Chapter 3

"I'm still in mourning for another year, so something plain and modest in a somber color will do," I said.

Normally, even the fine, embroidered, cotton-padded outfits were just what the servants in my family wore.

Then I fished out another 10 silvers and pressed them into Anthony's hand.

"Grab some fine cloth and cotton," I said. "Your clothes are all falling apart. I'll sew two new sets for everyone. Let's swap out the bedding and covers too..."

Stephen frowned, reached into the pouch at my waist, dug out another 10 silvers, and tossed them to Anthony.

"Just do as she said," he told him, "and pick up some flour, meat, and veggies."

Anthony clutched the silvers, leaned against the doorframe, and grinned.

He grinned, teasing, "Well, look who's finally coughing up some silvers! What about that secret stash you've got hidden under your bed?"

"Get lost!" Stephen snapped.

While Anthony was out shopping, I braced myself against the biting cold in the little washroom next to the kitchen and gave myself a thorough scrub.

There were several scabbed-over wounds on my body, some starting to fester. I gritted my teeth and pried them open, cleaning them as best I could.

I used up an entire pot of hot water, barely managing to wash myself from head to toe. Most of it was spent trying to clean that one area.

So filthy... So filthy... No matter how much I scrubbed, I still felt dirty.

While washing my hair, I buried my face in the bucket, part of me wishing I could just stay under and never come up.

But the thought of Sebastian, probably living it up in the princess's mansion in the Capital, filled me with so much hatred that it forced me to pull my head out of the water.

I gasped, struggling for breath.

The suffocating feeling made me gulp for air, unable to stop myself.

Not long after, a fresh blue-gray cotton jacket was handed into the washroom through the curtain.

Tucked inside were a bottle of healing salve and a few clean bandages.

From outside the curtain, Anthony called out, "You reek of blood; must've gotten hurt. This medicine's from Dad... Go ahead and use it."

I picked up the salve and gave it a sniff.

Imperial Elixir... This was royal medicine, super rare and precious.

Over the years, it had only ever been given to a few top generals at the frontier, and my grandfather, a big name in the literary world.

When I was a kid, I was always getting into scrapes and bumps. My grandfather believed that girls shouldn't be left with scars.

Since I was the only true daughter in the family, they always made sure I got it first.

I recognized that scent the moment I smelled it.

These three brothers barely scrape by. They can't even afford a decent shirt, so how on earth did they get their hands on medicine like this?

Come to think of it, one of those generals was named Wallaker. He got branded a traitor and enemy collaborator a few years ago.

But he only had a daughter.

And his whole clan got wiped out, not a single soul left.

I shoved all those questions to the back of my mind, dabbed the salve on my wounds, wrapped them up with bandages, and slipped into the new jacket.

As soon as I stepped out of the washroom, Anthony dragged me over behind the stove and started drying my hair with a towel.

The fire burning under the stove made my face feel nice and warm.

Meat and veggies were simmering in the pot, filling the air with a mouthwatering aroma.

I thought of that rat Stephen had drained and skinned, and for a moment, I felt grossed out. But I couldn't help but give myself a bitter, self-deprecating smile.

After dinner, the three brothers all went back to their rooms, and nobody mentioned the whole shoe ritual.

I curled up under the patchwork quilt, still fully dressed, dreading the idea of having to put out the shoes.

But I didn't really have a choice.

I'd heard stories about this custom back in the Capital.

If a woman didn't put shoes at her husband's door—unless she had a really good excuse—it would only piss them off. At best, she'd get a beating.

I took a deep breath, climbed out of bed, slipped on the new shoes Anthony had bought for me, and grabbed my old, battered slippers. Then I made my way to Stephen's room.