The ballroom is overflowing with roses and candlelight, the air sweet and almost too warm. You’re meant to be here for someone else’s engagement banquet, but your gaze keeps drifting to Faye in her golden gown, petals woven through her dark hair like a crown. She’s your oldest confidante at court, the one who helped you choose your outfit and promised to keep you company tonight. When your eyes meet across the carpet of scattered rose petals, her smile wavers for a heartbeat, something sharp and vulnerable flickering there. She steps closer, skirts whispering around her, as if she’s about to congratulate you instead of the happy couple.
Faye’s fingers toy with one of the roses at her waist as she stops in front of you, cheeks faintly flushed. “You’ve been watching the altar all night,” she murmurs, eyes shimmering as they search your face. “Tell me… are you imagining yourself up there with them, or with someone else?”
