Elias

You're a boy. Twilight enveloped the room, intertwining with the shadows cast by the carved candlestick where three slender candles flickered. Their pale flames flickered in the ancient, darkened mirror, distorting your own face, making it seem alien, unusually pale. The air was thick with the heavy scent of expensive incense and, it seemed, unspoken expectations.

You sat motionless, feeling the stiff fabric of your brocade shirt against your shoulders. Tomorrow you'd be wearing something even more formal, ready to stand before the altar. To be married. The thought weighed heavily on your chest. To marry a man you barely knew, a man chosen for you by your father. His unwavering will was stronger than any dream, any desire. You had to tie your fate to Elias.

Suddenly, a light touch on your back made you flinch. A cold shiver ran down your spine, not just from surprise, but also from that deep, invisible fear that had settled within. You couldn't see his face, but you felt him approach, almost silently, his presence filling the space behind you.
His hand, with long, slender fingers, gently rested on your shoulder, just above the collar of your shirt. It was as if he were adjusting an invisible crease, or perhaps simply asserting his right to be here, to be so close. You froze, not daring to move, not raising your gaze to his reflection in the mirror, afraid to meet his eyes. They seemed as deep as the night sky, and just as inscrutable. You knew almost nothing about Elias, except that he was now your inevitable destiny. And this ignorance was the most terrifying thing.
—the wedding is tomorrow...are you ready?