A soft knock at the door roused me from the depths of sleep, and I blinked groggily as the heavy silence of the chamber settled around me. For a moment, disoriented and still tangled in half-remembered dreams, I thought it might be Jane, come to wake me as she often did. But as I slowly pushed myself upright, I found Marcus standing near the door, his expression composed as always, but his presence somehow gentler in the dim morning light filtering through the curtains.

"Good morning, Bella," Marcus murmured, his voice as smooth as flowing water. "Jane and Alec left to hunt before you woke. I thought it best to wake you myself."

I ran a hand through my tangled hair, trying to shake off the lingering haze of sleep. "Oh. Right. Thanks."

Marcus inclined his head slightly before stepping closer, his hands clasped behind his back. "There is news. Aro has set the date for the ball. It will take place in just a few days."

My stomach clenched. A few days. That was all the time I had left before the world I had so carefully balanced came crashing down around me. Carlisle, at the very least, had been close with the Volturi before, meaning...

They're coming. They have to be.

The thought sent a rush of cold panic through my veins, the weight of all my carefully woven lies pressing down on my chest. My mind was safe, as far as I could tell, but if any of them spoke my name- no, if any of them touched Aro's hand, the Volturi would know everything that had happened prior.

And then we would all die.

My hands curled into fists against the silken sheets, the urge to flee surging through me like a living thing. It was instinctive, primal—the desperate need to escape before I was caught in a trap of my own making. But the rational part of me knew it was impossible. I was human. There was nowhere I could run where the Volturi wouldn't find me. And even if I did try…

Marcus' voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, steady and grounding. "Bella."

I startled slightly, glancing up at him, only to find his gaze fixed on me with quiet scrutiny. "You are terrified."

It wasn't a question. He had felt it—seen it written in the tension of my body, the rapid beat of my heart.

I forced myself to breathe, to school my expression into something more manageable. "I—" I hesitated, searching for words, for an excuse. "I guess I just… I know there will be a lot of vampires there. Vampires I don't know. It's overwhelming."

Marcus studied me for a long moment, as if weighing the truth in my words. He was quiet in a way that unsettled me—not because it was cold, but because it felt like he was seeing far more than I was saying. The way he stared at me felt imposing, as if he knew there was more I wasn't saying.

Then, finally, he nodded. "That is understandable. It is a rare thing for so many of our kind to gather. But you are under our protection, Bella. No harm will come to you."

I swallowed hard, wanting so desperately to believe him. And yet, no matter how much I trusted Marcus, I knew he didn't understand. Couldn't understand. Because the greatest threat in this castle was not some unknown vampire with a thirst for human blood.

Once they found out everything, then in their eyes, it would be me.

I opened my mouth, almost—almost—ready to say it. To tell him the truth. That I wasn't some unfortunate human who had stumbled into their world by accident, the one immortal I had known prior being long dead at the hands of the Volturi. That I had come here because I knew who they were. Because I had been loved by a vampire. Because I had loved one in return, hard, but in the end he had left me, and not only that - left me alive, knowing their secret. I wanted so badly to tell him everything in that moment - to finally spill the entire story to someone within these walls that I had come to trust. The desperation in my eyes must have been evident.

But fear held me back. Fear of what he would say.

Fear of what he would do.

Instead, I dropped my gaze, pressing my lips together in a tight line. "I'll be fine."

Marcus remained silent for a long moment, but he didn't press. He studied my face a moment longer, frustration showing in his features as he furrowed his brow.

"Very well," he murmured, though something in his voice told me he wasn't convinced. "Come. You should eat."

I forced myself to nod, swallowing down the lump of words that had nearly escaped. The truth would have to stay buried for now. Because as much as I wanted to trust Marcus, as much as I felt drawn to him in ways I didn't understand, I knew I couldn't tell him, at least not yet.

The dining hall was quiet when Marcus and I arrived. A single figure sat at the long, elegant table, her posture poised and regal. Sulpicia.

She looked up as we entered, a small smile gracing her lips. "Ah, Bella, just the person I wished to see."

I hesitated, glancing at Marcus warily, who gave the smallest of nods before leading me toward the table. I slid into a seat across from Sulpicia as Marcus took his place beside me, though I noticed that his gaze seemed distant, lost in some quiet contemplation.

Sulpicia reached for a set of papers beside her, fanning them out gracefully across the table. I leaned forward slightly, my curiosity piqued. They were sketches—intricate and elegant designs of flowing gowns, each one more breathtaking than the last.

"I have been thinking," she said smoothly, her voice rich with satisfaction, "that something truly stunning should be created for you to wear to the ball. These are some of the designs I have considered. Tell me, dear one, what do you think?"

