Chapter 2
"This is for your own good," he said, his face stern. "A daughter of the Winterbourne family can't let anyone make a fool of us. The family's reputation is everything."
Mother gently took my hand.
"Elara, you need to be obedient," she said.
I met her gaze and nodded earnestly.
I didn't want to bring them shame.
I'd only just found them. All I wanted was to be a good daughter.
Duchess Helena finally smiled and gently patted my head.
"Such a good girl," she said.
Father's expression softened, too.
That was the first time they'd ever praised me since I came back to Winterbourne Manor.
I was happy for a long time.
Then, a maid came and led me away.
I assumed she was taking me to my room.
As the carriage rolled into Winterbourne Manor, I was struck by the countless windows. There was a five-story white manor, long corridors, and a garden bigger than an entire street in the slums.
The whole way, I kept wondering which window would be mine.
But instead, the maid led me through the main building, taking me farther and farther away.
Finally, we stopped by the stables.
I stared at her, stunned.
"Where's my room?" I asked.
The maid opened the door to a cramped storage room.
Inside, there was nothing but an old wooden bed, some straw, and moldy walls.
"Here," the maid said.
I thought I'd misheard her.
"But I—" I stammered, unsure if I should say it.
I was the duke's daughter.
The words hovered on my lips, but I swallowed them back down.
The maid's expression grew cold.
"Lady Elara, this is for your own good," she said.
For my own good. Again.
"Lady Rosalind has always been frail. Your room was given to her long ago, and Her Grace couldn't bear to make her move out so suddenly," she explained.
I quickly shook my head.
"I never asked her to move," I said.
The maid looked relieved.
"That's good. Her Grace hates seeing sisters fight. Lady Rosalind may not be her biological daughter, but she's the one this family has raised for eighteen years," she said.
I nodded.
This place was still far better than anywhere I'd lived in the slums.
At least the roof didn't leak.
Back then, that was what I believed.
As long as they let me stay, I didn't care where I lived.
But the next day, nobody showed up to let me know it was time to eat.
The third day was the same.
At first, I figured maybe this was how things were done in noble families.
Maybe if you hadn't learned noble manners yet, you weren't allowed to eat at all.
So I kept waiting.
By the fourth day, I was so hungry I couldn't take it anymore, so I snuck into the kitchen.
There was a loaf of white bread, still warm from the oven.
I took just one piece.
But the moment I bit into it, the cook slapped it right out of my hand.
"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped.
Terrified, I quickly picked up the bread.
But she shouted for someone to come over.
Soon, my two brothers showed up.
Then Father arrived.
I was still gripping that bread, now smeared with dust.
His expression was thunderous.
"Elara, did you steal that?" he asked.
"I didn't," I said.
I hurried to explain.
"I was just hungry," I added.
Cedric burst out laughing, like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.
"Hungry?" he scoffed.
He glanced at the kitchen, where food covered every surface.
"How could anyone starve to death in the duke's household?" he sneered.
Adrian frowned.
"Making a mistake isn't the worst thing. But lying would disgrace the entire Winterbourne family," he said.
"I swear, I haven't had anything to eat," I said.
I honestly had no idea how else to explain myself.
"It's been several days," I added.
The room went quiet for a moment.
I thought they'd finally ask why no one had brought me any food.
But just then, Rosalind came rushing in.
She was wearing a gorgeous dress I'd never seen before, and her golden hair was adorned with pearls.
"It's all my fault," Rosalind said softly.
Her eyes welled up with tears.
"Elara just got back, so maybe she's not used to how things work here at Winterbourne Manor yet," she continued, " People from the slums... isn't it normal for them to just take things?"
Everyone fell silent.
Then Father looked at me differently.
It looked like something finally clicked for him.
"I see," he said.
My heart sank.
"No, that's not it at all," I protested.
"Enough," Father cut me off, his voice icy.