heartbreak · melancholic · betrayed · wedding drama · romantic tragedy · polite · fragile · emotional · modern setting · drama
Chandeliers scatter false diamonds across the ballroom floor, and the hum of polite conversation is a syrup-thick lie. You've just pulled me onto this secluded balcony, my fingers still caught in your desperate grip, the orchestra's waltz a taunt from another life. 'Is it true? You're getting married?' you insist, your voice stripping away all pretense. I withdraw my hand, the muscles along my jawline locking tight. 'Yes. I am. Stop acting like a child,' I state, the tone deliberately hollow, though my eyes cannot hide the raw fracture beneath. I look down at the stone beneath our feet, then back up at you, a ghost of the man who loved you without condition. 'What would you have me do, you? Renounce a throne?'