Edgar had enough. "Get her up. If she resists again, call for the guards. But do not harm her."
Inside, humiliation churned with helpless rage. She had no voice here, no power to stop what was happening. All she could do was endure it, though every moment of it felt like a blade carving into her very soul.
In the next room, Lilian sat having her tea, and across from her sat Henry, perched on the edge of a wooden chair, his hands clasped tightly in his lap to hide his nervousness.
"Your niece," Lilian said, her tone casual as if she were remarking on a piece of furniture rather than a human being. "I do hope she was well-bred."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Henry said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach the corners of his eyes. "We made sure that she was brought up with proper decorum and taught to respect the ways of nobility despite, of course, her miserable situation."
"Unfortunate circumstances?"
"Ah, yes, well," stammered the uncle, fidgeting with the collar of his coat as drops of sweat broke out on his forehead. "Her parents' untimely passing, you see. We took her in as our own, gave her a home, an education, and saw to it that she was groomed to one day be a suitable match for… someone."
Her eyes never looked away from him.
Henry's forced smile wavered. "We saw a chance to do good service to the crown, Your Majesty," he said rapidly, his voice climbing into desperation. "It was my wife's suggestion, to be True with you," he thought. It seemed to her that she really did think this could help the crown—and Liora herself.
Lilian scoffed as she set her cup again in its saucer. "Indeed. Let us talk over the question of indemnity, then."
Henry's throat seemed to shut up tight on the swallow, but he gave his head a jerking nod.
"You shall get two hundred gold pieces," she said without any buildup, her tone carrying finality.
"Two hundred?" This amount put Henry in thought.
Evelyn's voice was ringing in his mind now: "Be sure you bring back a good return on your investment. We're wasting enough to send her away."
He had a hard time swallowing that one down, mustering his nerve to speak aloud. "Your Majesty, if I might… Liora was raised in luxury. Her education and her training cost nothing? Is she not worth so much more?"
Lilian's eyes pierced through him. She reached for her cup yet again, but before she could say a word, Edgar interrupted.
"Your Majesty," the steward said to her. "There has been an incident with the girl."
"She resisted the attendants who were tasked with preparing her. In the scuffle, she shoved one of them, sending her stumbling backward into a basin of hot water."
The queen's lips tightened into a thin line, and her bright gaze snapped back to Liora's uncle. "And you told me she was raised with manners?"
The uncle's face flared with shame, and he cast his eyes to the floor. "I... I assure you, Your Majesty, she might just be scared. She is normally..."
"Spare me your excuses," Lilian interrupted, cutting through his words. "If this is the girl you bring to my court, then I question the validity of every claim you've made about her."
Henry's head drooped further down, his palms now drenched with sweat.
"Deal with her. Use force if you have to. Lock her up if she keeps resisting until she knows her place."
"As you order, Your Majesty."
Lilian's eyes returned to Henry, her face cold. "Two hundred pieces," she said again, her tone leaving no room for argument. "And consider yourself fortunate that I am still willing to grant even that much after this display."
The uncle nodded, bowing his head, his voice barely audible as he muttered, "Thank you, Your Majesty."
For Henry, it was a humiliation he would never forget.
Liora sat on the floor, her knees curled up to her chest. She cried, thinking of all the things that had happened to her within the span of two days. Even when she tried to escape, fate did not help her.
"I'm so sorry," Liora sobbed, looking at the maid she had harmed unknowingly. "I didn't mean to hurt you… I wasn't thinking, I..."
The maid laughed loudly, cutting across Liora's apology. "Save that apology. You really believe an apology will wash over it?" She planted her hands on her waist and scowled downward, leaning toward Liora. "You're only here to be some irritation to the prince, who isn't even worth that..."
Liora's eyes leapt up, still dripping with tears. "What... what did you just say?"
"Oh? So you don't understand?"
"Mara!" the other maid hissed, pulling on her arm. "Enough of that!"
But Mara shrugged her off with a sarcastic smile. "She should know. She is here as a concubine, after all—sent to someone who does not even have status."
Liora's breath caught in her throat. "What are you talking about? What had—"
Mara interrupted. "You should not consider yourself lucky that you're here. Don't go acting like you're someone important."
The words hit Liora like a slap, each syllable digging deeper into her already wounded pride.
Mara, seeing the look of shock on Liora's face, smiled even wider. "And do you even know why he's called the 'lost prince'? Do you know what he did?"
"Mara, stop!" the other maid urged, stepping between them.
But before Mara could say more, an old woman entered the room. She was one of the palace's midwives.
"Get her on her feet."
Mara heard the orders and didn't hesitate. She reached out and gripped Liora tightly, forcing her to stand. Liora wobbled, her mind too clouded by the events so far to protest.
The midwife's gaze swept over Liora's disheveled appearance, her eyes sharp and assessing. She stepped closer, her voice soft yet firm. "The queen dowager has ordered me to examine you. If you do not cooperate, you will be locked away, out of sight, until she decrees otherwise."
Liora's lips parted as if to argue, but no words came out. Her mouth twitched, desperate to speak for herself, but she had already seen the queen dowager's face. That woman could harm her, and no one would dare to question it.
Liora calculated the consequences of resisting. There was no escape.
"Do you understand?"
She nodded faintly. "Yes."
"Good." The midwife turned to the maids. "You two, make sure she does not flinch when I check her."
The next hour was pure humiliation. Held down on the bed by the maids, Liora could only tremble as a stranger—albeit a woman—examined her. Her lower body ached, her fingers curled into fists, and silent tears slipped down her cheeks.
