"The carriage is here, ladies," Mr. Brentford—Ariana's father—called out hastily as the palace-sent carriage waited outside. It was one good thing the palace did: providing carriages for all who would be attending.
"Just a second, Father," Ava replied as she stepped out. Her brown curls tumbled down her back, and she wore a red gown that hugged her figure in all the right places. The body-hugging dress emphasized every curve, and she walked carefully in a pair of high heels rented from a nearby shop—which, of course, had to be returned after tonight.
"Ariana, how many more hours—" their father began, but stopped abruptly as Ariana stepped out.
He fell silent.
She wore a royal blue gown that flowed freely, unlike Ava's dress which clung to every inch. Likely the reason Ava hadn't picked this one. But Ariana was grateful. She was two weeks pregnant now not like it showed, and the dress was perfect: modest, comfortable, and elegant. The fabric shimmered softly in the light, her long, wavy golden-blonde hair glistening with golden and blue hairpins that matched the gown. From the knees down, the dress fanned out into layers of glittering royal-blue netting.
Ava's eyes widened. She hadn't expected the gown to be that beautiful. In fact, she hadn't even bothered to unfold it before judging.
"Ariana… how did you get hairpins? They didn't give me any," she asked, her voice edged with poorly hidden jealousy. She hadn't expected Ariana's dress to be so striking. If she had known, she would've taken it for herself. Why hadn't she? Not to mention the hairpins—they looked expensive.
Ariana was going to outshine her. She couldn't let that happen. Never.
She's pregnant. No one will look at her, Ava reassured herself inwardly, calming down just a little.
Then, as Ariana lifted her hand to sign, Ava muttered with a smirk, as if just remembering, "Oh right, she's mute too."
Ariana signed clearly:
I found it inside the fold of the gown.
Ava cut in quickly, brushing it off. "It doesn't matter. Let's go. The carriage is waiting."
Ariana simply nodded as their father opened the door for them. They stepped out of the cottage and walked toward the waiting carriage.
The sunset had already bloomed across the sky, signaling that nightfall was near.
As they climbed into the carriage and the soft clatter of the horses' hooves filled the air, a quiet breath escaped Ariana's lips. The Moon Goddess had truly made a way for her.
She thought back to how she'd managed to meet the exact neighbor she once borrowed a shovel from—begging just for water she had used to bathe. The villagers had long since given their family a nickname:
"The Borrowers."
At some point, people had forgotten their real names. That was all they were known as.
Ariana gazed out of the carriage window, her eyes fixed on the trees as the golden hues of the setting sun filtered through the leaves. The view from her seat was perfect—the way the sunlight kissed the treetops made everything look magical. Why is nature always so breathtaking? she wondered softly. It was calm, peaceful, and endlessly satisfying.
Beside her, Ava sat next to their father. For some reason, when Ava turned to look at Ariana, an unexpected surge of anger bubbled inside her. Her blood boiled. Why does she look so good? Ava hadn't expected this—not from Ariana.
She knew her sister was beautiful—which she hated—but today, why did it seem as if it had intensified?
Their father's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Ava, make sure to act your best. I sent you to that school to prepare perfectly for this day. Do not mess it up," he said firmly, his tone serious and direct.
"Yes, Father," Ava replied calmly.
Ariana knew exactly what they were talking about. A year ago, their father had sent Ava to train at the village school of etiquette, firmly believing she would one day marry a noble. He was still in debt to the school, owing them a few gold coins—and had even promised to pay more once Ava got married, as a thank-you for their efforts.
While Ava had spent that year learning to behave like a lady, Ariana had been left with all the household responsibilities. She cooked, cleaned, did laundry—everything. When their father was away at council meetings for days at a time, Ariana would wake up early, do her chores, and afterward, sneak away to the village library.
There, she devoured every book she could find. She borrowed many, reading late into the night by the dim glow of a small, cracked lantern.
Today was a crucial day—if Ava didn't manage to catch the attention of a noble or the Alpha she claimed to feel a connection with, their father would be doomed. He owed many people and had promised to repay them—along with interest—once his daughter successfully courted a nobleman. That was his plan for tonight.
"Father," Ava spoke quietly, "are we both going to the ball, or will Ariana be taken somewhere else… for punishment?"
Her father turned to her, and she quickly added, "I wouldn't want that. At least let her be there while I meet him."
He nodded. "You don't have to worry. Your sister will be there. You think about others a lot, Ava. That's why you have such a good heart."
"Father, don't say that," Ava scolded lightly, pouting in mock annoyance. "The only pure heart is the Moon Goddess."
Her father chuckled and nodded. "Well, after the Moon Goddess… I'm quite sure it's you."
As soon as those words left his lips, Ariana finally turned from the window, her gaze landing directly on Ava's. There was a quiet grace in her golden eyes.
Then, Ariana smiled softly—and gave her sister a slow, deliberate wink.
Ava's eyes widened in disbelief. Did she just…? Her sister had never done that before. Her chest tightened.
"Father," she said quickly, her voice sharp with a hint of malice, "why does no one know she's pregnant? What if someone shows interest? They won't even know she's carrying someone else's child… or that she had a dead ex-husband." She spoke even though she knew the answers.
Ariana froze. Her lips trembled ever so slightly—and that tiny reaction was all Ava needed.
Her confidence returned instantly.
Her father's expression darkened.
"Who says no one knows?" he snapped. "Are you not aware that once the council knows, the villagers know?"
He turned to Ariana, his jaw tightening in frustration. Sitting upright now, he carefully adjusted his posture—clearly trying not to wrinkle his borrowed black suit, white shirt, and pants. Even his shoes had been borrowed.
"Ariana," he said sharply, "you will not embarrass me. If the king speaks to you, you respond with a respectful nod—do not repeat what you did at the council that day. Your sister's reputation is on the line as well."
Ariana looked down, her fingers clutching the fabric of her dress. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, her silence heavy and full of pain.
Ava's body tingled with satisfaction, though she fought to hide it.
"Oh, Father, you don't have to worry," Ava said sweetly. "Every shepherd has both a good and a bad sheep."
Ariana didn't need her to say more—she understood the insult perfectly.
"Father," Ava continued, lowering her voice to a more concerned tone, "please… can I stay with my sister when the king gives her punishment? What if he doesn't understand her? She can't speak—someone should interpret. I could help."
But that wasn't her real reason. Ava had no intention of helping Ariana—she just wanted to use the opportunity to get closer to the Alpha King.
Her father's expression softened.
"Oh, my child. The Moon Goddess truly blessed you with such a beautiful heart… it's rare," he murmured proudly.
Then his voice shifted, quieter and more serious. "But I'm not allowed there either. No one is. It will only be your sister… and the Alpha King."
Ava's eyes widened. Her body stiffened.
Her face paled.