To save my family from the king's dungeons, I married the Lord Regent—the most feared man in the realm. On our wedding night, the man they whispered was no man at all took me until I teetered on oblivion. The next morning, royal decree in hand, he ordered my House slaughtered. I knelt at his door for three days. "Ten years ago," he said, ice in his gaze, "your father's betrayal saw my kin butchered like cattle. This is fate's wheel turning. Blood owed, paid in blood." For five years he kept me locked away, tormenting me daily. I held on for my mother's sake—until he ripped our seven-month child from my womb for his mistress. Seven days before my promised freedom, I stood atop the Spire, wind lashing my robes. And there—the mighty Regent on his knees, begging me not to jump. 01 The moment Damien Vaughn kicked the door open, I had just finished lighting the three memorial candles for our child’s tablet. He seized my wrist, his grip like iron, his expression savage. “Elara, you have some nerve!” “I told you, do not go near Liana. Yet you provoke her, again and again.” “Do you truly believe I won’t do anything to you?” He shoved me violently. My forehead struck the edge of the wooden table behind me, and a painful, red welt immediately began to form. But I acted as if I felt nothing. I slowly sank to my knees before him, pressing my bruised forehead to the cold stone floor. “I am sorry.” Damien’s eyes tightened. He instinctively reached out to help me up, but the moment his fingers brushed my arm, he flinched back. As if he had touched something foul, he snatched his hand away and hid it behind his back. “What game are you playing now, Elara?” I shook my head, my voice as still and dead as a winter lake. “No game. It is my duty to see to Lady Liana.” “Whatever has befallen her, I accept the blame.” It was always this way. He never investigated anything concerning Liana; he simply decreed it was my fault. If Liana had a headache, he claimed it was because our stars were crossed in ill-omen. If Liana sprained her ankle, he accused me of deliberately placing loose stones on the path. And two days ago, when Liana miscarried, and the royal physician found saffron in her tonic… He didn't need proof. He declared I had done it out of jealousy and spite. He was the one who held the bitter draught to my lips, forcing me to drink. He was the one who ordered the midwife to tear our seven-month-old child from my body, to serve as a companion for Liana’s lost baby in the cold earth. The thought of that unborn child sent a wave of grief so profound through me that I nearly collapsed. I bit down hard on my lip, just to maintain the last shred of composure in his presence. Experience had taught me that any display of weakness would be seen as another ploy, another attempt to manipulate him with pity. The candles on the table burned out. Damien’s gaze swept over them and fell upon the child’s memorial tablet. His face contorted. He strode forward, lifted me without a word, and threw me onto the bed, his hands moving to the ties of my bodice. I could smell it on his collar—the cloying scent of Liana’s favorite perfume. I caught his hand, my eyes meeting his with a strange calm. “My body has not yet healed. Perhaps another day.” Damien froze, then his eyes raked over me, a deep, mocking sneer spreading across his face. He leaned in close, his whisper a venomous caress against my ear. “Elara, besides this body of yours, what other value do you possess?” A chill pierced me to the bone. Ignoring my trembling, Damien ripped away the last of my clothing. The bed canopy fell, casting the room in wavering, uncertain light. His face, devoid of passion, was reflected in my tear-filled, numb eyes. I couldn’t deny it. I loved Damien Vaughn. He was the brilliant, beautiful boy who had dazzled my youth. He was the man I had defied my parents for, kneeling outside their door for three days and nights, determined to marry. But I couldn’t help but hate him, too. He had seduced me into his trap, only to send my entire family to the gallows. He had personally overseen the execution of my parents and a hundred other members of House Sutton. He had kept me a prisoner for five years, shaming and torturing me, day after endless day. It wasn't that I hadn't thought of death. But five years ago, in that dark, cold dungeon, my mother had clutched my hand, her face streaked with tears. “Elara, my darling,” she had wept, “I only ask one thing of you. No matter what, you must live.” “I will wait for you on the shores of the afterlife for five years. If, after five years, you still have not found a reason to live, then you may come and find me.” My mother hoped that promise of five years would give me a reason to hope, a reason to survive. Even the coming of our child… I had allowed myself to believe it was a glimmer of light my mother had sent me from beyond. But that fragile flame had been ruthlessly snuffed out by Damien. And now, there were five days left until my five years were up. 02 When I woke the next day, Damien, contrary to his usual habit, had not left. He had summoned two maids. One held a steaming bowl of a foul-smelling tonic. “Elara, that child… it was an accident.” “You should understand. You are not worthy of bearing a child of House Vaughn.” Damien was right. I wasn't worthy. My father was the man who had framed his, leading to the unjust deaths of one hundred and eight innocent people. If Damien hadn’t been blind drunk seven months ago, on the anniversary of his family’s execution, I never would have conceived. But that night, cradled in his arms, he had suddenly begun to weep. “When they purged my House, my little brother was only three. They dragged him to the execution block… and his head rolled in the dirt.” “My sister… she was three days from marrying the man she loved.” “But because of your