At the birthday feast, I unwittingly wore the late Duchess Consort Seraphina’s gown. The eight-year-old heir, young Arthur, publicly shoved me into the lily pond. He watched with cold, unfeeling eyes as I thrashed in the water, his expression mirroring his father, Duke Theron Vance – distant and utterly devoid of warmth. “Don’t think dressing like my mother will ever let you usurp her place,” he’d spat, his voice sharp and venomous. “The moment I come of age, I will cast you out of the Regent’s Keep!” The chill waters engulfed my body, chilling my very soul. Gazing at the child I had raised with my own hands, there was no sorrow, no fury within me, only a quiet sigh. “You needn’t cast me out. I shall leave tomorrow anyway.” 1. The late spring breeze was as cutting as Arthur’s glare. I accepted the cloak a chambermaid offered, intending to return to my chambers and change. But as I turned, a thorny bush by the pond caught my skirt. There was a sharp tearing sound. The hem of my gown, intricately embroidered with golden thread, ripped, a long, ragged tear marring its elegant sweep. “You wretched woman! That was my mother’s favorite gown when she was alive!” Arthur, who had been watching the spectacle with a sneer, transformed instantly into a furious, wild creature. His eyes blazed, red-rimmed with hatred. His childish face was twisted, brimming with scorn. I looked at him, my gaze complex. “Arthur, you’re lying.” The late Duchess Consort had always favored opulent silks and elaborate jewels; a gown of such simple elegance she would never have touched. Caught in his fabrication, Arthur’s bravado wavered. He stomped his foot in a burst of frustration, then turned and ran off, leaving a trail of youthful fury. I did not, as was my habit, pursue him to offer an explanation. After seeing off the last of the bewildered guests, I returned to my chambers alone. As I pushed open the door, a white cat, its neck brutally twisted, hung suspended before me. Scarlet blood dripped onto the polished marble floor, soaking my slippers and staining Nimbus’s soft, pure white fur. In my horrified stillness, Arthur’s defiant laugh echoed from behind me. “Hahaha! You deserve it! You made me lose my mother, and now I’ll make you lose what’s most important to you!” He made a childish, mocking face at me, then ran off, his laughter echoing down the silent corridor. I stood there, staring at the growing pool of blood on the floor, speechless for a long time. Years ago, I had arrived at the Capital, a solitary figure with my hawk, my wild horse, and a handful of sand from the Sunken Sands. But the sprawling Regent’s Keep had no room for any free or untamed soul. They had sent away my hawk, led away my horse. They had given me a wailing infant and a Persian white cat, a gift from some foreign envoy. It took me eight long years to nurture them, to raise them. To lose them, however, took but a mere instant. A sigh escaped me, and then I caught the familiar scent of sandalwood. I looked up. Duke Theron Vance stood silently before me. Father and son were indeed cut from the same stone. Both possessed the same aloof nobility, the same disdain for all lesser beings. He opened his arms, expecting me to step forward and attend to him, to loosen his robes and ease his burdens. He spoke, as if to himself, “I heard what happened today. Elara Hayes, you were at fault.” Seeing me remain motionless, his brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of displeasure in his eyes. His gaze swept over the bloodstained floor, and his tone softened, if only just. “The child is young. Why quarrel with him?” At Duke Theron’s unspoken command, the bloodstains on the floor were quickly wiped away. The candlelight flickered, casting shifting shadows. Nimbus, who used to playfully chase the dancing flames, seemed to have never existed. Just like me. I had devoted myself to them for eight years, tending to their every need. Yet, I had failed to leave even a faint mark on the hearts of this father and son. Duke Theron, dressed in fresh robes, settled onto the daybed and gently tapped the low table, signaling me to pour him tea. I instinctively obeyed. As I drew near, his large hand encircled my waist, pulling me into his embrace. He gently caressed my cheek. “Today is your birthday, Elara. You need not take the anti-conception elixir tonight. If you conceive, consider it my gift to you.” His warm breath feathered against my neck, yet a shiver of ice ran through me. Duke Theron was a man of vigorous passions. In the first month of our union, I found myself with child. Before I could even rejoice, he sent a servant with a bitter draught. “I love only Seraphina in this life, and I shall have but one child: Arthur. Should you conceive, it would inevitably breed ambition in your heart, distracting you from your duties to Arthur.” Thereafter, after every shared intimacy, he would watch me drink the anti-conception elixir. For eight years, without fail, day after day. Today, faced with Duke Theron’s unexpected ‘grace,’ I should have trembled with gratitude, eager to serve him with utmost devotion. But for the first time, I recoiled from his touch. “Your Grace, the eight-year pact has concluded. Tomorrow, I must depart.” 