The Forbidden Love 𖥔 ͙ࣳ

˓𓄹 ࣪˖ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 ˓𓄹 ࣪˖

THE SUN HAD long set, casting the sprawling Wonderland palace in hues of twilight. Night had crept in softly, bringing with it the anticipation of the first grand ball of the season. Lanterns hung in delicate arcs from the tall columns lining the palace courtyard, their soft glow reflecting the sense of occasion. Inside, the grand ballroom shimmered under a thousand candlelit chandeliers, each flicker of light bouncing off the polished marble floors, illuminating the swirling gowns of the kingdom's elite. 

Bridget stood at the top of the sweeping staircase, looking down at the sea of colorful dresses and perfectly tailored suits. The entire room glistened, the fabric of gowns like rippling waves as they moved in harmony with the music. But despite the beauty, her chest tightened with nerves, her fingers absently grazing the gold embroidery of her gown. 

Mirana appeared beside her, her hand resting lightly on Bridget's shoulder. "You look beautiful," she said, her voice soft yet teasing. 

Bridget gave a faint smile, though her nerves betrayed her. "I know what you're going to say." 

"You know I'm right," Mirana chimed in, her playful tone clear. "Tonight's important. Father has made it quite clear—if you don't find someone soon, you'll lose the freedom to choose." 

Bridget exhaled, glancing sideways at her sister. "I don't understand why it's so urgent. I have time." 

Mirana's smile softened into something more sympathetic. "In his eyes, you don't. You know what happens if you can't find someone..." 

"I know," Bridget murmured, the weight of her father's expectations settling over her like a heavy cloak. She didn't need the reminder. The pressure had been growing for years. Every season passed without a match, and each time, her father's worry grew more palpable. He had hinted, not too subtly, that if she didn't find someone, he'd have no choice but to arrange a marriage himself.

But none of this felt right. She wasn't like Mirana, so effortlessly charming and sure in the way she danced through these events. Bridget preferred quiet moments, watching from the edge rather than diving into the center of attention. The idea of picking a suitor, of her heart being tied to someone simply for the sake of duty, twisted her stomach in knots. 

"You could just ask him, you know." Mirana's words broke into her thoughts, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

"Ask who?" 

Mirana nudged her lightly, inclining her head towards the far side of the ballroom, where Captain Hook stood. 

Bridget followed her sister's gaze and saw him, standing tall and composed near the ballroom's edge, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. He looked completely at ease, the room's glittering excitement seeming to roll off him. His dark hair was swept back, his posture commanding even in a room filled with royalty and aristocrats. She caught her breath for a second, his presence filling the room in a way that was hard to ignore. 

"I don't know him," Bridget said quickly, turning her gaze back to Mirana. "He's just one of father's business partners." 

"And yet, you've been staring at him since we got here," Mirana teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. 

"I haven't—" 

"You have." Mirana gave her a gentle smile. "You don't have to be scared, Bridget. It's just a dance." 

But Bridget shook her head, glancing back at Hook once more. "It's not that simple." 

She knew Mirana meant well, but the thought of walking up to him, of asking him to dance, felt overwhelming. Captain Hook was... something different. He didn't blend into the crowd like so many others. He held a certain presence, a quiet command, that made him stand out. And even though she hadn't spent more than a fleeting moment near him, something about him unsettled her in a way she didn't entirely understand.