The Forbidden Love 𖥔 ͙ࣳ

˓𓄹 ࣪˖ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝐵𝑒𝓉𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒰𝓈 ˓𓄹 ࣪˖

The flicker of the candlelight reflected in the polished wood of the castle's grand drawing room, casting long shadows across the faces of the assembled families. There was no celebration here, no joy. The engagement had been called off. The prince's father sat rigid in his chair, the tightness in his jaw betraying the disappointment he struggled to conceal. His gaze swept over the room, lingering on Bridget for a moment longer than was comfortable. 

"For the best," he muttered, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. Yet the weight of those words pressed down on Bridget like a stone. 

The prince himself stood by the window, his hands clasped behind his back, the tension evident in the way his shoulders tightened every time someone spoke. He turned finally, his face composed, though there was something unreadable in his eyes. "I wish you well, Bridget," he said, his voice formal, detached. His politeness did little to mask the relief in his expression. He was letting her go, but not unkindly. 

Bridget swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. But nothing felt appropriate. "Thank you," she managed, her voice softer than she intended. Her heart pounded, a mix of relief and guilt swirling within her. The engagement had been a burden, one she was glad to be free of, but the disappointment in the room was palpable. 

As the prince's family rose to leave, Bridget found herself standing near the window, watching as they disappeared into the night. The sound of their carriage fading into the distance was the only thing that filled the silence that followed. The heavy doors closed behind them, leaving an uneasy quiet hanging in the air. It was over.

Her father, who had been quietly seated at the far end of the room, rose slowly, adjusting the sleeve of his coat. His face remained unreadable, though his brow furrowed slightly, showing the strain of the evening. He approached Bridget, his movements slow and deliberate. 

"Bridget—" he began, his voice tinged with an emotion she couldn't quite place. 

"Father," Mirana interrupted sharply, stepping forward before he could say more. Her gaze was fierce, the protective edge in her voice unmistakable. "We need to talk." 

Their father raised a brow, surprised by the sudden interruption, but before he could protest, Mirana crossed the room with purpose, her footsteps echoing in the vast chamber. "Now." 

Bridget felt a knot tighten in her stomach as Mirana ushered their father into the study. She knew what was coming, and she wanted no part of it. She wanted to be anywhere but here, yet her legs refused to move. 

Inside the study, Mirana's voice was barely contained. Bridget could hear the words, clipped and urgent. "Do you have any idea what just happened? You can't keep pushing her like this. Do you even care what you've done?" 

Bridget inched closer to the door, her heart thudding as she strained to listen. 

Their father's voice was low, but stern. "I did what I thought was best. For the family, for Wonderland. You of all people should understand that." 

"This is about more than duty," Mirana snapped. "I caught her. With Hook." 

A tense silence followed. Then their father spoke again, his voice rough. "What did you say?" 

"You heard me," Mirana replied, her words sharp as knives. "She was with him. In the garden. Kissing." 

Bridget's pulse quickened. She didn't need to see her father's face to know the shock that must have been written all over it. She could imagine his expression, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Inside, their father's temper flared. "You should have told me earlier. How could you let this happen?" 

Mirana's voice remained steady, though the heat in her tone was undeniable. "You pushed her into this engagement, a marriage she didn't want. What did you expect, Father? That she would fall into line without question? Bridget has been miserable for weeks."