2. The initial hint of intimacy vanished. Duke Theron’s voice was now tinged with irritation. “Arthur is just a child! As his mother, your failure to raise him properly is your fault. It is extraordinary clemency that I have not held you accountable. How dare you act so petulant?” Mother? I laughed, a bitter, self-mocking sound. Years ago, Duke Theron had fallen deeply in love with my legitimate sister, Seraphina Hayes. Disregarding differences in station, he had married her, elevating the entire Hayes family overnight from obscurity to prominence within the Capital. From a minor border commander guarding the remote Sunken Sands, he became a powerful Duke Regent. They had lived in perfect harmony, a love story envied by all. But cruel fate intervened, and my sister perished in childbirth. Fearing their newfound influence might wane, the Hayes family sent me to be a replacement. Duke Theron, heartbroken by Seraphina’s passing, refused to marry any other woman as his Duchess. Yet, he pitied young Arthur, who was left without a mother’s care. So, our two families negotiated an eight-year pact: I would remain in the Regent’s Keep as a Lady Companion. Though a Lady Companion, I held no marriage contract, nor was my name entered into the Royal Registry. A mere written agreement had sealed my fate, binding my entire life. How absurd. For eight years, I had served as Arthur’s mother. Yet, strictly speaking, I remained an unmarried woman. I gathered my thoughts, my voice calm. “I am not being petulant. The pact has expired.” I continued, my gaze steady. “Remaining in the Keep without official status would only bring ridicule upon you and the young Lord.” Duke Theron’s tightly furrowed brow relaxed slightly. His gaze held a mixture of probing and challenge, yet his tone softened by a fraction. “If you could bear an heir for the Keep, I would naturally inscribe your name and the child’s into the House Chronicles, elevating you to the status of a true Lady Companion…” “No need.” No one willingly debases themselves, choosing to live as a mere placeholder. In this life, I had already suffered enough as a baseborn child. How could I bear to let my own child suffer the same fate? I straightened my robes and retrieved the steward’s ledger and the deeds to the ducal estates and businesses from my chamber. “A few days ago, I painstakingly settled all the accounts. The Keep’s head steward is my sister’s dowry retainer; she will seamlessly take over my duties.” I added, my voice devoid of emotion, “Arthur has grown. He should be taught by renowned scholars. My own knowledge is shallow, and I am ill-suited to raise him further.” Duke Theron casually waved a hand. The immensely valuable land deeds, the stacks of gold coin receipts, and the parchment of our binding agreement scattered across the floor like dust. He stepped on them, utterly without remorse. “Elara Hayes, do not presume too much.” His voice was laced with menace. “Considering it is your birthday, I shall not press the matter. Remain in your chambers for these next few days, and reflect.” With a heavy boom, the vermilion wooden door slammed shut, separating our two worlds. I gazed at the slowly ascending light in the night sky and smiled, a mirthless curl of my lips. It was a wish lantern, sent aloft to celebrate my birthday and offer blessings. But today was not my birthday. It was the day Duke Theron and my sister had first met. The night before I was sent to the Keep, my mother, Lady Hayes, had sought me out. She told me to memorize every detail of my sister, to mimic her every word and gesture. “Elara, only by doing so will the Duke Regent look upon you favorably. Only then can you secure your position in the Keep.” As she had predicted, Duke Theron, who usually paid me no mind, meticulously remembered my birthday. It was the only day of the year I looked forward to, the only day I felt a semblance of warmth, a flicker of care, a fleeting sense of belonging. But… stolen moments always have to be returned. Lost in thought, a sharp sting pierced my forehead. Arthur, perched atop the garden wall, triumphantly raised his slingshot. “If you insist on lingering in the Keep, one day, it won’t be a stone hitting your forehead, but a sharp arrow!” He gloated over his precise shot, utterly forgetting that I was the one who had patiently taught him to ride and shoot, hand over hand. That year, Lady Hayes had placed the infant Arthur into my arms. Her words had been earnest. “The kindness of nurture surpasses the bond of birth. If you truly care for him, Arthur will