Chapter 2
But the crash I was expecting never came.
The horses were yanked to a halt, their front hooves flailing wildly in the air.
The black-clad rider leaned down from his horse and seized my wrist.
"Suicidal?" he asked, his words cutting through the night.
His voice was as cold as midwinter ice.
I looked up, straight into a pair of bottomless, unfathomable eyes.
It was Sebastian Ashford, Julian's uncle, the court's grim reaper.
What was he doing on this road tonight?
Ethan lurched forward, dragging me behind him. His wounded leg nearly buckled.
"Your Highness, please forgive my sister. She... she wasn't thinking straight," Ethan stammered.
Sebastian's eyes flicked over Ethan's mangled, bloody leg, then landed back on my face.
"Ms. Sutton, throwing herself under horses for attention?" Sebastian said, his voice icy with contempt.
I shook off Ethan's grip and gave Sebastian a respectful bow.
"Sorry for interrupting your travel, Your Highness. I'll pay for any trouble caused," I said, keeping my tone humble.
"Pay?" Sebastian arched an eyebrow, his voice icy. "With your life?"
Before I could answer, Ethan cut in, anxious, "Bethany is to be the Crown Prince's... companion. Please, Your Grace, about tonight..."
"Companion?" Sebastian interrupted with a sneer. "That's odd. I heard the Crown Prince got married today. He took a wife, not a 'companion'."
Ethan's face went ghostly pale.
Sebastian didn't spare him another glance.
"If you're so eager to die, why not come with me? The border needs more bodies for the suicide squads," Sebastian said to me, his voice as cold as ice.
The hoofbeats faded into the darkness, and I just stood there, numb with cold.
Ethan reached for me, his hand shaking uncontrollably.
"Bethany, let's go home. Let me patch you up," he said, his voice shaky.
I pulled away from his hand, my eyes landing on his leg. Blood was still streaming down.
"Shouldn't you tend to your own wound first?" I asked, my voice cold.
He froze, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes.
"You... you still care about me?" he stammered, his voice trembling.
I let out a cold laugh.
"I'm only worried you'll drop dead here, and I'll have to deal with your corpse," I said, my voice icy.
The light in his eyes died instantly.
In the carriage, he silently bandaged his wound, his hands moving with practiced ease.
There was a time he would have tended to me first, even for a scratch.
"Once Lila gets better, we'll petition His Majesty. We'll have your birthright restored," he said quietly.
He spoke in a low voice, almost like he was trying to convince himself.
"We've wronged you all these years. That's our fault. But Lila really doesn't have much time left." His voice trembled.
I stared out the window at the night racing by.
Fifteen years ago, I died in an orphanage bed, sick and alone.
When I opened my eyes again, I was Bethany Sutton, the six-year-old heiress of Sutton Manor.
I heard a voice in my head.
It said, "Win the affection of your three brothers and the Crown Prince. Win the Prince's vow, and your life will be extended."
Back then, I truly believed it was a gift from the universe.
I had a loving family, noble birth, and a future with Julian, the Crown Prince I'd grown up with.
Then Lila came.
When she coughed blood, they took mine.
When she had nightmares, they gave her my courtyard to "heal."
When she liked my necklace, Leonard would just take it off my neck and give it to her himself.
When she wished to marry Julian, suddenly I was the thief, accused of stealing her true love.
Over the ten years, I'd cried, raged, and kicked up a fuss. Now I just felt nothing.
The carriage pulled up in front of Sutton Manor.
The gates were wide open, music and laughter spilling out from inside.