When Queen Isabelle offers me a deal to fake an engagement with the Crown Prince, my first instinct is to laugh. I must be hallucinating-blame it on the tea. But as her words sink in, I realize the potential boost this could bring to my tech company...
"You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them." Maya Angelou
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The morning sun filters through the tall windows of the grand estate, casting a soft glow over the spacious room. I stand in front of a floor-length mirror, adjusting the delicate lace of my dress. The gown hugs my figure perfectly, its white fabric flowing elegantly around me. I try to ignore the flutter of nerves in my stomach, but it's impossible. Today is the engagement photo shoot-an event that's supposed to be simple, yet carries so much weight.
The stylist pins back a stray curl, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. It's just a photo shoot, I remind myself. But the symbolism of it all makes my heart beat a little faster. This time, I'd been given a royal stylist, and I missed Amelia a little. My hair had been blown out perfectly and styled in waves that fell down my back, and the white dress I was wearing was adorned with subtle hints of gold that caught the light every time I moved. The engagement ring, the one the palace had selected, lay in its velvet box on the table, a reminder of what today meant.
The door creaks open, and I glance up to see Alex stepping into the room. The sight of him steals my breath for a moment. He looks devastatingly handsome in his tailored suit, the deep navy of the fabric contrasting perfectly with his golden hair. Our eyes meet, and for a second, the world fades away.
"You look..." His voice trails off, and there's a softness in his expression that I haven't seen before. "Stunning."
He walks over, picks up the ring, and looks at me, his gaze intense and unwavering. The room feels charged with something electric, something that makes the air around us thrum with energy. He gently lifts my hand, and as he slides the ring onto my finger, our eyes lock, the connection between us almost palpable.
His breath hitches slightly, and for a moment, I think he might say something, but instead, he just chuckles-soft and a little forced. There's a tension there, a reflection of the same nerves I'm feeling.
"Shall we get this over with?" he says, trying to sound casual, but there's an undercurrent to his words that betrays his own apprehension.
"Right," I reply, my voice steadier than I expected. I focus on the task ahead, reminding myself that this is more than just a photo shoot. These pictures will be seen by millions, dissected by the media, and analyzed by the public. We're about to present the image of a couple deeply in love-a future king and queen standing on the brink of a life together.
And it all has to look real.
The photographer, a renowned artist known for capturing raw emotion, directs us to the first setting-a grand staircase draped in soft white flowers. I place my hand on Alex's arm, and the contact sends a shiver through me. My fingers feel cold against the warmth of his skin. He glances down at me, sensing my tension, and offers a reassuring nod.
