AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A shiver of guilt rolled down my spine as Magda continued to adjust the delicate lacework on my gown. I couldn't shake the feeling that she shouldn't be here, helping me prepare for a wedding that felt more like a cage than a celebration.
"Magda," I murmured. “You don't have to help me. I mean, you're not—"
"Ah, Carmencita,” Magda interrupted, her laughter light and musical as she waved off my concerns. "Don't worry about it. I want to be here."
I tried to force a smile, but the gesture was a pale imitation of genuine happiness. I should be happy today—if this had been real.
Magda's eyes met mine in the looking glass, her expression softening with concern. "How are you feeling, Carmen?"
My gaze flickered to the space where Adalaida had stood moments before. I shifted the stump, and the thick padding rubbed against my other thigh.
"Lost," I admitted quietly, my voice barely audible above the rustle of silk as I shifted my weight. "My leg hurts, and I'm tired. But I don't have any choice."
Magda shook her head, and I saw her face stretch into sorrow. "You've always done too much to help others." She placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "But I don't understand why you aren't happy about this. Carmen, you care about him. He worships you. That much is clear. Hell, he brought me to Santiago just to appease you. This is a good thing. Why are you miserable?”
Her words struck me deeply. But there were secrets I couldn't share— responsibilities that could not be ignored.
"I can't tell you," I whispered, gory memories filling my mind.
She looked concerned, and then her face relaxed.
"While I was at Santiago's house, I remembered something. Something important." She looked eager, like she knew what she was about to give me would be helpful. "Maestra Cecelia wanted me to tell you she is sorry."
"Sorry?" I echoed, shifting my thoughts away from the exploding volcano. Maestra Cecelia had been furious with me when she found out I had golden Blood Magic.
"Thank you," I breathed. "That makes me feel better."
Magda brightened even further. "Really?”
I nodded, but her comforting words couldn't erase the memory of Canciller Duarte's harsh accusations—his claim that I was responsible for the eruption that had devastated our world. There was so much blood on my hands.
"Magda..." I began hesitantly, unsure if I should share my secret burden with her.
A hesitant knock on the door interrupted our conversation, and as it creaked open, Señora Morales burst into the room like a gust of wind, her eyes shining with excitement. "Renata, ¡ya llegó el Canciller!"
My heart clenched in my chest, and I felt like the air had been sucked from my lungs. The man who held me responsible for so much death would accompany me to my wedding. My panic bubbled beneath the surface, but I forced a smile onto my face.
"On my way," I said, feigning delight even though my insides churned with dread.
Magda squeezed my hand reassuringly before stepping back, allowing Señora Morales to guide me out of the room. As we descended the grand staircase, I caught my breath at the sight before me. The once cold and desolate space had transformed into a lush garden of vibrant flowers, their petals unfurling like secrets whispered in the moonlight. Soft candlelight flickered across every surface, casting shadows that danced to the haunting melody of a full orchestra.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Señora Morales breathed, her voice filled with awe. I nodded silently, momentarily lost in the enchantment of it all. But then, amidst the sea of faces, I spotted Canciller Duarte, his silver hair gleaming in the candlelight like a beacon of my impending fate.
My heart sped up, and my breathing grew ragged.
"Excuse me," I stammered, enveloped in the chatter and laughter that filled the air. "I think I left something behind. I'll be right back."
Without waiting for a response, I hobbled away from the crowd, my heart pounding in my ears as I slipped into Antonio's office. I leaned against the door, taking a deep breath to calm my racing thoughts. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
"Carmen?" a familiar voice asked gently, and I looked up to find my prometido standing by his desk, concern etched onto his handsome features.
"Antonio," I breathed relief mingling with my turmoil. "I... I didn't expect to find you here."
"Neither did I," he admitted, his light brown eyes never leaving mine. "But here we are."
"Here we are," I echoed, feeling the weight of unspoken words and silent confessions pressing upon us like storm clouds ready to burst. “You shouldn’t see me yet. It’s bad luck.”
Sensing my distress, he stood up and drew close to me.
