Chapter 1
I knew he would have come up with some weird idea for me. But I would never have thought of that. "Keep calm, sister," he kept telling me. I wished I could just see his face right now. Was he scared? His voice had never been, but he couldn't possibly have never felt fear. Everyone had. He had to. I had. Maybe so hard sometimes that I was scared demons would feel mine. I remembered how it all started...
A voice was suddenly heard. My father. I recognized his tone which had condemned so many people to death. "Didyme, honey, your future husband."
I felt my brother's hand on my arm. Lucky he was there, looking out for me or I never would have made it. He had convinced me to accept the marriage. Without saying a word even though I didn't like the guy at all. How could I? I barely knew him. I couldn't see him—not that I wouldn't want to—but from what my dearest brother, Aro, had told me, the chosen one was handsome—why would I care if he were handsome or not? It didn't change anything for me, I still couldn't see him, I still wouldn't be able to enjoy his beauty. Rich boy from great family. Good choice, good future for me and my family. Good alliance. But I just didn't feel it. And they hadn't even bothered to tell me his name.
Aro hit me lightly with his elbow, straight in the ribs. It surprised me, but I knew what he meant by that. I put up a smile on my lovely—as everyone kept saying—face. Aro took my hand and my finger reached some others that were not familiar to me. I shivered. I started panicking when I felt my brother's hand leaving mine. I was left alone, hand-in-hand with my husband-to-be. I must have been really pretty because I had no idea why he had agreed to marry me. I doubted it was as beneficial for his family—and himself—as it was for me and my own family. I would be rich by marrying him. That I knew. And even though our family didn't need money—we were rich enough—my father wanted the status. My future husband's father was a king. Which could make my family royal. I knew he would do everything possible to make it happen. Even if it meant I had to marry a guy I disliked. Power. Almost the only thing he was interested in. Except maybe for me. He had some kind of special thing for me. Something he had with no one else, which often scared me to death but I never said a word about it to anyone. Was it shame? It could have been. But, I had been lucky in my misfortune because he never truly did it all. I had to be a virgin for the wedding night. He knew that and I was afraid to think that it might have been the only thing keeping him away from truly doing it. But, still, I wasn't so sure he would have done it: he never really tried.
I could hear my dad telling my husband-to-be so many things which half of them were probably lies. He talked about me and about how happy he was about our wedding. I didn't know if I really was as grateful as he pretended. Probably not. How could I be? I barely knew the boy I was about to marry. Boy. He wasn't a boy, according to my brother, he was 23. He was a man. For that, I was lucky he was young. Only two years older than I was. At least, he was young. Even if he hadn't been young, I would have been forced to marry him. Just like I had been compelled to accept this one. My brother had convinced me—with my sister's help—but even if I had said no, the wedding would not have been canceled. "Aren't you happy, sister?" my brother voice's asked. "I am thrilled for you."
I knew I should have been. My head turned to where I had heard him. I still didn't know if I was looking straight at him but, I was used to it, I was used to not knowing where I was and who I was looking at. A small smile on my lips. "I couldn't be happier," I deliberately lied. He couldn't know I wasn't ready. He had helped me before and now it was my turn. Maybe that was why I had accepted so quickly. I knew he had fell in love with that girl. She wasn't rich and she had not a slight drop of blue blood in hers. But she was really sweet. I had met her twice and she never once mentioned my handicap which people never forgot to remind me. Maybe she was just being kind or vulpine, but I wanted my brother to be happy. I knew he would never find anyone like her ever again. The way he talked about her, there was this sweetness in his tone whenever he thought of her, or whenever she was around. I had never heard my brother being like this. He used to be so rough, but with her, he wasn't. He was like a defenseless puppy, willing to get his heartbroken, trusting her not to. And if he did trust her, I did, too, and I had to make sure they would get the happy ending they were supposed to get. Besides, I could give them the dreamy life. The one they wanted. Money would not be a problem and they didn't need me to be happy. They had each other and it was more than enough. I couldn't be the one breaking all of this. I would never be able to forgive myself otherwise. Aro had claimed he would forgive me if I had refused to marry the guy. But I couldn't let things get there. It was my duty to do it. As the youngest sibling. As the one with whom everyone had been so sweet. I had never been grounded, never been yelled at and to almost everything I dared to ask, the answer was a big "yes." And I had done nothing for that. My siblings fought hard for the same permissions and I had had them without having to answer to a single question. Now I realized how unfair it had been for them. So many sacrifices they all had made. Except for me. It was my turn now and I would not fail. "I am glad to hear this," my father said and I stopped thinking to focus on whatever they had to say.
I shook my head; I had no idea what had been going on. I still felt the guy's—I didn't even know his name—hand in mine. Lucky he was there, or I would have been left alone in the dark. What a stupid metaphor. You're always in the dark. I tried not to let that thought destroy the smile I had put on. I couldn't think of that or I would cry. Why me? Thinking about it now, maybe that was why I had been the luckiest of them all. With my … illness—some would call it misfortune—pity wasn't something you couldn't get from everyone else. That was all I got. Pity. I hated it, of course—who would?—but I had to deal with it every single day. Pretend it didn't bother me to be unable to dress, to do my hair or make-up all by myself. Or even bathe! I needed someone but I had always thought no one would want me. I was useless, unable to cook: no one ever taught me—and let's face it, they couldn't! I could burn myself to death, or scald. There was too much risks in a kitchen for me. I was just really useless. There had been one thing I had never told my brother: I sort of wanted to get engaged too—but maybe not with his dear prince but I had no other choice. He would be my one and only option. No one else would be nice enough to want me, too. No doubt about it, not even the slightest. "Honey."
I turned my head, surprised and confused. Was that person talking to me? I was never sure. The voice was unknown, but there was a little something familiar about it. Since no one was answering, I figured that I was "honey." I was about to answer when the royal voice of my oldest sister broke the silence. "Didyme, he is talking to you. You mind being police and answer?"
I smiled. "Sorry, I wasn't so sure he was talking to me."
"Of course he was," my father exclaimed.
I didn't dare to ask who called me like that. According to their reactions, I should have known already. "What is it?" I asked politely.
"Your father thinks we should get to know each other," he said—again, that voice. "I figured we should dance. Dance always makes people get closer."
That sentence could have been misinterpreted. But his tone, so... pure could not have made us think in a dirty way. I nodded. "You're right, but I am not a big fan of dancing. I'm guessing you know why."
"Being blind is not an excuse," he told me. "I will make you dance like you never had before." In a way, how he talked about my illness almost made me smile for real. I had always been pity my entire life. Of course being blind was an excuse. Father would have never let me ridicule in front of his people. It was encumbrance for him and I bet he was happy to know that I wasn't going to be a dead weight for him anymore. What I was condemned to do, according to Father, was just stay still, smile and be pretty. If I had listened to him my entire life, there was nothing I could do. I'd be the toy who couldn't expose him for what he truly was because … what proof did I have? Nothing, I couldn't see who had harassed me. That's all I was good at, according to him. But I would prove him wrong. And maybe, maybe this prince, whoever he was, wouldn't treat me the way they all did before. Truly, I doubted it because people were so ignorant about what they didn't know, what they hadn't experimented. None of them had lived without seeing the light for 21 years. How could they possibly know what it was like? They didn't know anything about it.
Of course he'd make me dance like never before. I had never really danced before. Too complicated, too overwhelming, for someone like me, as I had been told.
He took my hand and put it on his arm—I guessed it was his arm. Then, he started to walk and I followed him. When he stopped, he probably turned around, and he grabbed my wrist. I swallowed a little scream. His hands were strangers to my body. He lifted me up and he put me down on what I supposed was his feet because it wasn't really comfortable and I felt something moving under my own shoes. Then, music was heard and he started to dance. I was holding on to him as tightly as he was holding on to me. "Don't worry," he said as if he had smelled my fear. "I won't let you fall."
And I believed him. Maybe it was that something in his voice, but I felt like I could trust him. Maybe I was wrong to think that, but I wasn't able to have any other thought. I had never could have imagined that dancing was so … pleasant. For once, I felt like I could move my body the way I wanted to without being scared of hitting someone or something. His entire body was pressed against mine and it was bizarre because I had never been as closed to anyone. But at the same time, I only felt like smiling because … I was dancing. I was doing something Father had told me I could never ever do and I was doing it. Right now, right here, right in front of his eyes. It was probably one of the most wave of ecstatic feeling I had ever felt.
And my prince was right; he didn't let me fall. At the end of the song, he carefully put me back on the ground. And after that, not once he let go on my hand. He was always so cautious with me, never pulling my hand too hard, always waiting for me to find the way by myself instead of leading me to the right way. As if he was telling me that I could do it, that I could do anything, that I didn't need someone to take care of me.
I almost jumped when I felt his lips close to my ear, at the end of the night. "I can't wait for us to be married. I will take good care of you, I promise." he whispered.
I smiled. Maybe I really had found the one.