I traced a fingertip over the delicate lines of one of the sketches, my mind struggling to keep up. The dresses were stunning—far beyond anything I had ever worn. Silks and lace, gemstones woven into bodices, trailing skirts that would move like liquid with every step.

"They're beautiful," I admitted, unable to hide my awe.

Sulpicia beamed, pleased. "I hoped you would think so. This is a rare occasion, after all, especially for a mortal. It is only fitting that you look the part."

I swallowed hard, a fresh wave of unease curling in my stomach. The ball felt more real with every passing second, looming over me like a storm cloud. But Sulpicia's excitement was infectious, and as she continued discussing fabrics and colors, I found myself drawn in despite the knot of anxiety coiled in my chest.

I glanced at Marcus, expecting some input, but he remained silent, his gaze distant, his brow slightly furrowed. He was thinking deeply about something, though whether it was the ball or something else entirely, I couldn't tell.

I forced my attention back to Sulpicia. "This one," I murmured, pointing to a sketch of a deep blue gown with intricate embroidery along the sleeves and a flowing skirt. "It's… perfect."

Sulpicia's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "A wonderful choice. I will begin preparations at once."

She gathered the sketches with swift precision, standing gracefully before giving me a final nod of approval. "I will leave you to your breakfast. Enjoy your morning, Bella."

Then, with the same ethereal grace she always carried, she vanished down the hall, her excitement tangible as she skipped away, happy with herself. The sound of her footsteps faded into the distance, leaving Marcus and me alone in the quiet of the grand hall. The silence that followed was heavy.

I slowly turned to face Marcus, assessing his expression. He was still lost in thought, and I felt a prick of unease. My mind kept spinning, worrying over possibilities—had he pieced something together? Was he starting to suspect the truth?

I cleared my throat lightly, the sound somehow echoing in the empty space between us. "You're quiet."

Marcus blinked, as if pulled from his reverie, and then turned his gaze toward me. For a moment, he simply studied me. Then, finally, he sighed, shaking his head. "Simply lost in thought." He looked as if there was something more he wanted to say, but he didn't continue any further, which was just as much a relief for me as it was anxiety-inducing.

I nodded, trying to tamp down my paranoia as I pressed further. "About the ball?"

He didn't answer right away, but when he finally spoke, his voice was softer, seeming more calculated this time.

"In a way. You seem… uneasy about it. More than I would even expect." Marcus was silent for a moment after he spoke, his gaze still fixed on me. I could feel him studying me, analyzing every word, every gesture, and I fought the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. "You've been around vampires before," he said finally, his voice quiet but probing. "You've adapted well to our world. But this… this feels different. Why?"

I felt the weight of his words press against me, but I didn't answer, and I didn't dare ask him any further questions either. Because whatever thoughts Marcus was trapped in, I feared they might not be too different from my own.

For a long moment, we sat together in silence as he turned inward, back to his own thoughts. And then, without another word, Marcus got up and walked away, leaving me alone in the grand dining hall. As I picked at my breakfast - that had long gone cold during the discussion with Sulpicia - I found myself feeling both fragile and alone within the castle walls for the first time in days.

Over the coming days leading up to the ball, Marcus and I fell into a quiet routine together, allowing Jane the time to resume the usual duties she surely had had before I arrived. Using textbooks - provided by Caius, surprisingly - I had begun studying the most basic of Italian, fumbling over myself and the words as I tried to delve into learning.

The routine gave me something to cling to through my anxiety of the upcoming events, but as the ball drew closer over the next days, I found myself becoming more worried as I kept wondering if the Cullens would be on the guest list. Marcus was often quiet himself throughout these days, seeming consistently lost in thought, and it wasn't entirely lost on me that he would often leave to speak with Aro - about what, I could only begin to guess.

I found my stomach turning every time I thought about Aro - he had been kind, for the most part, since I had arrived, but I knew that the kindness that had been extended to me came with conditions. Conditions I had already broken to begin with, even if he didn't know yet. I couldn't read his mind, just as he couldn't read mine, and the growing list of unknowns left me terrified.

Part of me would find myself wondering solemnly if the ball in its' entirety was a cleverly calculated ruse of his, to gain access to the thoughts of the Cullens and quell his suspicions that we had had far greater contact than simply living within the same area - suspicions that he would easily uncover were well-founded on his part. My stomach turned as I imagined all the scenarios Aro had surely perfectly orchestrated to gain the answers he wanted. As the ball drew closer, I thought more of the stories that I had heard of the Volturi through Edward and Carlisle, and despite how they seemed almost familial as I had come to know them in my short time here, images of their violence and bloodshed once again played behind my eyelids.

Images of the possible events that would come afterward would keep me awake at night as I tossed and turned, trying to imagine any way out of the upcoming, seemingly now inevitable, chaos.