Bella's POV
"Final warning—seal your lips the second you step outside. Everything that went down these past years stays buried. Don't even think your duke's blood will save you now!"
"Never had protection before, won't have it later either." My expression stayed blank, voice empty as I bobbed my head submissively, too broken to challenge the steward.
Using the wall as a crutch, I dragged myself from the camp's gates.
Once, my dancing had set Valeridge City ablaze with wonder. Now my shattered knees barely supported my frame. Without proper treatment, even my healing abilities meant nothing.
Beyond the camp's entrance, my name rang out. I jerked, lifting my gaze with reluctance.
Before me stood a magnificent stallion—a gift from royalty—carrying the Marquis of Blackwood, Lucius Thorne. The legendary warrior himself.
His posture commanded respect, powerful shoulders flowing into a trim waist, features carved like marble. That aristocratic bearing remained untouched.
This man had consumed my heart for endless years. I'd replayed this moment in dreams—him arriving to bring me home.
Tears welled as I tried to speak, but silence claimed my voice.
Because he was the one. He'd hurled me into this nightmare, commanding others to "break me properly."
The arctic coldness in his stare made my already fractured heart quake anew.
"I'll bring you back," Lucius declared from his mount, eyes like winter storms, tone cutting like steel. "But first—will you finally confess your crimes?
"Your poison in those pastries left Ivy with lifelong sickness. She needs medicine daily. Your years of suffering? She faces a lifetime of pain. You'll owe her forever!"
When I stayed mute, Lucius barked, "Speak up! Admit what you did!"
His sudden harshness made me flinch.
Instinctively, I squeezed my eyes shut, arms wrapping around my skull as I dropped low, screaming, "Yes! I confess! I was wrong! It won't happen again!"
But no whip fell. Then I remembered—he was the Marquis of Blackwood.
Someone of his rank wouldn't dirty his hands beating trash like me.
Still, I truly was wrong. Wrong to care. Wrong to love. Wrong to offer my soul to people who crushed it underfoot.
When they first dumped me here, hope still flickered.
I'd reasoned, My fiancé can't be this cruel. He's shielded me since our engagement—risking everything to keep me safe.
And my family at the duke's estate—they'll rescue me. I've been framed.
But I waited. And waited. What arrived instead was pure agony—relentless, day after day, from the soldiers.
I was nobility, not camp entertainment. They couldn't violate me, so they found other ways to shatter my spirit.
Sometimes thin whips designed for disciplining women—weapons that sliced deep, leaving my skin in ribbons. Other times, they'd strip me bare and dump me in snow drifts.
They wanted me to beg. To surrender. To trade my body for scraps or brief mercy.
But I never broke. So their cruelty grew more vicious, more humiliating each time.
Finally, I quit fighting—not from compliance, but because resistance required strength I no longer possessed.
"What's this act now, Bella?" Lucius's frown deepened, disgust thick in his voice.
The look on his face told me exactly what he was thinking—that years of discipline had only made me pathetic.
My once-radiant beauty had withered—now sickly and gaunt. My waist, previously soft and curved, had shrunk until it seemed ready to snap.
I knew he saw my reaction as playing the victim. He wouldn't be fooled. I was certain he believed that since he'd ordered his men to "treat me well," I couldn't have truly suffered.
Lucius dismounted, extending his hand. "Get in the carriage."
But I shrank back like a beaten creature, clutching my head, eyes vacant as I whispered, "Please... no... don't touch me..."
"Enough," he snapped. "Still acting pitiful?"
His tone grew arctic. "What—trying to guilt me?"
I slowly surfaced from the haze. My voice came out cracked, raw. I laughed bitterly, mockery aimed at myself.
Before Lucius—or my parents—I'd never been allowed to feel wronged.
If they'd ever felt genuine guilt, they wouldn't have waited until now.
Years back, my birth family finally reclaimed me. That's when the truth emerged—I'd been switched at birth.
The greedy pair who raised me had traded me away, leaving me to endure brutal years.
I'd believed returning to my real family meant love and belonging. Instead, I found ice.
My parents and brothers barely acknowledged me.
Whenever Ivy Fairfax—the girl who'd stolen my life—felt upset or ignored, they swarmed to console her like she was their true blood.
Slowly, I was erased.
They constantly lectured me: "You're the elder sister. Act mature. Show Ivy patience. Don't argue. Don't compete."
Desperate to belong, I obeyed. I yielded everything, always stepping aside for Ivy.
Years ago, I even baked pastries by hand, hoping to win favor.
But Ivy was poisoned—coughing blood.
My parents exploded. They claimed my years away had rotted my core. Said I wasn't fit to be their daughter.
Influenced by Ivy's whispers, they decided to exile me—banned from Valeridge City forever.
Even my once-loving brothers declared, "Ivy may have lived your life for many years, but she's pure. How could you use such vicious methods just for attention? We have no sister as heartless as you!"
No matter how I pleaded innocence, nobody listened. Not once.
The instant Ivy shed tears, I became the villain.
Finally, Lucius intervened to prevent my banishment.
But he didn't rescue me. He simply had me quietly dumped at the military camp—convinced that enough suffering would teach me my place.
Wind caught my matted hair, revealing my wasted, unrecognizable features.
Lucius scowled. "Stand up. We're returning to the estate."
I tried, but my legs collapsed, sending me tumbling again.
Lucius spun around, eyes flashing like steel blades. "If you'd prefer staying... then crawl back into that camp."