”
He couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t say that he loved her too much to risk seeing her hurt.
He couldn’t say that every time he reached for her, he saw her fear, and it killed him. So he said nothing. And she walked away, convinced that he didn’t want her. The breaking point came a week later, when she found him in his study, pale and shaking.
He’d been stabbed in the gardens, a poisoned blade meant for her. The assassin had been one of her stepmother’s men, sent to end the marriage before it could stick. “I’m fine,” he said, but he wasn’t. He was burning with fever, and she could see the wound festering.
She sat by his bed for three days and three nights. She held his hand while he shook. She talked to him, even when he couldn’t answer. She told him about her childhood, about the mother she’d lost, about the stepmother who had cursed her.
“I don’t understand how you can even think I could ever divorce you after this,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You don’t have to stay because you feel obligated,” she said. “I’m not staying because I feel obligated,” he said. “I’m staying because I love you.
”
She froze. “You love me? ”
“I choose you because I love you. Don’t you see that?
”
She looked down. “I’ve never been anyone’s first choice. ”
“Then let me be the first to choose you. ”
He pulled her close, and for the first time since they’d met, she didn’t pull away.
When she left the room, he called after her, “Wait. ”
She turned, and she smiled. “I’ll come back. ”
That night, as the sun set, she approached him again.
She was nervous, more nervous than she’d ever been. “I want to show you something,” she said. She led him to her chambers, and she closed the door. Then she opened the curtains, letting the moonlight spill across the floor.
“I’ve been so afraid of this,” she said. “If you see me and you turn away, I’ll be trapped. I’ll never be able to go back. ”
He took a step toward her.
“I’m not going to turn away. ”
She nodded, and then she did it. She let the magic fall away, the illusion she’d worn all day. Her skin changed, her features shifting, her true face revealed.
He saw her. He saw her fully, and he didn’t flinch. “You’re still beautiful,” he said. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.
“You’re not lying to me? ”
“I would never lie to you. ”
And then she understood. The curse had never been about her face.
It had been about trust. She had to be seen, truly seen, by someone who loved her without condition. And he had. She reached out and took his hand.
“I love you,” she said. “I’ve loved you for so long. ”
He pulled her in, and they stayed like that, holding each other as the moonlight washed over them. The next morning, she walked through the court without covering her face.
The nobles gasped and whispered, but she didn’t flinch. She walked to her husband and kissed him in front of everyone. “I’ve never seen her before,” someone said. “That’s not true,” Jade said simply.
“You just never saw me. ”
Later, as they walked through the gardens, Aldrin stopped her. “I know you told me you loved me last night. But I want to hear it again.
In the light. ”
She smiled, and for the first time, it didn’t waver. “I love you, Aldrin. And I’m not going anywhere.
”
He pulled her close. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere either. ”
They’d each been no one’s first choice.
But they’d chosen each other—and that was everything.
