Chapter 4

I held her tiny body, feeling her bones stick out along her back. At fourteen, she should have been sprightly and growing; instead, she was pitifully thin.

Leila and Sarah. I'd make them pay for this, sooner or later.

I released Alena from my embrace but still held her hand. "Give Lady Alena a bath and clean clothes. And make some healthy food for her."

I turned to Alena. "Take a bath, get changed, and have something to eat. We'll deal with everything else later."

Alena nodded timidly.

Once the maid led her away, I turned to Frank and the other maids, who were waiting for my next order.

"Listen carefully," I said, my voice icy. "From today forward, there's only one heiress in this manor, Alena Levine. The three who just left are no longer part of this household.

"If anyone dares to help them behind my back or spread rumors—"

I paused. "You'll face the consequences."

All of them responded in unison, their voices trembling.

I waved them off and stood alone in the quiet room.

The setting sun poured through the windows, casting a long shadow behind me.

The anger and determination I felt just now faded, leaving me feeling utterly tired.

Fourteen years as a wife and a mother. All of it ended in a heartbeat.

It hurt, but my heart burned with cold bitterness and searing rage.

How could they be so self-righteous? How could they dismiss my daughter as if she didn't exist?

Was it because Alena grew up without a proper family and wasn't good enough? Or because Juliette was raised to be all "royal" and supposedly more fit for some fancy alliance?

To hell with their so-called dignity and marriage alliances.

My daughter didn't need a marriage alliance to prove her worth. As long as she was happy, nothing else mattered.

No one got to hurt her ever again. No one.

I took a deep breath and headed back to my room.

Alena was still waiting for me.

From this day forward, she was the only one I had left. And I would make her understand that her mother was the Grand Princess, the most protective mother in the world.

Alena was in the bath for so long that I nearly went in myself to check on her.

A maid came out, her voice shaky. "Your Highness, Lady Alena is covered in wounds."

My heart tightened. "What kind of wounds?"

"Whip scars, burn marks, and scars from frostbite all over her hands and feet, and—" Her voice faltered. "You need to see for yourself."

I lifted the curtain and stepped inside.

Alena was in fresh pajamas, sitting at the bed's edge, hair wet and draped over her shoulders. She flinched at the noise, trying to pull her sleeves down instinctively.

"Don't move," I said quietly, walking over and gently holding her wrist.

She trembled, but didn't pull away.

I rolled up her sleeve.

Her arms were a map of scars. Whip marks, burn scars, and dark spots from frostbitten skin that had healed badly.

I checked her other hand, her back, and her legs. Every scar I saw made my blood boil.

It must be Sarah and her husband's doing. How dare they?

"Does it hurt?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I touched the scars.

Alena shook her head, then nodded, murmuring, "It used to hurt, but not anymore."

She'd gotten used to the pain.

I closed my eyes, trying to suppress the murderous rage boiling inside me.

"It won't hurt anymore," I said, straightening her sleeve. "From now on, if anyone dares to lay a finger on you, I'll chop their hand off myself."

She looked up at me, confused, as if she wasn't used to someone standing up for her so directly.

I ruffled her hair. "Come on, let's grab some food."

There was coffee and delicate pastries on the table. Alena sat there, staring at the coffee for a long moment before carefully picking it up.

She drank slowly and carefully, not wasting a single sip.

After finishing it, she glanced at the pastries, then looked up at me.

"Do you want some more?" I asked.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

I asked the maid to bring more over.

After she finished all of them, she started to slow down. When she set her spoon aside, I noticed she kept eyeing the plate of cake.

"Try it if you like," I said. "Everything here is yours."

That was when she finally reached out, picked up a piece, and nibbled at it in tiny bites. As she ate, tears welled up and dropped onto the cake.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my heart tightening. "Don't you like it?"

She shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, her voice trembling with tears. "It's really good."

It tasted so good that she couldn't believe it was real.

My nose stung as I pulled her into my arms. "From now on, you can have this every day. Whatever it is, I'll make sure you get it."

She buried her face in my shoulder, sobbing quietly. When she cried herself out, she drifted off to sleep.

I put her on my bed and tucked her in. Even asleep, she frowned, gripping the blanket like she was scared it would all disappear if she let go.

I sat by her side for a long time. It wasn't until night fell that I got up and went to my study.

"Where's Leila?" I asked the guard standing by the door.

"She's locked up in the dungeon, just as you said. We made sure she stayed alive," the guard replied.

"What about Sarah and her husband?" I asked.

"They've been taken as well, locked up somewhere else," the guard replied.

I tapped the table over and over.

I said, "Go to Phillip's hometown tomorrow and get his parents here. Drag them over if you have to."

The guard looked up. "Are you saying—"

"Isn't he obsessed with his reputation?" I sneered. "I'll make sure he's utterly humiliated."

Sure, Phillip worked hard to earn his title, but it was I who paid for his trip. And when his parents were pushed around back home, I was the one who had it taken care of.

Even now, his parents swagger around their hometown, abusing their status as the princess's parents-in-law to lord it over everyone else.

Did they think I was so easy to push around?