The Starlight Heir

I stare at myself in the mirrored glass.

Glistening gems drip from the top of my veil to the top of my chest in a beaded curtain. The embroidered jacket over my undertunic is fitted, handsewn with exquisite pearls and rubies, tapering to my waist and then flaring out in wide, gold-dusted panels to the knees of its matching undergown.

Unlike the sheer golden outfit I’d worn for Javed’s engagement farce, these wedding garments are heavy and crimson. From the translucent scarlet covering my bejeweled hair to the tips of my ruby slippers, I am a bride dressed in blood. A sacrificial lamb. Though not one being led to the slaughter. I’m willingly going there with my eyes wide open.

I’ve thought about trying to find Amma for real and blasting our way out with magic, but I don’t know exactly where her room is in this maze of a citadel. My stardust simurgh form had passed through walls and floors. All I remember is that she had been in the northern section of the palace, near what looked like servants’ quarters. Attempting escape would be a risky gamble with time I don’t have.