Chapter 2

When my mother passed away, she was still not officially recognized as the king's concubine.

Her body was carelessly rolled up in a ragged straw mat and dumped in some pauper's graveyard.

Right before she died, she made a point to remind me, "Don't waste money on a tomb for me. Keep the money for emergencies."

Guess this was what Mom was talking about.

Seeing how broke I was, text started popping up, full of questions.

[Is she really a princess? She looks like she's worse off than a beggar.]

[In novels, the kings are always generous in rewarding others. How come his daughter is this broke? Why does she only have a few coins?]

[She's so poor but still trying to save the male lead. She's such a good girl.]

Carla read the comments and gave a wry smile.

With the coins in hand and a bundle of embroidered handkerchiefs to sell, I snuck out of the palace through a hole in the wall, making sure no one saw me.

I grabbed a bunch of ointments and pills, whatever I could get my hands on.

After all that, I barely had a single coin left.

With the medicine in hand, I slipped quietly into Brenda's Windmere Hall.

Dominic was tied to a big tree right outside the entrance to her rooms.

The blood on him had dried into a caked, black mess, and his eyes were closed. I couldn't tell if he was even alive.

Just as I was trying to feed Dominic the medicine, the doors of Windmere Hall suddenly burst open.

A crowd came out, with Brenda smirking at the front, looking like she'd been lying in wait for ages.

Her sharp voice cut through the air. "Carla, you're actually messing around with this slave? I'm dragging you both to see the king right now!"

I freaked out for a split second, but calmed down fast.

I retorted, "Father and all the lords are in the royal study right now. You really want to drag this mess in front of them? How are you gonna explain all the wounds on Dominic?

"If people hear about your venomous acts, do you think the respectable families in the capital would want you to marry into their families?"

For the first time, I managed to put Brenda on the spot. She was furious, but I could see my words made her hesitate.

Her eyes flashed. Clearly, she was already cooking up another scheme.

"I'll just say you did it. I've got all these palace servants to back me up. What do you have?" she sneered.

"Go ahead, do whatever you want. Everyone knows I'm neglected. My words don't carry any weight. Sure, the lords won't say a thing in public, but who knows what they're really saying behind closed doors?" I shot back.

With that, I pretended to march straight toward the royal study.

"Since you're so determined to frame me, then I might as well take matters into my own hands. I'll kill myself in front of Father to defend my honor," I added.

That finally made Brenda panic.

She was scared Dominic would blame her for everything, and she definitely didn't want to get stuck with the reputation of driving her sister to her death.

Brenda quickly stepped in front of me and told the guards to release Dominic and handed him over to me.

Like she always did, Brenda lashed out at Dominic with her whip.

The searing pain snapped Dominic back to consciousness. He staggered and crashed to the ground.

I rushed over, helped Dominic up, and shouted at Brenda, "What are you doing? Since you've already given him to me, he's mine now. You don't get to touch him anymore. Otherwise, I'll go straight to Father."

Brenda's face was livid, but she reluctantly moved aside, clearly hating every second of it.

Dominic was so scrawny, I could help him up without breaking a sweat.

Back at the Serenade Courtyard, I scrounged up all the dry branches for a fire, so I could heat up some water for him to bathe.

Dominic was a total mess. His hair was long and filthy, and it was crawling with lice.

But when I got his clothes off, I realized to my horror that he was covered in cuts and bruises. Some patches of flesh were already dead and rotting, and bugs were crawling everywhere.

I'd seen all kinds of torture in this palace before. But seeing it on a kid like him still made my blood run cold.

Texts were going off, flaming the whole situation. No one could believe someone would go so hard on a kid they barely knew.

I couldn't see why they were so worked up about it.

Brenda had a habit of beating her servants, and around here, life was cheap.

If a servant got beaten to death in any palace, it barely raised an eyebrow.

I absently touched the jagged scars on my hand through my sleeve.

Even I, a princess, had nearly been beaten to death by Brenda a bunch of times.

Before my mother died, she warned me to get out of the palace as soon as I had the chance, saying the royal family was cold as ice, totally heartless.

She'd rather I marry a nobody and live broke than end up just another plaything for the royals, repeating her tragedy.

The king not only had a queen, but numerous concubines and mistresses.

Every night, one could hear the cries of women in despair echoing through those silent palace walls.

If they were lucky, they'd cry for a year and then die.

If not, they'd spend their whole life crying.

My mother spent five years crying herself to sleep. I still didn't know if that was considered lucky or not.

Probably not, because when she died, the hatred in her eyes looked like it could've set the whole palace ablaze.

Amidst all the angry text, one suddenly shot to the top.

[Hey, Carla, I don't think you should be skinned.]

[Me too!]

[Agreed!]