father’s lies, she was defiled by the guards in her cell. She took her own life in despair.” “If I hadn't been fostered at the Abbey as a boy, I would have died with them.” “And my family would have been cursed by the people for generations, branded as traitors for a hundred, a thousand years to come.” “Elara, shouldn't I hate you?” “But, Elara… what am I supposed to do?” I knew in my heart that Damien was just like me. He loved, and he hated. The bond between us was a knot that could never be untied, only severed. I lowered my eyes, took the bowl with both hands, and drank the barren-womb draught in one gulp. A single, wrapped candy fell onto the bedsheets beside me. It was from the confectioner on the East Gate, my favorite. Damien used to buy them for me all the time. Even if it meant waiting in line for hours. I clutched the candy, a sudden, sharp ache in my chest. He always did this. Just when my heart had turned to ash, he would casually light a small lamp. Then blow it out. Then light it again. And blow it out again. Over and over, making my life a torment. Making death an escape I couldn't quite reach. My hand, hidden in my sleeve, clenched into a fist. I wanted to say something, but when I looked up, all I saw was his retreating back. The two maids whispered to each other. “The daughter of an enemy. I can’t imagine why the Lord Regent keeps her here.” “If it were me, I’d have had her flayed and quartered long ago. Instead, he feeds her, clothes her, lets her play the lady of the manor!” They made no attempt to hide their scorn. The words were meant for me. After they left, the vast room was empty again, except for me and the child’s tablet on the table. … For the next few days, I didn’t see Damien. The servants whispered that Lady Liana had caught a chill, that her head was splitting with pain. Damien stayed by her side the entire time, caring for her diligently. On the final day of my five-year promise, the estate’s steward pushed open my door. “The Lady Liana wishes to plant a winter rose garden. She has commanded that you are to go and turn over all the soil in the back garden.” My head snapped up. The back garden. That’s where I buried my child’s body. 03 By the time I stumbled into the back garden, Liana had already directed the groundskeepers to dig up half the frozen earth. “Stop! All of you, stop!” I screamed, heedless of my appearance. But the servants knew my place in this house. They paid me no mind. I rushed to Liana. “Tell them to stop! Make them stop now!” Liana waved a dismissive hand, and two of her personal guards pulled me away. She toyed with a string of pearls, a light, cruel laugh on her lips. “A wretched little thing like that doesn't deserve to be buried in the hallowed grounds of this estate.” “The frost is deep, and the beasts in the forest are hungry. Once we dig the little beast up, we can toss it to them. Consider it an act of charity.” Her words struck me like a physical blow. I was filled with a blinding rage. I don’t know where the strength came from, but I broke free from the guards and seized the front of Liana’s dress. “Liana, you took my child from me. I’ll kill you!” I pulled the simple wooden pin from my hair and lunged, aiming for her throat. The pin had barely scratched her delicate skin when a powerful hand shoved me from behind. I slammed into a stone bench, and in an instant, the cold steel of a dozen swords was at my throat. Liana, feigning terror, collapsed into Damien’s arms, sobbing. “Damien, my love, you came just in time! If you hadn’t, I would never have seen you again.” Damien’s brow was a knot of fury, but his eyes were fixed on me, silent and unreadable. I ignored the animosity between us, my voice a desperate plea. “Damien, please. I beg you, make them stop.” “Punish me however you want, I’ll accept anything, but that is my child!” “Damien… he is our child…” Ignoring the blades at my neck, I crawled step by agonizing step and knelt at his feet. I clutched the hem of his trousers, my voice a raw, ugly rasp. “He was a boy, Damien. He will never learn to ride a horse or draw a bow now…” In countless nights past, Damien had kissed my hair and whispered in my ear: “Elara, my love, when we have a child…” “If it’s a boy, I will teach him to ride and shoot.” “If it’s a girl, you will teach her poetry and song.” But now, our child never even had the chance to see this world. The memory must have struck Damien too, because his pupils contracted sharply. He instinctively glanced at the ravaged garden, his face shadowed and dark. Liana sensed his hesitation. She dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “Damien, the Master Physician came yesterday. He said my ceaseless headaches are caused by the unquiet spirit of a dead infant buried on the grounds.” “It was foolish of me. I was only thinking of myself, not of my lady’s feelings.” “If she truly cannot bear it, I suppose I can continue to suffer…” I didn’t hear another word she said. All I saw was a groundskeeper unearthing a small bundle wrapped in red cloth. The searing crimson made my tears fall anew. I tugged desperately at Damien’s leg. “Damien, if you just spare my child…” “I will give up my position as your wife. I will give it to Liana!” “My wife?” Damien’s brow furrowed, and then a storm of fury erupted in his eyes. He gritted his teeth. “Elara, does the title of Lady Vaughn disgust you so much?” I knelt there, sobbing too hard to speak. His lips thinned into a white line, his face ashen. Suddenly, he let out a harsh, barking laugh. “You are truly something else!” “A dead infant is an ill omen. To leave it here will only bring disaster upon this house. Men! Bring me tinder and dry branches…” Damien squeezed his eyes shut, hiding the raw crimson within them. He bit out each word. “Burn it. On the spot.”
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