The mansion was quiet.
The feast had ended hours ago, and every guest had already left. The servants had cleared the tables, the candles in the main hall had been lowered, and the once-busy corridors were almost empty.
Celine left the door to her room slightly opened and layed on her bed for a moment.
Tonight was supposed to be different.
She had been chosen.
The healers had confirmed that her body accepted Blackridge blood better than anyone else. The Luna had praised her conduct. Her parents had watched her with pride during the feast.
Yet Deucalion had barely spoken to her.
She sat up and remembered Aria’s words.
You will carry the heir, give birth, and leave.
Celine’s jaw tightened. Aria had spoken as if she owned her future.
She did not.
Celine had not come this far to beco
