Kingdom of Averio had a man that was feared by all. They say even the king's voice trembled when Lord Caelum entered the hall. Caelum Vale, a duke who was never satisfied with anything he had, even with r blood on his hands. Once, he had been the empire's most feared warlord, a man whose presence could silence armies Until he fell in love with a woman and got married but when his wife died while bringing their daughter into the world, the man who had once conquered nations could no longer conquer his grief. His sword was sheathed. His heart, sealed. And though the people still whispered his name in fear, he was now swallowed by sorrow, grief, pain.
The Duke looked once at the newborn in his maid's arms and then turned away. From that day, he neglected the child completely, leaving her in the care of the maid. But the woman had no kindness in her. She saw the girl not as a daughter of a noble house but as a burden, a slave. As the years passed, the child grew without a mother's warmth or a father's gaze. she was born only to be unwanted so she tried hard to please the people around her but the more she tried the more their hatred grew. She wanted love... She wanted to be loved.
The birds chirp, tree's sway, it was a peaceful morning until a sharp shriek tore through the peaceful silence.
"You insolent brat! How dare you spill coffee on my dress!"
Years had passed, and the little girl had grown, though fear still clung to her like a shadow, she was abused through this years, who wouldn't be scared? The three-year-old now trembled before the maid, flinching as a hand struck her cheek. She could only whisper a small "sorry," afraid that crying would only make the woman more furious.
When moments like this happened, the little girl, Ayana, would sneak outside to cry.
Out there, where no one could see her, no one punished her for showing tears. But this time, she didn't expect to run into him, the man who had abandoned her.
Duke Caelum stood before her, his shadow swallowing the light. His cold gaze fell upon the trembling child, an annoyed expression crossing his face. What unsettled him even more was how much she resembled her mother, the very spitting image of the woman he'd lost.
"A rat?" he said coldly.
Ayana froze, she trembled as fear rooted her to the ground. She couldn't move, she was afraid that one step would grant her death. The Duke grew impatient. He grabbed the little girl by the back of her collar.
"Are you mute or deaf?" he asked, his voice edged with irritation, Every second added fuel to his irritation, Seeing this Ayana quickly answered.
"N… no, Papa!"
The word slipped out before Ayana could stop herself. She froze. She had only ever seen him in portraits, yet she knew, he was her father. She slowly looked up to see the Duke's reaction, The Duke stiffened at the word. For a brief, fleeting second, something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Then he set her down, not gently, and turned away without another word. Ayana stayed there, silent, her small hands clutching at her dress as his footsteps faded into the cold air. Was he angry? She thought to herself.
As soon as he was gone, Ayana's knees gave out. The floor pressed against her palms as she tried to stop the trembling. A tiny sob escaped before she could swallow it down.
"Papa…" she whispered the word again, this time like a secret she wasn't supposed to say. She wondered Why? Why did he abandon her?
Tears welled in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand. Crying only made things worse. Crying meant weakness. Crying meant the maid would find her again and beat her. So she bit her lip until it bled, forcing the tears back. Walking back alone in the empty corridor, she tried to pretend she hadn't felt anything at all but it was hard as she long for a parent's affection.
Unfortunately, fate was cruel. As she slipped back inside through the servant's hall, she ran straight into the maid.
The woman's eyes burned with fury. sh
"There you are, you useless child! Where have you been?"
Ayana froze, her small frame trembling under the woman's glare. She wanted to answer, to apologize, but the words stuck in her throat. The maid's hand tightened around the glass cup she was holding. Before Ayana could react, the woman throwed it at her. The sharp crash echoed through the corridor. the glass shattering, Pain seared across Ayana's forehead as the glass shattered, cutting deep.
She fell to her knees, blood trickling down the side of her face. For a moment, she couldn't even breathe. Then the tears came, hot, uncontrollable, endless.
All the pain she'd been holding in, all the fear, all the loneliness, everything spilled out at once.She didn't understand.
Why did everyone hate her?
Why was she so unwanted? So unloved?
Was she born just to be hurt?
Was the world meant to hate her?
Ayana pressed her tiny hands against her wound, her sobs echoing through the empty halls .
As the maid saw her cry, her fury only deepened."How dare you cry!"
she shouted, her voice sharp as the broken glass on the floor. "Do you think you are worthy?"
Ayana flinched when the woman's hand struck her again. The sting burned across her cheek, but she didn't make a sound this time. She only pressed her trembling lips together, trying to hold the sobs back. She didn't want to cry anymore. She didn't want to make it worse. The sting of her words hurt worse than the slap that followed. Ayana's head snapped to the side, her cheek burning. The shattered glass on the floor gleamed beside her like cruel stars.
"I'm… I'm sorry…" Ayana's voice cracked as she spoke, her small hands trembling as she tried to pick up the broken pieces. Her fingers bled when she touched the glasse, but she didn't stop.
"Clean it up!" the maid hissed. "You're nothing but trouble, Someone like you is just a monster! A monster who killed her Mother"
The words sank deep into Ayana's heart. Monster. She didn't even remember her mother's face, only the stories the servants whispered when they thought she wasn't listening. Some said her mother was beautiful, kind, a woman who had made even the cold Duke smile. Others said she had bewitched him, that her death was divine punishment.
Ayana didn't know which was true. She only knew that no one spoke her mother's name kindly in her Manor. As she gathered the shards, her vision blurred. Blood and tears mixed on her hands, but she kept moving. She'd learned that crying never helped. Crying only made the pain worse. When she finished, she was shaking so hard she could barely stand. The maid watched her for a long, silent moment before sneering and walking away, her heels clicking against the marble floor. The echo of her footsteps faded, leaving Ayana alone.
She pressed her small hands to her chest. It hurt, not from the slap, but from something deeper. Something she didn't understand.Why am I here? she thought. Why doesno one want me?
The grand halls of the mansion stretched around her, filled with golden light and cold silence. The portraits of past lords hung on the walls, their eyes painted to follow her wherever she went. One of them was her father. He looked regal, proud, and untouchable. The sight of him made her chest ache even more. She sank to her knees again, tucking herself into a corner. Her hair clung to her cheeks, damp with tears.
Outside the window, the world went on, sunlight falling across blooming gardens, servants bustling about. Laughter drifted faintly from somewhere far away, from people who lived without fear.
But here, in the cold heart of the manor, Ayana sat alone.
She pressed her forehead against her knees and tried to remember the feeling of warmth. Maybe, somewhere deep inside her, she believed it still existed. Her small voice broke the silence, so soft that only the walls could hear."Am I really… so hard to love?"
The question hung in the air unanswered. She waited for someone, anyone to come. But no one did. Night came sooner than she expected. The servants lit the lamps in the halls, their golden glow spilling faintly into the dark corner where she sat. She hadn't moved.
Her hands still stung from the cuts, and her cheek still burned from the slap.
When the last light flickered out, she whispered into the dark,"Maybe tomorrow will be better."
But even as she said it, her voice trembled, because deep down, she didn't believe it. She curled up on the cold floor, hugging her knees to her chest. The stone beneath her was hard and unkind, stealing what little warmth she had left.
As her eyes grew heavy, Ayana looked toward the maids' quarters down the hall. Through the cracks in the door, she could see the faint glow of their candles, could hear their faint laughter before sleep. They have beds, she thought weakly. Soft ones.
She closed her eyes. She wished, just once, that she could have one too. But it was a hopeless dream.