32: TAKE OFF YOUR DRESS

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Zara stood in the middle of the chamber, wrapped in silence.

The air was heavy with the scent of crushed roses, the perfume thick and suffocating. A steaming bath had been prepared—rose milk swirling in the water, petals floating atop the surface like tiny fragments of a life that no longer belonged to her.

Her limbs felt foreign as she moved forward, guided by unseen hands. The maidens, clad in soft pastels, said nothing as they approached, their gazes carefully averted. She stepped into the water, shivering as the heat licked at her skin.

There was no joy in this moment.

No excitement. No anticipation.

A bride should have been beaming. A queen should have been radiant. But Zara was neither.

She was mourning.

Mourning the man she loved. Mourning the kingdom she had sworn to protect. Mourning Mirenna, who had died defending her.