grow to see you as his true mother and treat you with utmost filial devotion. No matter what, you are family, connected by blood.” The Hayes family had placed great expectations upon me. And I, amidst the deceptive grandeur of the Keep, had nurtured a forbidden fantasy. Yet, eight years had passed. This father and son… one saw me as nothing. The other… hated me to the bone. 3. “The night wind is strong. Be careful not to catch a chill.” I offered one last reminder, then turned to return to my room. The next morning, Lady Hayes rushed in, blocking my path. She knelt before me, just as she had eight years ago, pleading desperately. “Elara, Arthur is still so young. He cannot do without you.” She paused, her voice tinged with a desperate edge. “Your father and brothers rely on the Duke Regent’s patronage. The Hayes family’s future hinges on your favor. You cannot act so impulsively.” “You’ve spoken so much,” I replied, my voice weary, “why not ask if I am well?” Lady Hayes froze for a moment. The sound of a carriage arriving outside the gates interrupted her impending lecture. A graceful, alluring woman, smiling, walked in. The moment she entered, Arthur ran and threw himself into her arms. “Aunt Lilith, I missed you so much.” The two walked hand-in-hand directly past me. With the sweet scent of her perfume, whispers from the Keep’s servants drifted to me. “The Lady Companion is truly pathetic. Shamelessly clinging to the Keep, racking her brains to please the Duke and the young Lord. In the end, she can’t even compare to a courtesan.” “Yesterday she was demanding to leave, and today she’s clinging on. She’s probably afraid Aunt Lilith will take her place.” Arthur tilted his small face up, nuzzling into Lilith Meadowes’s embrace. “Father has been waiting for you, Aunt Lilith. Let’s go find him.” He looked at me, then back at her. “I like Aunt Lilith best. She smells so sweet, and her voice is so lovely, unlike those coarse women from the countryside.” I froze. I had grown up in the Sunken Sands, and when I first arrived in the Capital, everything felt alien. The northern winds had chilled me to the bone, bringing on one illness after another. The Keep’s servants mocked my rustic manners, refusing to even bring me medicine. Only three-year-old Arthur had stayed by my side, his small face earnest. “Little Aunt, get well soon. I like Little Aunt. Little Aunt looks best when she rides a horse!” How could I have imagined then that the little shadow who followed me everywhere would become the sharp thorn in my heart? Lilith Meadowes smiled sweetly, greeting me. This woman, with her gentle movements, carried the grace of a water lily. Yet, her words were laced with provocation. “Miss Hayes, children speak without malice.” I ignored her, turning instead to help Lady Hayes to her feet. “You see, Your Grace and the young Lord are never short of company or care.” Lilith Meadowes was nothing but a courtesan. Yet, with her striking seven-tenths resemblance to my sister, she could effortlessly enter the Duke’s private study, a place I was forbidden to tread. Effortlessly, she stole the affections of father and son. Lady Hayes, now standing, showed no trace of her previous sorrow. Her face was cold. “Are you truly determined to leave?” I stated firmly, “I refuse to spend this entire life trapped within these four walls, revolving around two men who do not love me.” Slap! A sharp, stinging blow landed on my face. “Baseborn creature, you have no decorum.” Lady Hayes’s voice was venomous. “If I hadn’t granted you clemency back then, you would have died in the Sunken Sands! Yet you are so heartless, truly less than a dog raised by the Hayes family.” My birth mother was a Nomad Rider from the Sunken Sands. She was seen by the drunken General Hayes, and after a night of recklessness, I was born. In their eyes, a baseborn daughter was less than an animal. Giving me food, raising me, was a tremendous act of grace. Even after they moved to the Capital, abandoning us in the Sunken Sands without a word, I was expected to be eternally grateful. As her second blow was about to land, I seized Lady Hayes’s hand. “The Hayes family raised me until I was eight years old. I have repaid the Hayes family for those eight years.” I looked at her, my voice unwavering. “We are now utterly quits.” For eight years, I endured Duke Theron’s brutal exertions in the bedchamber. In the Keep, I meticulously managed every detail, big and small. I nurtured Arthur as if he were my own, showering him with all my love and companionship. I had done my utmost, my conscience clear, owing nothing to anyone. The only one I owed, was myself. Convinced that further persuasion was futile, Lady Hayes departed in a huff. I turned, only to meet Duke Theron’s deep, discerning gaze.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "392878", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel