On the Isle of Lyra, in my third year as a Seer Sister, Duke Julian Thorne deliberately drugged me, violating my vows and my purity. He confessed, quite boldly, that he’d been captivated by me at first sight, wishing only to spend the rest of his life with me. Left with no choice, I abandoned my sacred path and became his Duchess of Ashworth. Three years into our marriage, however, the Duke was found spending the night in a disreputable establishment. He seemed to believe I had no one to rely on, openly remarking, "In bed, a former nun is quite… uninspired." I didn’t cry, I didn’t raise a scene. The very next morning, I stood before the Grand Altar of the Oracle and quietly called out: "Aunt Bea." "Melody is pregnant, Gemma. My child cannot be born into the streets," Julian Thorne said, pushing a cup of tea across the polished mahogany table toward me, his eyes gleaming with expectation. "I am a man, after all. How could I endure your constant devotion to the chapel?" Seeing my silence, Julian launched into a tirade, blaming me for his transgressions. I offered a wry smile. He conveniently forgot how he had drugged me all those years ago. The Seer Sisters of Lyra had been prepared to exact the ultimate price for his transgression, to unleash the full wrath of the Isle. But that night, he had crept into my chambers, whispering promises: You can still pursue your sacred path, Gemma, even by my side. You will be queen in our home, and I will forever be your devoted servant. I believed him. I willingly endured the Hundred and Eight Sacred Trials of Lyra, a penance meant for profound transgressions. When I emerged, my bones aching, my body broken, Julian himself knelt before the High Matron of the Order, begging her to spare my life. After our marriage, Julian had lavished me with affection. On my first formal appearance at court, a young noblewoman from a powerful House attempted to drug me. I disgraced myself before the King, and the whispers turned to outright mockery. "I say, the Duchess of Ashworth is no pious former nun," someone snickered, "she looks more like a wanton harlot!" Julian, usually so composed, had lashed out, striking the woman across the face with a resounding smack. His eyes held a ferocity I had never seen before. "Any more slander against my Duchess, and today will be your last!" After that, no one dared to openly criticize me. Julian’s outburst, however, had offended King Alaric, who, in turn, placed a powerful Binding Charm upon him. From then on, Julian was forced to seek the King’s antidote monthly. "Gemma, once Melody enters our home, you can still find solace in the chapel. And the child she bears will recognize you as its mother," Julian promised, reaching for my hand as if nothing had changed. But he had forgotten. The High Matron, when she saved my life, had issued a dire warning: Gemma is no ordinary Seer Sister. Should you betray her, know that the Isle of Lyra will pursue you to the ends of the earth. In the three years since I married, I had severed all ties with the Isle of Lyra. Julian, it seemed, had also forgotten the Matron’s solemn threat. I placed the teacup back on the table, evading his attempt to kiss me. Finally, I conceded. "Bring her back, then." Julian stared at the untouched tea, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. But my words, the unexpected surrender, overwhelmed him with such joy that he bounded out of the room like a giddy boy. My maid, Elara, asked why I hadn’t drunk the tea. "Madam, His Majesty personally bestowed this Silver Dew tea. Is it not your favorite?" Julian believed I was oblivious. In these three years of marriage, I had remained barren because he had secretly been lacing my tea with a potent contraceptive. I tipped the cup, emptying the contents into a potted plant, and then retrieved a message discreetly delivered by my aunt’s messenger. Gemma, in seven days, His Majesty will hold the Grand Consecration Ceremony. The realm will bow before the Altar. At that time, you will be the new Oracle. The next day, Julian, consumed by eagerness, brought Melody Sinclair into the manor. He even granted her the status of his equal wife, a rare and deeply insulting slight to a Duchess. At the lavish banquet, Julian saw me enter and immediately roared, "Go back to your chambers!" My eyes burned, fixed on the hand concealed beneath his sleeve, clasped around Melody's. He had never spoken a harsh word to me before. But now, he feared I would disrupt his and Melody's celebratory feast, so he had ordered his personal guard to confine me to my room since dawn. The moment the guests saw me, whispers rippled through the hall. "The former nun doesn't even know, does she? The Duke only married her because she resembled Melody." "Three years ago, Melody was unjustly imprisoned. The Duke thought she was dead and went to the Isle of Lyra to light a soul-candle for her. Otherwise, how could this little nun have ever married the Duke?" "Now that the Duke's true love has returned, I'd bet he'll discard his Duchess within two weeks!" ……………… I lifted my gaze, studying Melody's face. Indeed, she bore an uncanny resemblance to me—perhaps an eighty percent likeness. No wonder Julian had rushed to embrace me upon our first meeting, as if he had found a lost treasure. No wonder he had wept tears of joy, declaring his instant love for me. Recalling every moment of our past, it all seemed a cruel mockery. Elara steadied me from behind. I couldn't bear to look any longer, stumbling back towards the rear courtyard. Julian, seeing me falter, instinctively surged forward. "Gemma, be careful!" In the past, I would have undoubtedly melted into his arms, playfully feigning weakness. But now, the mere thought of his touch filled me with revulsion. I flung his hand away. I retreated to the chapel alone, replaying every memory of my time with Julian. The frescoes on the chapel walls were painted by his own hand. The sacred texts within were copied together, page by page. Even the chapel itself was painstakingly recreated by him, a perfect replica of the meditation hall I had known on the Isle of Lyra. "Duchess, did Julian ever tell you that the painting in this chapel… he actually painted it to resemble me?" Melody's voice, startlingly abrupt, sliced through the stillness. She strode in, pulling down one of the frescoes and holding it before my eyes. The woman in the painting. She had a distinct tear-mole beneath her eye, a detail I lacked. When he had painted it, I had playfully chided him: You paint me without even looking at me? What kind of artist are you? Julian had smiled then, his eyes soft. My heart knows your likeness, how could I not know your form? I had fallen, lost in his honeyed words, my heart completely given. But now I understood. The one in his heart was never me. "Gemma Sterling, do you know the Duke never loved you? Do you know how much he detests that you turned his bedchamber into a chapel?" I stared at Melody, incredulous. When we designed it, Julian had smiled and said it was perfect. She lifted her skirt, revealing a patchwork of angry bruises beneath. "The Duke said… one night of passion with me surpassed all his time with you these past three years…" I couldn't bear to listen further. I rose, gave her one last look, then walked out of the chapel. Half an hour later, Julian burst into my chambers, his hand raised, and slapped me hard across the face! CRACK! My ears rang violently. My eyes wide with disbelief, I stared at Julian. "Gemma Sterling, if you were unhappy with my marriage to Melody, you should have said so! Why agree to her entry, only to then try to take her life?" Julian clamped his hand around my wrist, his grip so brutal that tears streamed down my face. He seemed not to notice, his eyes blazing with fury as he interrogated me. A servant, seeing my bewilderment, quickly offered an explanation. After I left, a fire had broken out in the chapel. Melody, who had been inside praying, was injured when a burning beam collapsed, leaving a horrific scar across her face. "Duchess, I know you resent my beauty, but I never intended to take anything that belonged to you…" Melody sobbed, her voice trembling. "Now that my face is ruined, how am I to live?" Before I could utter a single word of explanation, Melody collapsed, feigning a faint. I was about to protest, but Julian was already gone, cradling Melody in his arms. Soon after, he returned with his personal guard. They seized me, pinning me down. His eyes were cold, devoid of all warmth. "You ruined the most precious thing to Melody. Now, I shall take from you what you hold most dear!" With that, his longsword flashed, piercing my palm. I screamed, an agonizing sound, as Julian stepped forward and brutally snapped my wrist. "Gemma Sterling, your heart is venomous, you have harmed my mistress. You are hereby stripped of your rank and demoted to a concubine!" "Melody Sinclair, you are hereby elevated to Duchess of Ashworth!" The searing pain in my hand coursed through my entire body. I writhed on the floor, barely able to move. My origins were humble; the King’s Mother had been against my marriage, but Julian had knelt outside the palace gates for three days and three nights to obtain the royal decree for our union. And now, he himself was degrading me to a mere concubine. I clutched at the fabric of my gown, helplessly watching Julian walk away, his figure receding into the distance. My chest felt as though it were being gnawed by ants. Blood flowed ceaselessly from my hand. A maid attempted to staunch the flow, but I merely scoffed, shaking my head. Julian was a warrior; he had personally broken my wrist. These hands could never again hold a quill to write. He knew full well that I cherished the sacred texts, that my life’s purpose was to copy them. I let out a bitter laugh, pain and despair intertwining in my heart, keeping me awake through the long night. The next morning, Julian burst into my room, kicking the door open with a furious boot. "Reporting to the Isle of Lyra? Gemma Sterling, you promised me you would never return there!" Julian roared, flinging a letter into my face and clamping his hand around my jaw. When I married him, I had said: If you never betray me, I will never return to the Isle of Lyra. But now Julian had betrayed me for another woman, destroying my hands. How could I dare to remain by his side? "My Lord, my hand was ruined because of me. Will the people of the Isle of Lyra seek revenge on me?" Melody whimpered, clinging to Julian's chest. "Melody fears not death, but she fears being separated from you again…" Julian’s voice was softer than I had ever heard it, filled with a tenderness that twisted my gut. "Melody, I will never allow anything to happen to you again." He looked at me, a cold sneer on his lips, his words sharp as daggers. "I have severed all contact between the Isle of Lyra and Gemma. From this day forth, Gemma will serve Melody!" His gaze hardened, "Should anyone from the Isle of Lyra dare to harm you, Melody, Gemma will not leave this manor alive!" Melody smirked triumphantly at me, her eyes glinting with malicious challenge. She knew my hands were useless, yet she ordered me to wash all the clothes in the courtyard. That night, as I dozed off, her maid brutally kicked me in the back. "The Duchess says you're not to sleep until all the washing is done!" I was sent sprawling into the basin of water, soaked to the bone, but she forbade me from changing my clothes. The night was cold. Within the hour, my consciousness began to fray. In my haze, I thought I saw Julian watching me from a distance. But what landed on me was another blow from the maid’s stick. Julian feared I would send word to the Isle of Lyra, so he stationed four of his elite guards to watch me. My back was a bloody mess, skin torn open, yet I was utterly helpless. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I finished all the washing. Melody, however, suddenly ordered her servants to drag me to the main hall. Her eyes were icy. With a single glance, the men behind me instantly pinned me to the floor. I snapped awake, struggling, refusing to kneel. A devotee of the sacred path kneels only to the Heavens, to one’s parents, and to the Divine. Beyond that, to no one. "My Lord, I was wrong, please, I beg you, don't make me kneel!" Julian suddenly entered from the doorway. I grabbed at his sleeve, pleading desperately. Julian looked at me, a flicker of something resembling reluctance in his eyes. "My Lord, Gemma ruined my new gown. Do you think she should be punished?" Melody purred, throwing herself into his arms, tears glistening in her eyes. In an instant, his expression hardened again, turning cold. "Destroying the Duchess's gown certainly deserves punishment!" With just that one sentence, the men behind me kicked my knee. CRACK! My bone shattered instantly, and I collapsed to the floor. Melody flung the gown onto my prone body, then placed her feet, one by one, on my outstretched hands. Her pretty face was alight with smug triumph. "Gemma, make sure you wash tonight's clothes very, very carefully." The sharp point of her shoe-buckle dug into the back of my hand, and blood welled up, slowly flowing down my wrist. Julian glanced at it, then quickly covered Melody's eyes, murmuring softly, "Dirty." Pain and humiliation twisted in my heart. I clutched the letter hidden beneath my clothes, weeping silently. When I followed Julian away from the Isle of Lyra, the High Matron had warned me: "If you insist on leaving with him, Gemma, you are destined to face a trial of the heart in this life." At the time, my eyes saw only Julian’s professed love for me. I remembered his promise: No one will ever hurt you, unless I am dead. But in the end, it was he himself who hurt me. But it was alright. In three days, the Grand Consecration Ceremony for the Oracle, the Ceremony of the Thousand Bows, would take place. As a Seer Sister from the Isle of Lyra, Julian would certainly be obligated to take me. Three days from now, we would part ways, forever. Even as I lay in bed, unable to move, Julian stubbornly forced me to drink a medicinal broth, insisting I tend to Melody's unborn child. For days, I had tried to explain that I had not harmed her. But Julian had roared, "Only you knew the chapel’s weaknesses! If not for your arson, how could Melody have been scarred?" He demanded I atone for Melody’s suffering, promising that once her child was safely born, he would restore my former life. I remained silent, quietly agreeing. "Very well." One day, when the maid was taking me to buy medicine, she advised me: "Madam, everyone can see that you spend your days in the chapel and avoid closeness with His Grace. He’s just angry with you! If you just soften your stance a little, he’ll stop tormenting you." I smiled, but I did not agree. Every year at this time, the Seer Sisters of Lyra observed a period of strict abstinence, both from rich foods and worldly pleasures. For the past two years, Julian had indulged me. If I avoided his touch, he would spend his days in the chapel with me, reciting sacred texts. But this year, I had waited in the chapel until dawn and had not seen a trace of Julian. The next day, I learned he had spent the night in a disreputable establishment. From that moment, my heart had inexplicably wrenched, as if a piece had been torn out of me. People on the streets knew that Julian had cast me aside. Even beggars dared to accost me. "I’ve never had a taste of a nun before. Little nun, why don't you come with me?" "Do you wear your plain robes in bed, too? The thought is quite… stimulating." Ragged hands groped at me from all sides, but I had no strength to resist. In the past, whenever I left the manor, Julian would always assign me a few personal guards. Now, those guards were all assigned to Melody's courtyard. Men's hands brushed against me, and I screamed in terror. "No! Don't touch me!" "Who dares cause such a disturbance here?!" The Lord Chancellor of the Capital passed by, rescuing me from the mob. Once the crowd dispersed, the ruffians had vanished. Someone was deliberately targeting me, yet trying to remain unseen. Back at the manor, Melody's eyes widened in shock to see me return unharmed. I knew my suspicions were correct. In the very heart of the capital, no one would dare to openly assault me. Melody was desperate for me to lose my purity, so Julian would have a pretext to get rid of me. I carried the bitter herbal brew to her, yet I didn’t expose her malicious scheme. Not long after, I was thrown before Melody's bed. Julian’s longsword pointed at my throat, and he roared, his voice hoarse with fury, "Gemma Sterling, I never thought you were so vicious! Harming Melody wasn't enough, now you would kill her unborn child?!" He plunged his sword into my shoulder. My long gown immediately turned crimson. "You seek death!" Julian kicked me to the ground, his heavy boot pressing down on my chest. "My Lord, My Lord, you must avenge our child…" Melody gasped her last words, then quickly fell unconscious. Julian was convinced that the herbal brew I had delivered tonight had caused Melody’s miscarriage. Without hesitation, he had me thrown into the serpent pit. The dozen venomous vipers, having been deprived of food for half a month, gazed at me with gleaming, ravenous eyes. They said that the last person thrown in there hadn't even left bones behind. A maid stood by the pit, weeping, begging me to explain everything. But I simply asked, my voice faint, "Julian Thorne, do you know that the Seer Sisters of Lyra possess the gift of foresight?" He paused, a flicker of confusion in his eyes, quickly replaced by raging anger. He kicked me down. I plunged dozens of feet. My already frail bones shattered completely, and I coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood. The serpents slowly began to coil around me. I stifled the bitterness in my heart. From above, Julian’s voice, cold and detached, gave his orders: "Watch her. Don't let her die!" "I want her to long for death, but never find it!" These past few days, he had assigned many men to monitor me. Had he bothered to investigate, he would have known I had no opportunity to drug Melody. Moreover, I had known for some time that the child in her womb was stillborn. But I knew that no matter how much I explained, Julian would never believe me. When the serpents bit me, I had no strength to evade them. The pain in my heart eclipsed that of my body. My already shattered heart was crushed once more. Julian and I were truly over. The next day, I was dragged out of the pit, covered in blood. There wasn't an inch of unblemished skin on my body. I drifted into unconsciousness. In my hazy state, I heard Julian’s cold voice. "Splash her with water. I don't believe she can fake death!" Julian had long known that the Seer Sisters of Lyra were immune to poisons, but he had forgotten one crucial detail: I was terrified of serpents. "His Majesty has specifically requested your presence at the Grand Consecration Ceremony. If you dare utter a single word out of place, Gemma, you will not leave this manor alive!" Julian threatened me from inside the carriage, his voice low and dangerous. I stared at the man before me. He had once loved me, but now, for the sake of another woman, he suspected me, he loathed me. I remained silent, quietly closing my eyes.
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