Chapter 2

Mirelle's POV

Caspian still brought me back to Queenshall in the end.

He stared at me, his eyes full of cold disgust.

"Take off those filthy rags. You're a total disgrace."

I looked down at my coarse, scratchy tunic.

He didn't know it took me three agonizing nights of suffering just to earn this single piece of rough fabric to cover my body.

The maids dragged in a wooden tub filled with hot water.

When one stepped forward to undo the ties of my tunic, I flinched violently.

I curled into a ball, letting out a terrified whimper like a cornered animal.

The maids jumped back in shock.

They exchanged uneasy glances, too scared to come any closer.

Sensing the commotion, Caspian stepped around the privacy screen. He reached out and grabbed my wrist hard.

"Mirelle, what kind of crazy act are you pulling now?"

As he yanked my arm, my sleeve slipped down.

My forearm was fully exposed, revealing a gruesome, jagged brand burned deep into my flesh.

The edges of the scar were twisted and ugly.

Caspian froze. The anger in his eyes shifted to shock.

"Who did this?" he demanded.

I shrank into myself, tucking my chin to my chest. I didn't answer.

Out of nowhere, Lysette appeared behind him.

She gently brushed Caspian’s hand away from my wrist.

"The High Consort must have suffered so much at the Border Garrison, Your Majesty," she said softly. "Why don't you let me help her bathe and change?"

She took a single step toward me, and every hair on my body stood on end.

It started three years ago.

Her horse had thrown a wild fit, and I simply ordered the guards to restrain the beast.

But Lysette ran straight to Caspian, weeping. She claimed I was trying to kill both her and her horse out of jealousy.

“Her temper is too wild, Sire,” she had sniffled to him back then. “The Border Garrison has strict rules. Maybe a stint there will break her stubborn pride.”

Caspian believed every word of her lies.

He threw me into the garrison, taking great pains to order everyone to play along with my "act" to teach me a lesson.

Now, Lysette stood before me, perfectly groomed and glowing, while I was nothing but a walking corpse.

She flashed me a smile. "It's been three years. I've missed you so much, sister."

As she spoke, she reached out to pull off my tunic.

This time, swallowing back my rising nausea, I didn't fight back.

The rough fabric fell to the floor.

My emaciated, heavily bruised body was on full display.

Caspian knit his brows, staring at my bones in sheer disbelief.

"Why have you lost so much weight?"

Lysette immediately cut in, her voice dripping with fake hurt.

"Is she purposely starving herself to copy my figure? Is she just trying to steal your pity, Sire?"

That sentence shattered whatever shred of sympathy Caspian had left.

"You really haven't changed at all," he sneered at me.

He turned on his heel and walked right out the door without looking back.

The moment it was just the two of us, Lysette dropped the innocent act entirely.

"You really are a tough one, aren't you? Can't believe you survived that." She scoffed, her lips curling into a smirk.

"But tell me... how did it feel? Going from a royal consort to a cheap plaything flat on her back for a thousand men?"

I looked up at her in sheer horror.

It suddenly clicked.

Lysette had paid off the garrison commander.

She was the one who gave the order to... destroy me.

Before I could process it, she grabbed a fistful of my hair.

She shoved my head violently underwater.

I thrashed, choking.

She yanked my head up, then shoved me back down again.

Water flooded my nose and throat.

Unable to breathe, blind animal instinct took over. I kicked out and hit her hard.

Hearing the sudden splash, Caspian rushed back into the room.

He saw Lysette on the floor and hurried to help her up, his face full of panic. "Lysette, are you hurt?"

She buried her face in his chest, sobbing wildly. "She still hates me, Sire! It's all my fault. I never should have suggested sending her to the garrison."

"Send me there instead! Let me atone for her suffering!"

Caspian tenderly wiped away her tears. "Don't be ridiculous. How could someone as delicate as you survive in a place like that?"

Then, he shot a venomous glare at me.

"Stay in there and think about what you've done. Wash your filthy body and your rotting soul."

Without another word, he scooped Lysette up in his arms and carried her away.

I sat alone in the cold water. Numbly, I dragged a washcloth across my skin.

But how could hot water wash away a thousand days of endless, brutal humiliation?

Later, the maids dressed me in heavy, restrictive royal gowns.

I sat before the mirror and stared at my reflection.

My skin was dull and dark. My cheeks were hollow, my flesh sagging.

There was not a single trace left of the proud, radiant High Consort I used to be.

The maids timidly brought in plates of delicate pastries.

But just the rich, sweet smell made my stomach churn.

I forced myself to take a small bite of a cake.

Instantly, a stabbing pain ripped through my gut.

After three years of starving on rotten scraps and unmentionable things, my ruined body couldn't handle real food anymore.

I collapsed onto the floor, curling into a tight ball.

I clutched my stomach, groaning and rolling in sheer agony.

"Your Grace! What's wrong?!" a maid screamed, dropping a plate.

"Someone go fetch the Sovereign! Hurry!"