"Evangeline," the woman heard behind herself and turned to look at the woman standing with a smile, finding her stepmother stared deeply into her eyes. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing, Amara."

Amara gave her a small smile, watching the girl she'd watched grow up through the mirror. Her wedding dress fitted her thin like a glove, bringing her breasts up the best way it could and squeezing her so tightly she could barely breathe. The golden necklace she'd gotten as a gift the same morning from Mary - her mother-in-law - matched the details of the fabric covering her body and made it look a lot richer, and the tanned skin of her face was coated in makeup to make the girl look her best.

"You look beautiful," she affirmed, checking her brown strands to see if there was anything out of place.

Evangeline was getting married to a man she'd never met. Her stepmother grandfather had arranged a political alliance with the Winchesters and now she had a duty to fulfil, stepping in and marrying their first son and heir.

"Lord Dean will fall for you as soon as you enter the abbey," her handmaid affirmed, standing by the princess' side and straightening her dress' back.

"Are you sure?" she questioned, feeling hesitant.

Amara shook her head, seeing in her the same fear she had had the day she married the girl's father, long and long ago.

"Maybe," she touched the brunette's back. "But it doesn't matter, does it?"

Evangeline stared at her reflection for a moment, blue eyes searching for anything to focus on while her mind rushed to convinced itself there was no reason to be so nervous, specially under Amara's eyes.

"No, Amara."

Her brother was king and her role was to be a good princess. Her happiness didn't matter, her duty did.

Evangeline was King Chuck's first child, a daughter born before his first wife – Queen Elena - had died, and the apple of his eyes for a long time.

If the world was fair, Evangeline thought, she would be his heir and the queen; however, she was just a woman. If he hadn't had any children with his second wife, Amara, she'd be in the throne by now, but that wasn't what had happened. Evangeline couldn't raise a sword or defend her own honour with her hands if she needed, even if her life depended on it, and didn't have supporters enough to start a war. That's why she had shifted her attention as soon as her father was gone and her position officially changed. Evangeline knew her beauty was a weapon and that this was the best option she had in her life now if she wanted to at least ditance herself from the tension that surrounded every breath she drew in.

The best weapon you have is between your legs – Amara had told her the day she had flowered, dismissing how she were completely terrified of the blood coming out of between her legs– your beauty will take you anywhere you want if you use it the right way.

She had taught her what she thought the girl needed to know.

"Come," she offered the girl a hand as the soldier opened the door of the room she had spent the last day as a maiden in. "They are waiting for us."