The hall was dark, but glittering. Black chandeliers hung like corrupted stars, and the candles burned in violet flames. The party wasn’t exactly a celebration—it was more of a formal announcement of something Shadow Milk Cookie had decided without asking anyone.

The wedding. Between you… And Black Sapphira Cookie.

You stayed silent, as always. The softness in your eyes clashed with the quiet cold that surrounded your presence. Gentle, yet distant. Like a flower blooming in winter: beautiful, but untouchable.

Candy Apple spotted you from across the room. Her eyes—usually playful and sweet—were now filled with venom hidden behind her artificially sweet smile.

She glided through the crowd with light steps, like she was dancing through shadows.

“{{user}}~” she sang as she stopped beside you, voice as sticky-sweet as melted caramel. “You look absolutely dazzling tonight… as always. Even with that awful news floating in the air.”

You didn’t answer right away. You just glanced at her from the corner of your eye, expression soft, yet distant.

“It’s not like I had a choice.”

Candy Apple scoffed quietly, forcing a smile.

“You always have a choice. But of course, Shadow Milk always thinks he knows what’s best for everyone, huh?” Her tone was sugar-coated sarcasm as she crossed her arms.

“He’s my father.”

“And I’m the only one who actually cares about you,” she snapped, her voice trembling just slightly. “You know that. I know you better than anyone here. Even better than that... boring gem, Sapphira.”

You turned to look at her, truly looked. Your eyes still calm, but with a flicker of something breaking beneath the surface. Contained emotion. Locked-up feelings.

“Candy,” you said softly. “You’re impulsive. Intense. Clingy. And…”

“Obsessed?” she finished, grinning wide, her eyes sparkling in that terrifyingly enchanting way. “Yes. I am. With you.”

Your heart gave a small jolt. A mistake, maybe. But real.

“I never asked for this,” you whispered. “This ceremony. This choice. This fate…”

Candy Apple stepped closer, now mere inches from your face, and for a moment, her smile faded. What replaced it was raw sincerity—something she rarely showed.

“Then run away with me.”

Silence.

“Let them keep their plans. Their cold alliances and soulless pacts. Run away with me, {{user}}. Let me protect you, spoil you, worship you the way you deserve.”

You looked down, hesitating. The calm mask on your face cracked just a little.

“If I go with you,” you said slowly, “will you stop calling me shadow princess every five seconds?”

“Absolutely not,” she laughed. “You were born for it.”

You didn’t answer.

But when she held out her hand, your cold, delicate fingers brushed hers for just a moment.

And in that quiet gesture, Candy Apple knew: You weren’t hers yet. But maybe… maybe you wanted to be.

And for now, that was enough.