The night went by just as fast as this morning. Ash having preparations to attend to, just as I do, left with haste.

I lounged about, eating breakfast in bed but being newly prone to morning sickness it quickly came back out. Instead, I opted to stick to a few small bites of fruit and a glass of water.

Reaching the early afternoon, a short time before the coronation, a flurry of maids enter my room.

"Miss Julia has sent us to get you ready," one of the girls speak, in a low curtsy.

I let them run about doing my hair, makeup and nails to perfection before ushering me into my closet to get dressed, which they, thankfully, give me privacy for.

Only 3 days into pregnancy yet a bump was already visible, I've decided to hide it, for now, to let Ash focus on more important matters. "I'll tell him soon," I say quietly as I wrap my arms around myself, "soon."

I pull open the box labelled "Coronation," inside another elegantly beautiful dress. Made from layers on champagne tulle, the dress' bedazzled bodice covered in intricate beading which carried over the entirety of the fabric, with off-the-shoulder lace wrapped sleeves and it's ball gown silhouette which led the skirt all the way down to the floor with a small train.

Unable to do up the back, I walk out and a maid, whose name I learn to be is Emily, tightly secures the lace. After a few final touch-ups, they place a gold tiara embellished with a number of jewels upon my brow.

I thank them and return to the closet to put on my shoes. Yesterday's pearl coloured heels, thrown away hastily, sit unevenly spaced apart from each other. My skirt swishes as I pick up one heel and move to the other. After putting them on, familiar pieces of folded card catches my eye.

Unfolding it gently, the set scene presents itself once more, a pair of people, James' bride and the man, who I now know as Dean.

The same Dean that helped pick my wedding dress, the same Dean whose dress I wear now, the Dean who enchanted innocent Charlie to lie. Who is Dean? The real Dean? A demon? Yes, that much is clear. Was that even his store or perhaps another enchanted lie.

Dean who Jennie observed with swirling emotion in her eyes. Love? But love can be mistaken for fear, the increased heartbeat, the subtle feeling of nausea in your stomach. Jennie was scared of Dean.

And the bride in these photos, J, the messages she had left. She also enchanted Charlie so the bride is also of demon blood. The bride whose eyes are trained on youthful Dean, eyes filled with hate and a nervous smile of fear?

"She looks just like..." my thoughts trail as the picture suddenly shifts and I recognise the bride, J, "Jennie."

I feel as though I am hit with a wave as I utter her name. All this time she was under my nose, James' killer, James' bride, his wife, the one who knew my name before I knew hers. Jennie, who I still know nothing about.

"Answers, I need answers," I mumble, standing up straight, I head to the doors of my closet and exit, the pictures held tightly in my hand.

My room, evacuated of maids, is empty. I need to get to the dungeon, thoughts flooding my mind, it isn't clear enough to simply just magic myself there.

I have a vague idea of where everything is located in the palace, the dungeons are close to the dining hall. With my location in mind, I rush towards the dungeons.

My strides are fast but cautious as I feel unstable in my heels and the heavyweight of my dress makes me breathe harder than if I was in more agile clothing. Focusing on keeping my brisk pace I almost run straight into a known face.

"Peter, " I say flushed, subtly trying to sidestep him. I fall back a little as he puts his body in my way.

"Elle, slow down. Where are you running to?" He asks, voice slightly panicked.

I huff out a frustrated breath, I need to get around him. After composing myself, I studying his form and I realise he's dressed in formal attire, "Eli and Clyde invited me on behalf of the Institute, " he answers without me asking.

Continuing to not say much, he gives me a look, clear with concern and confusion, "the dungeons, " I breath still winded from running in such a heavy dress, "I'm going to the dungeons, please move or I'll make you."

Peter's eyes widen but he says nothing as he moves out the way and takes off in the opposite direction. I think it odd, how he took off so abruptly, but ignore it and continue on.

I slow before reaching the gateway of the stairs that lead down the dungeon as a pair of guards watch me with questioning eyes.

I step up to them and without wasting any more time, "sleep," I command, enchanting them into a temporary coma-like state. Grabbing the chain of keys from one of the guards, I unlock the doors and descend downwards.

The corridors are poorly lit by fire fueled torches, "how medieval," I think aloud, I turn my head side to side trying to figure out which way I should go.

Suddenly, the air hums as a tether pulls me down the darkest path, I follow it.

The pull leads me to a single, dark cell deep in the dungeons where Jennie sits slumped in a corner, her head down with a chain wrapped around her ankle.

I step away and light barren torches in the surrounding area to see her better. Returning back to my spot opposite her cell, I find her dark eyes staring at me.

Without a word spoken between us, tears cloud her eyes, "sorry, " she apologises wiping her eyes, "I don't mean to cry. You must you be here because you know," she says, now standing close to the bars of her cage.

As much as I want to feel hate towards her I can't, a part of me, even though I don't really understand, gets it. Whatever she's gone through, it was a lot, too much for someone to handle.

It's never as simple as black and white there's always some grey.

My features soften in sympathy, "I want you to explain," I show her the crumpled pictures in hand, "I want to know," our eyes meet, "please."

In a swift action, she grips my wrists and speaks, "let me show you," her words thick with magic. Everything transitions and suddenly I'm looking through her eyes instead of mine.

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See y'all later.

Enami out ;-)