Chapter 2

Just then, Alina stepped forward and gently tugged at my mother's sleeve.

Alina offered a fragile, broken smile that didn't reach her eyes.

She said, her voice trembling, "Mother... please. Stop fighting it. Just... just let her have what she wants."

"I... I'll go," she added, her voice barely above a whisper.

I stopped struggling and looked at Alina.

She was looking back.

Her eyes held a storm—sadness, reluctance, but clearer than anything, a quiet, desperate plea.

"Serena, this pain... it's my fault. Don't worry. I'll leave. Just... please, don't do this to yourself. Don't put them through this. Blame me. All of it is because of me," Alina said, her voice trembling with guilt.

Her voice was so earnest, almost desperate, as if begging me to forgive her.

For a second, I saw myself through their eyes—the wild one, the aggressor. The villain.

My father let out a long, heavy sigh. It was the sound of surrender.

Alina gave me a slight, formal nod, then turned and walked back to her own wing of the house.

The very next day, Alina quietly left the Evans Estate.

Did I really win this time?

I had the servants move all my things into Alina's old room.

I ordered them to throw out every single thing that had been hers.

The house fell into a strange, heavy silence.

No one whispered where I could hear. No one dared.

I had those two gossiping maids beaten and then sold off, along with their families, to some remote estate.

Making an example out of them sent a clear message to everyone.

But I started to notice my parents growing more and more distant and silent around me.

Maybe I still wasn't doing enough.

So I pushed myself even harder, studying day and night.

I mastered every rule of etiquette, conquered volumes of obscure Latin verse, and practiced the harp until my fingers bled.

I told myself that if I just tried hard enough, things would click into place. That I would finally belong.

The reality was a slap I never expected.

*****

At the spring garden party, I wore my finest gown. I had practiced my smiles.

But Alina's circle of friends sized me up with thinly veiled contempt.

"Well, well, look who it is—the real heiress who sent dear Alina packing from her own home," Natalie Bennett, one of them, sneered.

My face went white, but I tried to keep my composure.

"Ms. Bennett, you are mistaken. She chose to leave herself," I replied, trying to sound steady.

She just laughed, full of mockery.

"Everyone in the city is talking about it. How your parents brought in a wild girl from the backwoods, who made such a scene that she chased their polished, refined daughter right out the door. Lord Evans' name is becoming a laughingstock. And it's all because of you," she sneered.

I was shaking all over with rage.

I was the real heiress. Why did the world see me as the villain?

Natalie leaned in, lowering her voice.

"In a family like the Evans family, who cares about blood? It's grace that matters. Breeding. Reputation. Alina had it all. She was the daughter who brought them pride. But you? What do you bring to the table?" she sneered.

I had no answer. The words died in my throat.

She watched me unravel, her words floating out almost carelessly.

"Did you honestly think they cast her out? Lord and Lady Evans knew you'd never accept her. They'd made arrangements for her weeks ago," she said, her tone light and almost indifferent.

She paused, then continued, her voice tinged with satisfaction, "This morning, Lord Evans went to court himself. He secured her a match. With the Crown Prince."

She looked at me then, a glance full of mock pity.

"You can have the title, the empty house. Play the 'real heiress' all you like," she sneered, her voice thick with sarcasm.

*****

Finding Alina's new residence wasn't difficult.

I stood at the street corner, watching a lavish carriage roll away.

Through its window, I saw the profile of a man—commanding, impossible to overlook.

My parents stood at the doorway, wearing smiles I'd never seen them wear for me.

"Finally, our greatest concern is settled," my father said, his voice brimming with relief and satisfaction.

"His Highness is a man of stature and character. Alina's prospects are now boundless. After all she's been through, things are finally looking up for her," he added, pride shining through his words.

My mother, her voice overflowing with love, held Alina's hand tightly and gave her a heartfelt, careful reminder.

"Sweetheart, at His Highness' palace, remember your manners. But never let anyone treat you poorly. If you ever feel wronged, promise you'll tell us. No matter what, the Evans name will always be yours to lean on," she said, her tone gentle but unwavering.

Alina snuggled into my mother's embrace.

"Father, Mother... I... I don't want to go," Alina said, her voice thick with tears.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't say that. This will always be your home," my mother replied, her voice soft and loving.

That scene of family warmth felt like a branding iron searing into my heart.

Just as they were about to close the great gate, I threw myself against it, blocking their way.

They turned around, their smiles turned stiff, replaced by shock.

I forced my mouth into something like a smile. It felt ugly, worse than a sob.

"Well," I said, and my voice was all sharp edges. "The Crown Princess. What a brilliant match."

My father's face fell, and my mother tried to speak, but I cut her off.

"I remember what I demanded," I said, my voice cold and unyielding.

"Send her back to where she came from. No contact. Not a word. Were those promises just lies to quiet me down? Just pretty words?" I shot back, my voice sharp with anger and disappointment.

"Serena, that's enough!" my mother finally snapped, her voice trembling with both anger and desperation.

She instinctively pulled Alina behind her, shielding her as if I were some kind of threat, her face twisted with worry and frustration.

"Alina... she was raised in silk. That place is all hardship. How could we ever send her back to be swallowed by that?" my mother cried, her voice shaking with concern.

I clutched my stomach, laughing like I'd just heard the most absurd joke in the world.

"Mother, did you forget? I'm the one you birthed. I crawled out of that pit you call 'hardship.' If I could survive it, why can't she?" I snapped, my voice thick with sarcasm.