The Ex-Consort Who Hides in the Countryside

Synopsis

The three-year debt had finally come due, and when the High Lord himself arrived at my drafty shack, I was still out in the dirt, tilling the rows. Years ago, I was the High Lord's favorite mistress. Every night, I was called to his chambers until my back throbbed and my legs went numb. The mere shadow of him made my knees buckle and my pulse hammer with fear. So I fled. I made off with a pouch of gold and silver heirlooms, but in less than a year, I'd burned through every cent. Left with nothing, I drifted to this godforsaken border town and found myself a rotting tenant shack. With a few meager strips of earth the neighbors let me work, I spent two years barely staying alive. In such a brutal life, the beauty I once valued had been swallowed by the dust and the grit. When I spotted the High Lord, I broke into a sob and lunged for him, desperate to grab his cloak—but his captain just kicked me aside. I hit the dirt hard at the edge of the patch, and when I looked up, the soldier was sneering at me like I was a mangy cur. "Where did this hag crawl out from? Get lost!" he barked. Kaelen York—what a bastard. Did he even remember how many times I'd saved his miserable hide? Back when the Lord had been ready to hang him, I'd spent every favor I had—on my back, in the Lord's bed—begging for Kaelen's life. And this was the thanks I got. Kaelen had no idea how much I wanted to claw his eyes out as I sat there in the mud. He didn't even look at me, turning instead with a stiff bow toward the High Lord. "My Lord, the scouts report that Elara is taking refuge in this settlement." he reported. Elara Lancaster, the Lord's childhood flame and the only woman he ever truly wanted. Just the sound of her name made the old scar on my shoulder throb again. Back then, I was the Lord's preferred bedmate, while she was the woman the whole High Court expected to be his wife. Naturally, she made it her life's work to break me. Elara, the Commander's daughter, was a shark with a blade—when she cut, she cut deep. She branded the word "trash" right into my skin. She wanted to ensure I never forgot that no matter how much the Lord spoiled me, I was still just a common whore. She shoved me into a frozen lake during the spring thaw, leaving me with a cough that never left. Then, under the blistering July sun, she made me kneel until I blacked out, and my head hasn't stopped pounding since. During the fall hunt, she put an arrow through my gut. I fell into the mud, screaming, and lost the only child I would ever carry. Back then, she leaned down and hissed in my ear, "A gutter-born mistress thinks she can climb the ladder with a brat? You aren't even fit to carry his name." she spat. I was hemorrhaging, blood staining my skirts, while she stood over me with a cold, bored smirk. And behind her, the High Lord just watched, saying nothing. I stared at him, tears blurring my vision. Only the night before, he'd touched my belly, whispering about the son he wanted, promising that once the babe arrived, he'd give me a title. But when his icy eyes met mine, I realized I didn't have the will to fight Elara anymore. She forced a bitter tonic down my throat to ensure I'd never conceive again and told me to vanish. So I ran, because I knew if I stayed, she would put me in the ground.