The Masked Princess Bound To The King She Hates

The wedding bells were ringing, but to Princess Ella who was soon to be a Queen they sounded like a death knell instead of a merry one.

At the altar, with her face concealed by a beautiful mask, her heart beat with a will that not even any other person in the room could possibly understand.

Today, she was more than just a bride. She was a force to be reckoned with.

She held the bouquet tighter with her fingers and looked up at the man who was waiting to see her at the end of the aisle. King Augustine. The same man who had put terror in the hearts of all in the empire. The man she had vowed to destroy.

He was a tall, calm man, whose face was a mystery, and who, without any effort, was able to draw the attention of everyone in the hall. When his eyes looked in her face it was keen and uncompromising, as though he read through the mask she was wearing.

Princess Ella kept her head, and would not fall. Not today. Not ever.

Because this marriage? It was never intended to be genuine. It was a carefully planned conspiracy--a calculated step toward her revenge. And before he knew who she was, it would be too late.

The veil was very thick and covered her face, and the lace touched her lips with every breath. The mask was icy against her skin below, concealing the single fact that might jeopardize all that she valued. The great hall which enclosed her was glittering with gold and candlelight. Massive columns rose to a painted ceiling, and chandeliers glistened like stars in a net. The place was filled with nobles, and their whispers were like a troubled wind.

They watched her. Judging her. Pondering her true identity.

A princess of a deposed dynasty. A political pawn. An outsider in disguise as a queen.

The last vows were uttered, and Princess Ella bowed her head, her fingers clenching on the material of her dress. The silk was fine and richly embroidered, and was supposed to represent riches and authority...to her it was like shackles.

She could not dare to see the man next her. She resolutely refused to.

King Augustine.

Just thinking of his name sent a shiver down her spine.

Three years ago his army had invaded her kingdom with ruthless violence. The palace which she once called home had been burned down in flames and the odor of smoke lingered days. The marble floors on which she used to play as a child were stained with blood. At daylight all that she had known was gone, everything. except for her.

Her home. Her people. Her family. Everything... except for her.

"Raise your head."

His voice broke through her mind...soothing, deliberate, unheedable.

Princess Ella drew a deep breath and raised her head. The veil was still over her face, but she could feel it...the steadiness of his gaze, implacable and unyielding, as a