Harmonia Calendar 715, Thal 24 - Ashspire Estate, Elandor
Late Afternoon - Pillar
The stone was cool at my back, a steady anchor as I leaned against the pillar. A cup rested in my hand, the wine swirling slowly.
Around me, young nobles buzzed like flies, their laughter too eager, their words too polished.
I gave them what they wanted, a polite half-smile, a nod at the right moment. Enough to keep them circling. But my eyes weren't on them.
They were on the floor.
Adonis.
He moved stiffly at first, his steps uncertain. Yet she steadied him. Selene's hand rested on his arm, her smile softening each awkward step until it almost looked graceful.
My chest tightened. The wine turned sour in my mouth.
'Control it. Smile.'
I forced myself. My lips curved again, the practiced smile sliding back into place. The mask was back.
But my gaze kept drifting upward to the high table.
Father sat there beneath the banner. His red eyes found mine across the hall. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then he gave the slightest nod.
My hand loosened around the cup. I set it aside on a tray as a servant passed.
And then left. My steps carried me toward the doors. Not hurried. Not slow.
Each footfall deliberate, measured.
'I will show you your place.'
***
Late Afternoon - Service Room
The service room was dim, lightstones burned weakly, and it smelled of old tea and damp cloth. Empty benches filled the room. I stood pressed to the wall, my back felt cold against the stone.
Favian blocked the way out. Shoulders relaxed, lips curved, his red eyes never leaving me.
His voice came smooth as silk.
"You remember. We practiced."
My lips parted, but the words kept stuck in my throat. I knew the name now. The one he wanted me to say.
'Adonis.'
The boy who had smiled at me when others never looked. The boy who said my name when no one else bothered. He treated me like a person, not a servant. My first love. My prince in the story I had spun for myself, where I was the damsel.
My voice came out dry, like a whisper.
"I can't…not him."
Favian's smile didn't falter, but his eyes twitched. He stepped closer, his shadow loomed over me.
"Too late to change the play. You will help your family. He will answer for his sins. Everyone gets what they need."
'Family.'
The word struck. Father's illness. My brother's stomach growling through the night. The debt that chained us.
I stammered, my voice trembled.
"I'll pay...We'll pay the debt."
The curve of his lips shifted. Still a smile, but no warmth in it. His patience snapped.
Smack.
My cheek burned, the taste of iron flooding my mouth.
Smack.
The second blow pushed me back, my body slammed against the wall before I slid down to the floor.
Favian bent, his hand held down my shoulder, pinning me. His other hand tore my dress.
Panic rose sharply. I tried to push, but his grip was too strong.
His hand halted, his voice came gentle.
"You need to look like a victim."
Smack.
Another slap snapped my head to the side, and tears flowed.
He leaned down, voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me.
"Say it. You were alone in the corridor. He pulled you. He said you belong to him now."
My lips trembled, opening and closing before sound finally came through.
"I…I can't."
His hands found my neck, fingers tightening until white blurred my vision. His words sank deeper, forced into me until I could hear them even when his lips stopped moving.
His hands left my throat. I gasped for breath, eyes unfocused. His words came cruelly steady as he straightened.
"Remember your family. Remember the debt."
His red eyes studied me one last time, head tilted, breath steadying.
"Not enough… a bit more."
His palm covered my mouth before I could shout.
Blows followed. My ribs. My stomach. My legs. Pain rippled through me, breaking into sobs, I tried to hold back.
Then his hand stilled for a moment.
He looked at me the way men look at food. Lust. His hand went higher and tore my dress a little farther.
His gaze was fixed on my bosom. I tried to cover myself with my arm, but his kick stopped me.
I folded, breath snapping out of me.
His hand reached for my breasts.
I panicked, twisting with the last bits of strength in me.
Then—
His hand halted.
He took a step back. His breath steadied.
He looked down at me again. The hunger in his eyes vanished, replaced with something else. Disgust.
Smack.
Another kick folded me, hard against my ribs. I curled, gasping, and tears came. I hated that they helped his story.
He straightened, brushing his hands against his tunic as though dusting them clean. His voice softened again, back to that practiced kindness.
"You are ready."
I clutched my torn dress to my chest. My gaze locked on him.
He extended a hand, polite, like a gentleman offering me through a door.
I didn't move.
I couldn't move. The strength in my legs left me. I just watched his hand.
He didn't wait longer, fingers seized my elbow instead, lifting me to my feet. His grip was firm, inescapable.
He murmured as he pulled me forward.
"It's time."
I stumbled beside him, one arm clutched across my chest, lips pressed shut, the lines sat like stones in my throat. And I let him pull me.
'Princess stories are for girls who do not hunger.'
***
Late Afternoon - Grand Hall
The great doors swung open, the sound booming across stone.
THUD.
Conversations died. The music faltered, then stilled. Heads turned toward the door.
Favian stepped into the hall, guards flanking him from the sides. In the front walked a girl.
