Chapter 3

...POV: Vanessa...

“You're a fool!” her mother spat the moment the doors closed, with the servants already too far to hear. Her voice—usually cold and composed—spilled out like hot venom: corrosive, elegant, but—much to Vanessa’s surprise—choked.

Lady Agrece’s eyes, wide and sharp, gleamed with something beyond fury. It was fear. Desperation. The horror of watching a world meticulously built begin to crumble at her feet.

Vanessa didn’t flinch.

Not this time.

Usually, she would swallow every word, every insult, just to preserve the family’s sick illusion of peace. But now she had only eight hours of freedom left. Eight hours before she was transformed, offered, condemned. What did her mother’s wrath matter anymore?

“Ana is a fool,” she said, her voice cold as ice. “I will do my best to be a worthy duchess. But if I hadn’t stepped forward, we’d all be dead.”

Lady Agrece recoiled half a step, as if the words had struck her. Her lips trembled, but remained tight.

“You think I don’t know that?” she whispered. “You think I didn’t see... the fear in Duke Eckart’s eyes? The coldness in the guards? We’re being surrounded, Vanessa. This alliance was our only shield.”

She ran a hand through her perfectly pinned hair—a crack in her control, barely disguised. For a moment, her mask fell—and Vanessa saw her mother not as the iron-fisted ruler of their home, but as a desperate woman. A mother on the brink.

“I tried. God knows I tried to protect you both. I did what I could. But you’re both so stubborn... so blind.” Her voice wavered. “Do you think I wouldn’t give my life to stop this? I would, if it were enough.”

Vanessa’s father, Lord Agrece, who until then had been a silent shadow at his wife’s side, finally lifted his eyes—tired eyes. There was more than coldness in them. There was sorrow. And a guilt that aged his already weathered face.

He hesitated before speaking. And when he did, it wasn’t with the authority of a nobleman, but with the vulnerability of a broken father.

“Whether you live or not... we are ruined,” he whispered. “Your sister betrayed us. And you… you are our sacrifice.”

But there was hesitation. A tremor in his voice Vanessa had never heard before.

“The alliance is lost. We’ll have to return all the betrothal funds. And you know how much we needed them. But...” —he drew a breath, his gaze darkening— “but even so, you shouldn’t have offered yourself. Not like this. You’re our daughter, Vanessa. You’re my daughter.”

It was that phrase, late and heavy with regret, that broke something in her. The confession she’d always longed for—too late, too cold.

Vanessa tasted the bitter ache of familiar disappointment—a flavor she’d known since childhood—but she didn’t bend.

“Blame Ana. She ran. I stayed. At least now you’ll have someone to hate... until the end.”

She turned without looking back, denying them the last glimpse of the obedient daughter. That girl had died the moment she accepted the chalice.

⋯ ❈♛❈ ⋯

Night fell with the cruel softness of a mourning veil. Snow drifted gently, silently, dressing the world in white—a pure shroud over the wreckage of a soul at war. The cold pierced through the fabric of her gown, into her skin, her bones... but she deserved it.

She walked the castle halls with steady steps, ignoring the whispering glances of the maids, the subtle gasps from the guards. It was as if time itself slowed around her.

She reached the maze.

That sanctuary of dark stone and damp moss was the only place that still felt like hers. The walls pulsed under the torchlight, as if the garden itself breathed—slow, ancient, aware of what was about to happen.

She stopped at the engraved plaque, running her fingers over the carved words:

“The only way to find yourself is to get lost.”

“The only way to find yourself is to get lost,” she murmured, like a silent vow, like a farewell spell.

And then she heard it.

“Lady Vanessa?”

The voice struck her like a velvet-wrapped blade.

She turned.

Naveen.

The crown prince was always a vision: hair dark as wet ink, the severe face of a man who carried kingdoms on his back. But tonight, his eyes held something different. Something darker. Eternal.

“Crown Prince,” she said, gathering herself with a faint, polished smile—fragile, trembling. “What a surprise... I didn’t expect to speak with you tonight.”

She stepped closer, offering her hand with the grace of a woman trained to die with dignity.

“I’m sorry for the scandal. I hope you can forgive us.”

He merely brushed her cheek with his lips—cold, ceremonial. Soulless.

Vanessa’s stomach dropped.

“It’s a shame it came to this,” he said, his tone carefully rushed.

She lifted her chin.

“It’s not over yet. Maybe I’ll come to love him. Maybe I’ll defy the god of light. Or maybe I won’t. But no one seems to believe I’m capable.”

He stared at her. And for a fleeting moment... there was something in his eyes. Not pity. Not compassion. Something darker. More dangerous.

“About the wedding...” she began, hesitant. The request burned on her tongue. Improper. Nearly indecent. But... what did she have to lose?

“I wanted to ask something. A favor. A last wish.”

He said nothing—just waited.

“I’m a few hours away from losing my freedom. And... I didn’t want to go without choosing who would take my virginity.”

She looked away, ashamed.

“I wondered if I might choose you, Your Highness. Just one night. So I could know... before it all begins.”

The silence that followed felt like an open grave.

And then he stepped back. Just one step.

But it felt like an abyss opening.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said. His voice was calm. Too calm. Cold as stone.

She blinked, stunned. Humiliation rose like poison in her throat.

“What?” she whispered. “You... don’t want to? But... you said you liked me. Not even one touch before it ends?”

She took a step forward, unthinking. Her eyes pleaded. But he remained still. Unreachable.

“It’s a political marriage, Lady Vanessa. You must remain pure,” he declared. The words rang like a sentence.

“I’m sorry. Good luck tomorrow.”

Then he bowed. Kissed her cheek with slow cruelty. And walked away.

The snow was already gathering on his shoulders, as if the world itself was freezing everything that might have been.

Vanessa stood there. Alone.

Breath ragged.

Heart pounding like a wounded animal.

No one will ever know the woman behind the duchess.

And everything she was... would die at dawn.

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