By the time it was over, the verdict was given.
Liora was pure.
Henry had his payment.
And she… she had been sold.
Was there no escape for her?
Liora lay on the bed, her body curled in on itself. She had cried so long that her eyes burned, and her throat felt raw. Alone in the room, she hummed softly—a melody she barely remembered, one her mother used to hum when she was little.
At first, she hadn't even noticed she was doing it. It was something she did when things became too heavy, too hard to bear. The tune had once been a comfort, back when her mother would brush her hair or hold her close.
Now, it reminded her of everything she had lost.
Everything she never truly had at all.
Her eyes darted around the room. It wasn't what she had expected. A proper bed, soft blankets, no rats, no damp floors. A lantern glowed warmly in the corner, casting a soft light over the simple wooden furniture.
It was nicer than anything she had been given at the Miral household.
Back then, she had been asked to move out of her own room so Petra could stay in it. Evelyn and Henry had her relocated to the small room near the kitchen.
But even here, in this new space, she felt the same. It wasn't comforting. It was suffocating—like she was trapped in a box, waiting to be delivered.
Liora swallowed hard, her fingers clutching at her dress. Tomorrow, they would take her to meet the queen dowager again, and after that… him. Her new husband.
Her lips quivered at the thought.
It was against her will. Even when she had tried to run, it had done nothing. She couldn't escape now—the palace walls were too high, its gates too heavily guarded.
And to make it worse, she still couldn't remember everything from the night before. She recalled the carriage, the other girls inside… but then—nothing. Only a sharp prick, the sensation of something being injected into her. The next thing she knew, she had woken up in this room.
When the midwife confirmed her virginity, Liora had at least understood that nothing had happened to her. But how had she ended up here?
Her mind spun with questions she couldn't answer.
But no answer would change the truth—she didn't belong here.
She never belonged anywhere.
For tonight, though, all she could do was lay down on the bed, pulling the blanket over her as if it could shield her from the world. The fabric smelled faintly of lavender,,a soft, clean scent that only made her feel smaller.
She was too tired to cry anymore.
'This is it' she thought, staring at the flickering lantern light on the ceiling. This is my life now.
Her chest constricted, but she forced herself to close her eyes. Maybe if she slept, tomorrow wouldn't feel so heavy. Maybe if she dreamed, she'd see her parents again.
As the room fell into silence and her breathing slowed, Liora drifted off. Her body curled up tight, as if she could protect herself from what was coming.
'Tomorrow would come, whether she was ready or not.'
As the first rays of dawn lit up the sky, the household buzzed through the preparations.
In thr room , Liora stiffly sat in a tall-backed chair, her clenched hands in her lap. She couldn't even recall the last time she'd felt this awkward or this exposed. Everywhere around her, beauticians and maids flitted about, carrying brushes, pots of rouge, and rolls of fine silk.
Mara stood in the corner, arms crossed and a scowl etched on her face. She muttered something under her breath, but old lady, Suren, who was assigned Liora's duty sharp glare silenced her instantly.
"Not a word from you," she glared at those nosy maids.
"Make her presentable. The queen dowager expects nothing less than perfection."
Liora swallowed hard, her throat dry. She didn't know how to handle the sudden attention. She'd spent most of her life blending into the background, wearing simple stitched clothes that her aunt discarded.
They moved swiftly, yet delicately, fingers sure as they wrapped her in layer upon layer of fine fabric. The dress was a soft lavender, the shimmering silk catching morning light.
"It's the queen dowager's choice," one of the younger maids whispered, smoothing the fabric over Liora's shoulders.
Another maid giggled softly and leaned closer. "She must think we can turn a duck into a swan."
Liora heard the comment but said nothing. Her heart sank, but she kept her face calm. She was used to whispers like that by now.
But when they finished draping the gown and stepped back, the room went quiet.
Liora blinked and looked around nervously. "What is it?" she asked, her voice soft.
The maids exchanged glances, their eyes widened.
The lavender dress, paired with delicate silver embroidery, brought out the warmth in her skin and made her dark hair shine. Her features, which had often been overlooked in her plain attire, now stood out in striking contrast.
Her face was heart-shaped, high cheekbones giving her an air of quiet grace. Large almond-shaped eyes shone like the soft gray of stormy skies, set in thick lashes. Full lips, naturally plump, had been tinted with a soft berry color, making them resemble the perfect petal.
"Beautiful," one of the maids breathed.
"Like a painting," another agreed.
Even Mara, against her will, let out a slight gasp. She promptly covered it with a snort, but the elder maid standing beside her nudged her sharply in the ribs. "Mind your tongue," she hissed.
The lady steward entered the room just then, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She stopped short when she saw Liora, her sharp features softening in surprise. "Oh my," she said, a rare smile tugging at her lips. "You clean up well, child."
Liora's cheeks flushed at the compliment. She wasn't used to kind words, and they left her feeling even more out of place. She lowered her gaze and managed a small smile. "Thank you," she said quietly.
The maids beamed at her answer, and the whispers previously shared among them were no longer. The lady steward nodded at her before turning on her heel to give the report to the queen dowager.
As the room quieted down to only final adjustments, Liora stared at her reflection in the polished mirror. She barely recognized the girl staring back. For a moment, she wondered if this was what her mother had imagined for her: a life filled with silks and jewels. Reality, however, quickly knocked that thought out of place.
She was sold to be his concubine...
h.