Chapter 2
"If I really wanted to take credit, I would have claimed that embroidery was mine three years ago," I said coldly.
Three years ago, at our grandmother's birthday banquet, all the high-society ladies of Captiaum gathered.
Scarlett showcased an embroidery called "Birds" before everyone.
Everyone praised her, saying she was clever and talented, the most gifted young lady in Captiaum.
But only I knew the truth. I spent three months stitching every thread by hand.
Scarlett didn't even know how to hold a needle right.
"How dare you bring that up!" Scarlett snapped, her face twisting with anger.
"That embroidery should've been mine. You're just a bastard. How could someone like you get so much praise?" Scarlett sneered.
Tessa immediately chimed in to support her daughter.
"Scarlett is the rightful daughter of Sutton's estate. Everything good should belong to her," Tessa said, her tone dripping with pride.
She looked at me with utter disdain. "It was a privilege for you to be allowed to embroider for Scarlett. And you still dare to claim credit for it?"
I let out a cold, mocking laugh. "I'm not taking credit. I'm just telling it like it is."
Scarlett stood up and slowly paced around me, making a mocking sound with her tongue.
She said, her voice full of smug satisfaction. "Roselyn, you know what? After Quentin left today, he sent a message.
"He said the girl he wanted to marry was the one from St. Lorence Church, the one who could do double-sided, two-tone embroidery."
My heart dropped.
That double-sided, two-tone embroidery was a secret technique I'd learned from my late mother, an embroideress.
Back at St. Lorence Church, to thank him for saving my life, I'd gifted him a handkerchief with a rose stitched in two colors on both sides.
He'd never forgotten.
"So you really think you can use your so-called talent to rise above your station and become a princess?" Scarlett sneered.
Suddenly, she whipped out a pair of scissors from her sleeve and brandished them at my embroidery hand.
"Listen up, Roselyn. As long as I am here, you can forget about getting what you want!" Scarlett hissed.
"Mother!" Scarlett called out, turning to Tessa. "If I can't marry Quentin, neither can this bitch!
"We can't let the Sutton family be humiliated!"
Tessa eyed the sharp scissors, her gaze gleaming with cruel satisfaction.
She fixed her gaze on me, her voice icy. "Scarlett is right.
"Roselyn, if your hands are so good at tempting men, then you don't need them anymore.
"Today, for Scarlett, I'll cut out this root of disaster!"
The cold metal of the scissors pressed against the back of my hand.
I could feel just how sharp the blade was. One little push, and it would cut right through my skin and ruin my hand for good.
Finally, I spoke, my voice hoarse. "Please, don't."
These hands were the only thing I could rely on in this merciless Sutton family.
With these hands, I could make the prettiest patterns, earn a bit of coin, and remind myself I was still human, still living.
"Now you're scared?" Scarlett sneered, her voice full of triumph.
She let out a mocking laugh, raised the scissors, and stabbed down at my hand without a second thought.
I shut my eyes tight, waiting for the pain to hit.
But the pain I braced for never came.
"Stop!" A furious shout rang out from the doorway. It was our father, Sebastian Sutton.
He stormed in, his face livid as he took in the chaos.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he barked.
Tessa and Scarlett were startled.
"Sebastian..." Tessa stammered.
"Father," Scarlett whispered.
My father glanced at me kneeling on the floor, the scissors glinting beside my hand, and instantly understood what was going on.
But his rage wasn't aimed at them. It was all directed at me.
"It's you again! Can't you just behave for once?" he roared.
He kicked me hard in the shoulder, knocking me to the ground.
"Do you want me to beat you to death before you stop making trouble?" he shouted.
I lay sprawled on the cold floor, coughing hard, feeling like my insides had been shaken loose.
Scarlett immediately rushed over, grabbing Sebastian's leg and sobbing loudly.
Scarlett wailed, "Father, don't blame Roselyn. It's all my fault. I'm the useless one.
"I'm not worthy of Quentin. I'll go to the church and pray for our family. I only ask you not to punish Roselyn anymore."
Her words made my father's heart ache for her even more.
"Nonsense," My father said, pulling her to her feet. "You're the rightful daughter of the Sutton family. Who dares say you're not worthy?"
He shot me a cold, icy glare. "I'll explain things to Quentin."
"As for you..." He paused, then snapped out his verdict. "Tomorrow morning, you'll face the family punishment.
"Keep beating her until she realizes what she did wrong."
The so-called family punishment meant being forced to kneel on shards of broken porcelain in the family church.
The punishment lasted from the crack of dawn until the sun dipped below the horizon.
By then, my knees were a bloody mess, stabbed through and through. Every breath made the pain in my bones throb even worse.
My father stood at the front of the family church, stone-faced as he looked down at me.
"Are you ready to confess you were wrong?" he asked, his voice icy and unforgiving.
I lifted my head, my lips were cracked and dry, and said hoarsely, "I did nothing wrong."
Snap! A whip came down hard across my back.
"You still won't repent!" My father barked.