Chapter 2

It was his wife's birthday banquet, and Draven made an exception, allowing me to attend.

My eyes burned with unshed tears as I watched the woman on the raised platform, adorned in a feathered phoenix coronet – a cherished heirloom of my mother's.

"Audacious slave! Bow before the Chieftain and his Lady!"

Someone brutally kicked me. My knees slammed against the ground, and my forehead touched the dirt as I numbly performed the bow.

Draven didn't allow me to rise. His face impassive, he said, "Seraphina, you are a good half hour late. Was this a deliberate slight against Celeste?"

"I deserve death."

I bowed again, my forehead hitting the stone floor with a sickening thud.

I offered no defense, no explanation that my legs, still weak from my confinement, meant the walk took over four hours.

A flicker of scorn crossed Draven's face. "You've certainly learned your lesson, haven't you?"

The last time I was disobedient, he had me locked in a beast cage, and half my blood was drained to quench the thirst of his animals.

When I was on the verge of death, he would turn around and order rare elixirs and treasures to be found, just barely keeping me alive.

"My dear sister, please rise. After all, you were once noble-born. Even if your kingdom is gone, why still consider yourself a common wretch?"

Celeste Sterling herself helped me up, her sweet words a cruel knife twisting into my most painful wounds.

Noticing the wolf-fang bracelet wrapped around my wrist, a flash of covetous surprise lit her eyes.

She said she adored it and wanted it as a birthday gift.

I glanced at Draven. He showed no reaction.

This was a gift from Draven years ago, an ancestral treasure of his tribe. Each wolf fang was a potent medicinal ingredient, imbued with an exotic scent that never faded.

Long-term wear was said to soothe pain and prolong life.

I had been frail and sickly since childhood. When he gave it to me, he said he wished me a lifetime of peace and health.

"If Lady Celeste desires it, how could a mere slave refuse?"

I unclasped it from my wrist and placed it in Celeste's hand.

As I averted my gaze, I faintly heard the sound of an overturned wine chalice from the platform.

Celeste toyed with the wolf-fang bracelet, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, right. I recall my sister was once known as a dancer whose movements once captivated the entire capital. Perhaps you could favor us with a performance tonight?"

I numbly endured the malicious, spectating stares from the banquet guests.

There were the Beast Tribe's war chiefs.

And there were the traitors who had once conspired from within, throwing open the gates of the Thorne Kingdom.

But I had no right to refuse.

A bowl of scalding hot soup was thrown at me, instantly searing my skin and stripping away a layer.

"What are you standing around for, stunned? You're lucky to even be alive! Get on with it!"

As if immune to the pain, I rose on my toes.

I transformed myself into a mere dancer for their amusement.

The wild, untamed spirit of the plains meant inhibitions were often shed. The rowdy men, still unsatisfied, began to clamor for me to strip. Draven's gaze, cold and deep, was fixed on me from afar, a silent acquiescence.

I bit my lip, then began to unfasten my sash.

My clothes clung to my burnt flesh, tearing away, leaving raw, bloody patches.

One by one, I shed my garments in this very place that once held countless beautiful memories of my past.

The tears still fell.

I wasn't allowed to stop until the banquet finally concluded.

Draven, reeking of wine, approached me. His icy fingertips brushed against the damp streaks on my face, wiping away a single tear.

But his voice was utterly devoid of feeling: "Seraphina, are you intentionally trying to gain sympathy from me?"

"No, my Lord. I wouldn't dare."

But as the words left my lips, the illness within me flared again.

I coughed up blood right in front of him, feeling as though every organ in my body would be expelled.

Draven recoiled in disgust, a sneer on his face.

"I've seen your sickly pretense for ten years, haven't you put on enough of an act?"

I once believed he despised my delicacy and weakness.

Yet, over the years, he had been exceptionally kind to Celeste.

Celeste only needed to furrow her brow slightly, and the royal physicians would be kneeling at her door, awaiting her command.

The insidious virus gnawed at me. My body trembled, and cold sweat beaded on my forehead.

Before I lost consciousness, I thought I saw a flicker of panic in Draven's eyes.

He gritted his teeth and said, "Seraphina, I won't let you die easily. You *must* live to atone!"

But my atonement… it wouldn't be finished.

In two more days, I would surely die.

The next morning, I woke to find my burns had been treated.

I vaguely realized this wasn't my usual desolate chambers.

Then I remembered. This was where Father used to hold my brother and me, teaching us to read and write. Mother would bring us freshly made food.

I couldn't even recall what her dishes tasted like anymore.

"You're awake."

Draven approached, his face expressionless. He gripped my chin, forcing a bowl of intensely bitter blood tonic down my throat.

His strength was immense. I choked, my eyes watering.

"Seraphina, don't look at me with such pitiful eyes."

Draven let out a cold laugh. "Even if your hands are clean and untouched by my people's blood, as long as you were born here, you are not innocent."

The day my kingdom fell, he had everyone here slaughtered.

Even the formed child in my womb, his own flesh and blood, he hadn't spared.

He had left only me alive.

I didn't understand… was this love, or hate?

It must be hate.