The Engagement's End, A New Beginning

chest. *A formality.* The words were a brand, searing themselves into my mind. Every shared memor

e my head. But the image of his tender concern for Isabel, a tender

ved through the crowd like a ghost, my emerald dress a mockery of celebration. People greeted me, their smiles wide and false, their eyes flickin

red hair a beacon in the sea of muted tones. She t

you've seen a ghost." Her hand was

spered, the words tasting l

xpression hardening as she spotted Mark across the ballroom. He was standing with Isabel, his hand still resting possess

said... he said this w

voice low and furious. "After

. "The announcement. His father is about to make the toast. He wouldn't..

pity and frustration. "Clara, open you

a formidable man with a steel-grey mane and eyes as cold as his son's, tap

ooming with authority. "Thank you all fo

looked out at the crowd, his eyes scanning, but not for me. He was looking for Isabel. He found her and g

family. For the "formality." As I took the first step, the weakness I'd been fighting all evening su

ught my eye and mouthed, "Are you alright?" I gave a weak nod, but his expression didn't change. I saw him mutter something to his wife, his g

s and the strength of family lines. "And now, I'll hand it over to my

up the two small steps to the dais. The plush red carpet felt like quicksand. When I reached Mark's side, he didn't look a

ritual where we were supposed to exchange vows of intent, to toast to our

his voice cool and steady. "T

inished th

to the floor near the edge of the dais, her hand outstretched, her face a mask of pain. She had "tripped." It was

nore it. That he would see the manipulation for what it was and honor the w

he

to her, his arm connecting with my shoulder. The unexpected force sent me stumbling backward. My heel caught

hen I

through the crowd. The pain was sharp, but the humiliation was a tidal wave, drowning me. I looke

cradling her as if she were made of spun glass. He smoothed her hair back

ut there was no remorse in them. No concern. Only a bl

el up with him, keeping her tucked protectively against h

!" he snarled, his voice echoing in

process the wor

ncing a decree. In front of his father, my friends, and the entire stunned

k my betrothal to Clara Ashford. I will not be bound to a woman so c

fragile thread of hope, the bond I thought we shared, didn't just fray; it snapped. A searing pain er

shock and pity. The tremors in my body intensified into violent shudders

, his expression softening as he brushed her cheek. He had des