Cover Design: Clarissa Wild’s Booming Covers
I can barely breathe.
Not just because my corset is on so tight so they can hoist me into the wedding dress he selected for me … but also because I’m terrified. Terrified of the sparkling studs on my chest, the high-heeled peep toe pumps on my feet, the tiny silver tiara on my head, and the veil that hangs low over my curled hair.
These past few days have felt like a blur. I’m shaking as I stare at myself in the mirror, at that woman I’ve been forced to become. A woman who’s about to marry her biggest enemy. A man who took her as a prize.
Princess … he uses the name as an insult, but that same princess stares right back at me through this mirror. A princess who doesn’t belong in these shoes or these clothes, yet she has no choice in the matter. She’s getting married to the devil as payment for her father’s debt.
It’s hard to sigh when you don’t have any room to breathe, and someone is pulling and tugging on your bodice, trying to fit you into the outfit they made from scratch by hand. I don’t blame Jill for trying; she had to make it work within a few days. That’s all the time he gave her … all the time he gave me.