To end the war, I voluntarily offered myself in marriage to Draven Kael, the formidable leader of the Beast Tribe. My husband, a whirlwind of raw, untamed power, pinned me to the grasslands. For what felt like an eternity, he overwhelmed me, until I simply faded into unconsciousness. I truly believed Draven loved me. But later, it was *he* who led a hundred thousand beast warriors in the assault on my home. He grabbed my head, forcing me to watch as my family was torn apart and my kingdom fell. Draven smiled, but his eyes held no emotion: “Seraphina Thorne, did you truly believe your captivating beauty could sway nations, that you could actually capture my heart?” “How many of my people did you slaughter? You send *one* of you, *you*, and dare to think it would erase our blood debt!” Eventually, Draven unified the lands, and took a favored wife. I was held captive, without status or recognition. Every time I attempted suicide, he would exhume a corpse from the burial grounds and destroy it before my eyes. “You are not allowed to die without my command!” I stopped struggling. After all, only three days remained until the poison I’d consumed years ago, to save him, would finally claim my life.
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.
That’s why, later, he made me soak in cold water all night long. He wanted me to lose my ability to bear children entirely. He didn’t want me to give him a child. He found me disgusting. I wiped the medicinal liquid from the corner of my mouth. Before I could speak, a joyous report came from outside. “Chieftain! Lady Celeste has been examined by the imperial physician—she is with child!” Draven’s expression froze for a moment, then his voice became excited: “Are you serious? Celeste is pregnant?” My gaze remained blank, watching the elation of impending fatherhood bloom on his face. Perhaps the virus was gnawing at me again. My hand instinctively clutched my chest. It ached so fiercely there. I had originally hoped that when the poison took full effect, I would just quietly die. But Draven insisted I go serve Celeste at this very moment. He knew exactly how to inflict the most cruel torment. He wanted me to witness, with my own eyes, another woman bearing his children. While our child, ripped from my womb by his own hands, remained buried on the back hill—a solitary grave, not even worthy of a tombstone. Celeste smiled at me, a soft, gentle smile. “The Chieftain sent you to serve me. I can’t really make you do strenuous work, so please just clean this place thoroughly.” I picked up the broom, looking at the peach blossoms. Others glared at me openly, their voices harsh. “Leaving her in the desolate chambers to slowly die is already merciful. Our Lady is truly kind, even calling her ‘sister’.” “What golden child, born of privilege? She’s clearly worse than the lowest servant. The Chieftain abandoned her long ago. If I were her, I’d be too ashamed to live.” Red rashes slowly began to appear on my skin, an allergic reaction. I gasped for breath, and suddenly felt a warm liquid trickle from my nose. I reached up to touch it, and froze. “Ah!” Celeste saw my blood-covered face and was immediately overwhelmed with shock. Draven rushed in at the news. Without a word, he slapped me. The force of it sent me sprawling to the ground, scattering a flurry of peach petals. I began to cough. “Celeste cannot stand the smell of blood right now! Are you deliberately trying to harm her?!” His eyes were as cold as ice blades. “Just because your child died, you want revenge on others? Seraphina, have you forgotten the consequences of disobedience?” How could I forget? Enduring the itching on my skin and the pain in my lungs, I knelt on the ground, admitting my mistake. “It’s my fault, it’s my fault. Please, Chieftain, spare my life…” “My mother’s remains have already been destroyed by you, and my father’s and brother’s graves have been burned clean. Chieftain, I have nothing left.” Draven crouched down, lifting my chin. He smirked, “Who says you have nothing left?” “Isn’t there still one buried on the back hill?” I clutched his hand desperately, my eyes bloodshot. “Please, I beg you, Draven…” “Don’t do that. You can’t do that.” I couldn’t recall how long it had been since I had called him by his name. Draven’s eyes were downcast, turbulent emotions churning within them. I couldn’t decipher them, only sensing that he hesitated. I continued to kowtow, pleading. *Thump! Thump! Thump!* Until the ground was stained a vivid crimson, more brilliant than the peach blossoms. Blood flowed from my nose, I coughed up blood from my mouth, and even bloody tears streamed from my eyes… Draven finally realized that the amount of blood I had lost these past two days seemed… excessive. He frowned, asking those nearby, “Was she doing any heavy labor in this courtyard earlier that would cause this?” “Reporting, Chieftain. Lady Celeste, in her kindness, only had her do light cleaning tasks. Everyone can attest to it.” Draven immediately released me, letting out a series of cold laughs. “Seraphina, you’re having another one of your fits, aren’t you?” “You’ve had this strange illness for so many years now. Since you won’t die from it, you might as well suffer through it!” I watched him step over me, entering the palace without a backward glance. I let out a very soft breath. I curled into a ball, unmoving, until night fell, and peach blossoms covered me completely. Candlelight glowed within the palace, and Celeste’s delicate voice faintly reached my ears. “Oh, Chieftain, you mustn’t. I’m with child, you know.” “You’re awful… If the Chieftain desires me so much, you must promise to be gentle, okay?” Silhouettes danced on the paper screens. I watched their intimate night in silence. I suddenly remembered the night Draven and I were married. There was no formal ceremony, no rituals. He simply pinned me to the grasslands, under the open sky, fierce and wild. I had thought it was the custom of his tribe, and swallowed all my grievances. But at his later coronation as Emperor, I finally understood. He treated Celeste with such tenderness and respect. Dawn was breaking. This was my last day. Draven, I am dying. The one you hate will soon be utterly extinguished. Congratulations. The main door suddenly burst open. The man walked out, looking down at me. “I told you to serve Celeste. Is *this* how you slack off?”
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