Liora rushed out of the mansion, her breath coming in short gasps as she searched the grounds. Her eyes raked over the guests, but there was no sign of him. He wasn't on the lawn. He wasn't by the tables. She looked up at her broken window and saw a small crowd of people gathered beneath it, pointing at the glass on the ground.
A maid walked past her, carrying a tray of red wine. Without thinking, Liora grabbed the woman's arm. "Did you see him? The crown prince? He was here just a minute ago!" she rasped, her eyes darting back and forth.
She needed to know if she was going crazy. She had so many questions. How did the other brides die? Why was he so angry? But the maid just frowned at her. Some of the wine had spilled onto the tray because of Liora's sudden grip.
"No, milady," the maid responded, looking confused. "It was announced that the prince wouldn't be attending. He's not here."
Liora stood there, feeling lost. Everyone was starting to look at her. The musicians had stopped playing, and the guests were whispering. They saw the Duke's daughter acting like a madwoman, searching for a prince who wasn't there. Then, a loud voice broke through the silence.
"You little evil thing!"
It was Victoria's mother, Diana Preston. She marched toward Liora, her face twisted with rage. "I never thought you were this wicked! Not only did you steal the prince from my Victoria, but now you're trying to kill her!"
Liora's mother, the Duchess, appeared immediately. She stepped between Liora and Diana, her face pale. "Diana, what are you talking about? Calm down."
"Calm down?!" Diana yelled, her voice echoing across the courtyard. "Your daughter just threw a heavy object through her window! The glass shattered and fell right on Victoria while she was standing below! She's been severely injured!"
Liora's heart sank. She looked at the ground and saw Victoria standing nearby, a small cut on her face that was bleeding. Victoria was looking at her with a look of pure triumph.
"I'm sorry for the trouble, Mrs. Preston—" Liora's mother tried to say, but Diana wasn't having it.
"Sorry? That's all you have to say? My daughter was supposed to be the bride! She was chosen first!" Diana tried to push past the Duchess to get to Liora.
A commotion started as the guests crowded around them.
"Maybe she got the prince to choose her by opening her legs for him!" someone whispered from the crowd.
"She's just an old lady with no suitors. She must have been desperate."
Victoria stepped forward and grabbed Liora's dress. Her eyes were full of hate. "My mother is right! I've known you my whole life, Liora. You're a liar and a pretender! You have no dignity left!"
"Let go of me!" Liora finally found her voice. She felt like she was drowning in their lies. They were making her out to be a monster, and all she could do was stand there. She wanted to fight back, but what was the point? She only had a month to live.
"Liora! Tell them they're wrong!" her father roared from the edge of the crowd. He looked embarrassed and angry.
Liora looked at the guests. She saw the doubt in their eyes. They were already believing the Prestons. They thought she was a jealous, crazy woman who had ruined her best friend's face.
She looked at Victoria, the girl she had shared all her secrets with. This was betrayal. It was a cold, bitter betrayal that hurt more than the thought of dying.
"Liora," her mother whispered, her voice full of disappointment.
That was the final blow. Her own mother doubted her. Liora had always been the perfect daughter, but now, a few lies from a jealous friend had ruined everything.
"What would be the point of denying it?" Liora asked, a single tear trailing down her cheek. "I have a few days to live. Why does any of this matter to you?"
Victoria sneered and grabbed a glass of wine from a nearby guest. She threw it right at Liora, the red liquid soaking into her gown.
Victoria had always been jealous of Liora. She hated that Liora had everything she wanted. She had been the one to start the rumors that Liora was "old" and "unwanted."
"I hope you rot," Victoria whispered, a cold smirk on her face.
Liora stood tall, even as the wine dripped down her dress. She could feel his presence again—Rowan. It was as if he was still watching her, laughing at her humiliation. She wasn't going to wait until the morning. She wasn't going to stay in this house where no one believed her.
"I'll take my leave now if you all will permit me," Liora said, her voice clear and strong. She curtsied to the guests, her stained red gown sweeping the stone floor. "My husband awaits me."
The courage came from nowhere, but she felt it. She wouldn't stay here to be mocked. She would leave tonight, for good. She walked away from the lights and the music, heading toward a dark future that she knew she wouldn't survive. But at least she wouldn't have to look at Victoria's face ever again.