THE UNBREAKABLE PIECE (FIRST BOOK OF THE HIDDEN WORLD) English version

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: LONG LIVE.

The moon rose serenely above our heads, nearing the center, submerging itself among its dark and vast petals. The scent of flowers enchanted my skin, lifting me in the air, calming my nerves. The queen's gardens had been lit with torches, marking the path from the castle to the tall and sharp gates that separated us from the rest of the citadel. There, my family awaited me, what was left of it. King Aleksander wore a splendid gray tunic with silver tones, adorned with small black insets that ascended like flames from his sleeves, brushing his shoulders. My grandmother, the queen of Alba, always made a strong impression, and for the first time, I saw her wearing black with an elegance that I envied. Her dress fell long over the white stones, delicate rose embroideries decorated her shoulders, and she proudly wore a massive crown with diamonds at its tips, giving the impression that silver branches had been melted around her head. My grandfather, the sovereign of this nation, also wore one. But from a distance, it looked heavier on his head, and its branches tangled outward with spikes.

My attention focused on my father, who with his gentle eyes gave me the confidence to move forward in this new world opening up for me. He usually looked impeccable, and that night was no exception. His hair had been neatly combed, he had discarded that incipient beard from his face, and even though the past few days had been tormenting upon learning that his eldest son was not the result of his love with my mother, the dark circles under his eyes had disappeared, though I knew somehow they slept expectantly in his skin. An instant smile formed on his face when he noticed me among the jasmines of Albus. Some lines on his face became even more pronounced as he discovered what I had observed in front of the mirror, the resemblance to my mother was unique. The same woman who was now sitting in a dungeon, protected by my father's two best soldiers, after Gideon and Gerard, who were with the royal family tonight. For a moment, I wished to emulate my grandmother's gift of empathy and remove every painful moment from my father's chest. The prince simply smiled at me again and adjusted his black suit, which had on its upper lapel a satin handkerchief of the same color as my dress. His crown was smaller than the queen's, also simulating with its silver branches a rose garden with thorns.

Ekaitz walked in silence behind my steps, saying nothing after I left my room. His steps were assertive, and he only gave me a half-smile of courtesy when I dared to look over my shoulder. The pain caused by my rejection had settled there, in his eyes.

My guard also awaited my presence, looking impeccable like a group of professional models ready to fulfill their duty by my side. Those who had been in the forest the day before focused their gaze in my direction, trying to unearth every secret hidden beneath my human skin. Sophia wore gold, with a dress that emphasized her hips and every curve. Her brother Edmund wore white with a small matching black bow. Lexi, on the other hand, showcased the color of her eyes as her strength and wore a short dress in the same shade as the water in the Eternal Sea. Jayden, by her side— the Jayden that once was mine—looked proud of the woman next to him, in a blue suit that perfectly complemented the tones chosen by his girlfriend. Kimberly, Harry, and Savannah dressed in black and red. Although I doubted they had agreed beforehand, it seemed like they did to match. Ben had chosen a suit the color of wine, which, when untouched by light, appeared as dark as the night. Meanwhile, Gemma looked exquisitely beautiful in a loose olive green dress at the hips. Her auburn hair was pulled back, drawing attention to her neck, where a silver necklace with an emerald in the center rested.

The world stopped; my racing thoughts froze the moment I noticed him for the first time in the crowd. From head to toe, Eamon wore the color of coal and the night once stolen from its stars. Black suited him better than darkness, as if he himself had invented the color. His emerald eyes devoured each of my movements, expectant for my arrival. His hair swept back, leaving a few curls playing on his forehead, and his lips had reddened from the force he had exerted by biting on them. I would have liked to say he looked like an angel, but he was the very devil portrayed in the most tempting way possible, standing in front of me. And though I still didn't know to whom my heart truly belonged, I could feel the weight of Eamon's gaze tipping the scales in his favor. Breaking every logic, my heart raced as our beats intertwined in the same rhythm.