Her maid uniform hung torn, fabric ripped at the shoulder and hem. Bruises bloomed, red and purple against white skin. One arm crossed tight over her chest, trembling fingers clutching the cloth.
The hall froze. No one dared to speak, but every eye was on her.
Favian moved close behind her, a steadying presence to anyone who watched. His hand rested on her shoulder, firm, guiding her steps forward.
When he spoke, his voice was pitched just right to carry across the hall, but soft enough to feign care.
"It is all right. You are safe here. Tell them the truth. I will stand behind you."
He bent closer, lips near her ear. The smile that touched his face never reached his eyes. His whisper cut sharply.
"You know what happens if you don't."
Her body stiffened. A shiver ran down her arm beneath his grip.
They reached the center of the floor.
Sarah raised her head, eyes flicking across the hall. For a heartbeat, her gaze caught Adonis. Her lips trembled, hesitation breaking through.
Favian's fingers pressed harder into her shoulder.
She flinched, then forced the words out, her voice small but clear enough to carry through the silence.
"It was Lord Adonis. He...forced me."
The silence that followed was absolute.
***
Late Afternoon - Grand Hall
Rowena's hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide, breath caught in her throat. Her gaze snapped to Anton. He did not move, and that was worse than any denial.
Theodora stepped forward. Two guards were already there and caught her arms before she reached him. She twisted, kicked, and her voice tried to break through the palm that covered her mouth. They dragged her back, out of sight, behind a column.
Lucien moved at once, striking one guard with his shoulder, but another stepped in, and a third followed. They pulled him back and held him firm.
Selene's eyes fixed on the boy in blue. He did not look like a monster. That made it worse. She remembered his hand at her waist, the awkward sincerity in his bow. Her mouth thinned to a hard line.
Evan did not speak. His silence was deliberate. He watched, measuring Anton by how he carried himself in the storm.
Anton remained still at the high table. His eyes were cold.
***
Late Afternoon - Grand Hall
The silence weighed on me heavier than chains. A hundred eyes pressed against my skin, nobles leaning forward, servants stiff with fear. My heart raced.
I forced air into my lungs and let my voice break the stillness.
"This is a lie. I did nothing."
Favian was already moving. He stepped in front of Sarah, his posture sharp, his bow angled perfectly toward the high table.
His head lifted, false pity shone in his eyes
"Father, forgive the intrusion. But... A true heir protects the weak."
The phrase rang like something rehearsed.
Then his gaze turned, falling on me. His lips curved with sorrow, and his hand rose to his chest in a gesture of false pain.
"It breaks my heart, brother. But I could not overlook such cruelty."
I couldn't breathe. Panic surged, and the headache came back, pounding until the world blurred. My knees wavered under me. A guard's hand clamped down on my arm, holding me in place.
My head snapped toward the high table, desperation tearing through me. My voice shook as the words rushed out.
"No...Father. Let me speak!"
Anton didn't blink. His hand pressed flat on the table. His voice came sharp.
"Enough. You will speak before the court."
The words shook me. My eyes burned as I turned, desperate, toward Sarah.
"Sarah! Please tell them—"
The guard's fist cut my plea short.
Crack.
Pain carried across my jaw. Blood filled my mouth as I dropped to one knee, and spit painted the marble red.
When I lifted my head, Sarah had already collapsed. Her arms held tight across her chest, and her sobs broke through, raw and jagged.
Her gaze found mine for a heartbeat. Amber eyes filled with tears, with hurt and something deeper, sadness that cut sharper than her words.
Then she crumbled completely, and the sound of her sobs filled the hall.
Anton's cold voice cut through her misery.
"Take him."
Hands seized me, iron grips on both arms. They pulled me upright.
The great doors opened ahead.
I was dragged out, boots scraping against polished marble.
***
Late Afternoon - Side Aisle
THUD.
The great doors slammed behind Adonis, and with it, the grip on my arms loosened. The guards stepped back as though nothing had happened.
Theodora came fast, skirt brushing the marble as she rushed forward. She seized my sleeve, her voice breaking with panic.
"What is happening!? What did they do? Where is Adonis!?"
I couldn't answer her. My eyes shifted first to Mother. She stood frozen, pale, her lips trembling as she shook her head once.
'No…Mother would never let something so cruel happen.'
My gaze changed to Father. He set his cup down with practiced calm, his voice carrying smoothly as he turned back to the nobles.
As if nothing had happened.
The hall followed his lead. Slowly, the room began to breathe again. Music rose from the pillars. Conversations restarted, quiet at first, then louder. Laughter, shallow and forced, spilled back into the air.
I pulled free from Theodora's grip, my voice firm.
"I'm going."
Her fingers caught my arm again, desperate.
"Where?"
I met her eyes, red with tears, her voice broke as she whispered.
"Bring him back."
I set my hand gently over hers, pressing once before sliding my arm free.
"I'll try."