Chapter 1
My father was nothing but a lowly stableman, but his ambitions reached far higher.
He drugged the great General Edward Hawthorne with a potent aphrodisiac, locked me in a room with him, and let nature take its course.
My virtue, stolen. My father was expecting Edward to take me as his concubine.
But when Edward's beloved cousin, Isabelle Sutton, learned of what happened, she drowned herself in the river.
In cruel retaliation, Edward had me carried into his home with a grand wedding procession, not as a concubine, but as his lawful wife.
On our wedding night, he tenderly coaxed me to eat a bowl of meatballs and gently wiped my lips.
Then he leaned close, his voice icy. "Tell me... how does your father's flesh taste?"
Before I could react, he added, cold and calm, "Oh, I forgot to mention. The one you married tonight... isn't me."
A black wild boar was dragged forward.
"It's him."
In front of the entire army camp, I was stripped bare and forced to mate with the beast.
The next day, I swallowed gold to end my shame.
But Edward ordered the military surgeon to revive me, using a rare mandrake root.
His face was twisted with hatred.
"You will live," he snarled. "You will live and suffer until you've atoned for Isabelle."
With the last of my strength, I dashed my head against a stone.
"Edward..." I gurgled through the blood. "If there's a second chance... I never want to see you again."
As the world faded, I thought I saw the military camp engulfed in flames...
And an unexpected person, rushing through the fire, trying to save me.
*****
I awoke back in that cursed room, locked in with Edward.
His body was burning up, his breath scalding. He had already torn open the front of my dress.
But his expression was all arrogance and contempt.
Edward sneered, "Using such a cheap trick? You really are shameless. Don't think for a moment I'll fall into your trap this time."
My blood ran cold. Edward had come back, too.
In my previous life, my father's ambition blinded him. He thought he could marry me into Edward's family, never realizing the general's heart belonged to another, Isabelle Sutton.
The day after Edward slept with me, Isabelle marched to the river outside the camp, intent on making a scene.
She never meant to die. But it was flood season. The moment she stepped into the current, it swept her away.
By the time they pulled her out, she was nothing but a bloated corpse.
Edward's grief curdled into madness.
He had my father drawn and quartered, his flesh ground into meatballs, which he then fed to me.
Then, before the entire camp, he pinned me down and forced me upon that boar.
I cried until my tears ran dry, then cried tears of blood.
In the end, I clung to Edward's leg, begging him to end my misery.
He cupped my face, his voice colder than winter frost. "I will make you live in hell every day of this life."
When I bit through my tongue, desperate to die, Edward snapped. He threatened every surgeon with execution if they failed to save me.
Not even the gods could have taken me then.
With my last breath, I whispered, "Edward, you hate me so deeply... May our paths never cross again."
Who could have guessed I'd get to live it all over?
Now, Edward's breathing grew ragged, his gaze clouded as his hands tightened around my waist.
"No. Not again. This time, I have to save Isabelle..." he muttered.
I took a sharp breath and drew the sword from his belt.
Steel flashed coldly. I saw his pupils contract.
"In this life," I said, "let's have nothing to do with each other."
And without hesitation, I drove the blade into his thigh.
Blood welled up in dark streaks. Edward grunted in pain, his brow furrowing as his grip on me loosened.
"That should clear your head," I said coldly.
I dropped the sword and walked out without looking back.
*****
My father and I scraped by in the army camp. He was a low-ranking stablemaster. I helped where I could, mending feed sacks, tending horses, surviving.
With seven kingdoms warring for power, I never dreamed of climbing the ranks. I only wanted a safe, quiet life.
But now, there was no staying in Edward's camp.
I dug out a few scraps of worn parchment and wrote to an old friend.
[There is no place for me in Valoria anymore. I hope to bring my father to Eldoria soon. Can you shelter us?]
His name was Leonard Kingsley. We met ten years ago, when we were both just children.
He was a prince of Eldoria, sent to Valoria as a hostage, beaten and scorned every day.
I pitied him. I gave him some bread.
His face was smudged with dirt as he clutched the bread, vowing, "I will repay you one day."
A decade has passed. I have no idea what kind of man he has become, back in his own kingdom.