Chapter One

Camilla clutched the delicate fabric tightly, as Hilda's scissors sliced through it.

Surprisingly one of the young maidens ran into the room, announcing the chaos in the chamber and how the king was looking for her.

"What? Me?" Camilla's brows knitted together in confusion, her face etched with a deep frown.

Her father never summoned her until her Uncle came to visit or esteemed guests expressed a desire to meet all eight of his daughters.

She had never been alone in the same space with the king. The man even treated her like an eyesore.

She was unaware of any visitors, and It was almost midnight. She thought her father would've retired for the night already. "What could be keeping him up at this time of the night?"

"If the royal butler, or whoever he had sent should see me engaged in dressmaking with Hilda, the consequences would be too dire for both of us. I hope the king hasn't found out already." Camilla mused in worry.

The noblewoman had taken it upon herself to teach this skill to Camilla, and it would be unbearable for her if she caused any trouble for this kind soul.

Camilla knew she had to leave the room quickly, and Hilda noticed it too. She quickly snatched the fabric from Camilla and began measuring her body.

Aware of the mounting urgency, Camilla hurriedly released the thread she had been holding with the fabric, her gaze darting towards the window in search of any lurking guards.

To her relief, none were in sight.

If she were caught outside, she could make up a story about gathering flowers from the garden for herself, using the false excuse one of her half-sisters always used when she returned from meeting her lover.

But everyone knew Camilla had no love for flowers. What other option did she have?

As urgent footsteps sounded outside the door, Camilla knew she had little time to decide.

Whoever her father had sent was already here, and she needed to think fast.

She weighed the risks and concluded that being seen outside was preferable to being seen in the room.

Without hesitation, she pushed herself through the window, landing on the floor with a loud and painful thud.

It took all the self-restraint she'd mastered over the years, to prevent her from screaming in pain. Then again, a low yelp escaped her lips.

In the very instant she made her escape, the door swung open, revealing the arrival of the person her father had sent.

Camilla's racing heart steadied slightly as a sigh of relief escaped her lips. "Whew! That was close!"

Though her ankle throbbed with pain from the impulsive jump, she pushed forward, hobbling her way past the large gates.

The guards stationed by the grand entrance had witnessed her daring escape.

As Camilla approached them, she quickened her pace, mustering a slight bow as they obligingly opened the gates to grant her entry.

Laughter erupted from their lips, familiar with her often jumping out from widows.

That had become her habit—a reckless pattern she had repeated severally. However, no one ever thought they needed to report her to the king.

The young lady had already endured enough hardships. If jumping through windows made her happy, they would gladly look the other way.

"Camilla, the king is searching for you. He seems very furious!" The servants nodded in unison, their faces displaying a mix of concern and fear on her behalf.

She was just a princess by birth to her family, not that she cared anyway since she avoided the expected norms of her title, choosing to live like a commoner.

Camilla and the servants couldn't understand why the king was so furious by her absence and expected her to languish in her chamber when looking for her.

The tension in the air was obvious, Camilla's mind racing as she contemplated the reason behind their frantic search.

Perhaps the matter at hand was what was driving them crazy.

With a heavy sigh, she nodded at the concerned onlookers, acknowledging their urgency as she hastened towards her father's chamber.

Each step brought her closer, and her heart pounded with a mix of fear and curiosity.

As the guards announced her arrival, Camilla held her breath, silently praying that her father would dismiss her, signaling his desire to have no further dealings with her.

But her hopes were shattered when he summoned her inside, his voice piercing through the thick silence that enveloped the hall.

"I'm here, Father," Camilla's voice quivered, a tremor of nervousness betraying her composure as she entered the chambers.

Her father had shed his regal ornaments, his royal garments replaced with the simple attire worn by regular fathers.

To the citizens, it was ordinary clothing, but to her father, the king of the Hul Kingdom, it was an outfit reserved for sleep.

This was not the first time she had stepped into his chambers, but it was the first time she saw him stripped of his kingly facade, and transformed into an ordinary man before her eyes.

"Go and pack your belongings. You are to be married off to the Luke household," her father uttered, his gaze fixed elsewhere, refusing to meet her eyes.

The weight of his words settled heavily upon her, and shock etched itself across Camilla's features, sending tremors coursing through her body.

She stood there, trembling with a mix of confusion and horror.

Was he marrying her to a man she didn't love?

Who in the Luke household was she being forcibly wedded to anyway? If there were a title involved, surely her father would have mentioned it instead of referring to the family itself.

Questions swirled in her mind, whirling like a tempest, leaving her need for answers.

The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. "You are to marry the youngest of Duke Hayford's children," her father continued his words echoing in her ears.

Camilla's initial response bordered on disbelief, threatening the laughter that was on her lips.

'Could my father truly be serious? The youngest child of Duke Hayford? George Luke? Is he not already married to three wives? Is this my father's desperate attempt to marry off all his eight daughters, sacrificing us to save himself?

Why would he wake a hungry dog when he knew he had no food to give it? When my father had sent a bet to the Ice King, did he not grasp the dire consequences of his actions?

And now, is he subjecting me to a miserable life? I already grew up with seven half-sisters who treated me like I was an outsider, hating me for no reason.

Did my father want me to be a fourth wife to make my life more miserable?

Wait, is he even marrying off all his daughters? Or is it just me?' The realization struck her like a blow, unraveling her thoughts as she pondered the possibilities.

'Or could it be that George had seized this opportunity to convince my father to arrange this marriage?

George has been begging me behind my father's back to allow him to court me even before I was eighteen.

I have always turned him down. Who would marry that man anyway? I am still shocked that he has three women who married him. They already look miserable.

What would be my fate, now that I am set to be his fourth wife? Wouldn't he torture me, just like…? Wouldn't I live a sad and boring life? One that would turn me into a bitter and miserable woman?'

"No! I won't do it."