Chapter 2

This night dragged on forever.

I was jolted awake by the pain.

The heavy ache in my belly had faded into a dull, numb throb. The blood beneath me was both crusted and wet, sticky enough to make me want to gag.

It was morning now. Outside, laughter and cheerful voices drifted in.

"Your Grace, look how beautiful the snow is! I want to go to the rose garden and pick a few blooms for the vase," Isabelle called out.

Her voice was soft, sweet, and carried a seductive allure that could melt anyone to their core.

"Alright, let me carry you. The ground's slippery. I don't want you to slip and fall," Edward said, his voice so tender it could practically drip honey.

He was nothing like the heartless monster I'd faced last night. Almost as if he were a completely different person.

I struggled toward the door, my nails raking bloody lines across the cold stone tiles. "Open the door... let me out..." My voice was barely more than a whisper.

Through the crack in the door, I watched Edward giving Isabelle a piggyback ride across the courtyard. They looked like a picture-perfect pair, as if they were made for each other.

Isabelle clung to his back, her laughter bubbling over and making her whole body tremble with delight.

Then, as if by accident, she turned her head, her gaze slicing through the narrow gap and landing on my face with uncanny precision.

There was nothing weak in her eyes. Just blatant challenge and smug triumph.

She leaned close to Edward's ear, her voice syrupy and coy. "Your Grace, Charlotte is still locked up inside. Isn't it freezing? What if she catches a chill? Maybe you should let her out. I want her to join me to see the roses."

Edward paused and then snorted coldly. "She's tough as nails. Let her freeze a bit. It might knock some sense into her. Just ignore her. She always ruins the mood."

"But..." Isabelle feigned concern, "Charlotte is with child, after all... Even if you say it's false, what if something really happens?"

Edward cut her off, his voice sharp and final, "That woman would do anything to fight for my favor. If something was really wrong, she'd be screaming loud enough to wake the whole estate. Instead, she's just sitting there quietly."

I tried to cry out, but all I could manage was a broken, raspy gasp, barely louder than a dying breath.

Last night's agony had me biting my tongue so hard that now I couldn't even string together a single word.

They walked away, and I leaned hopelessly against the door, my tears already dried.

I had no idea how long had passed when I finally heard the bolt scrape back.

A few servant women barged in, carrying cold, rock-hard bread rolls and a glass of water.

"Duchess, time for your meal," the lead servant announced. She slammed the glass onto the floor, splashing water all over me.

"Whoa, what's with that strong stench of blood?" Another servant pinched her nose, shooting me a look of pure disgust. "Are you on your courses? Don't even bother to clean yourself up. How filthy."

"Her courses? Please. She's just playing another of her dirty tricks." The first one snorted.

They laughed, their words dripping with contempt.

In this estate, everyone knew I was just the Duchess in name, unloved, unwanted, and even the servants walked all over me.

"I want to see... His Grace..." I forced out, my voice barely more than a whisper.

The lead servant let out a mocking laugh and kicked the bread rolls aside. "See His Grace? Save your breath. His Grace is with Lady Isabelle in the garden, and he's made it clear that no one is allowed to disturb them."

She crouched down and patted my face, not too hard, but every bit of it was dripping with insult." If you're hungry, Duchess, crawl on the floor and eat those rolls. His Grace said that it's all you deserve."

With that, they strutted out, slamming the door shut and locking it behind them.

The bread rolls tumbled across the floor, ending up covered in dust and my blood.

I stared at those dirty rolls, and suddenly, I just started laughing. My laughter quickly turned into tears, streaming down my face.

So this was Edward's idea of love. He had crushed my dignity beneath his heel and let even the servants disgrace me. If this was what it meant to be the Duchess, then I would rather throw the title away.

I propped myself up, forcing my battered body to crawl inch by inch toward the small chest of cosmetics beside the bed. Inside, a pill was hidden away.

It was the life-saving elixir my mentor had given me, my last lifeline. If I took it, I would regain my strength and finally leave this hell behind.

But just as my hand brushed the chest, hurried footsteps echoed outside the door.

The door burst open. Isabelle rushed in, panic written all over her face, with Edward right behind her, his expression cold and grim.

"Charlotte! What's wrong?" Isabelle called out. She lunged forward, clamping down on my hand as I reached for the pill, her sharp nails biting into my flesh.

"Your Grace! Charlotte is sneaking something! I sent her nourishing broth out of kindness, but she wouldn't touch it. Instead, she's hiding some suspicious pill. Is she trying to harm me?" Isabelle cried out.