I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the peeling paint on the ceiling until my eyes burned. The silence of the house was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic sound of my own tears hitting my joined hands. The deadline had arrived like a silent executioner. Tomorrow night, the officer with the rotting teeth and the greedy eyes would return to our door. We would no longer have a roof to shelter my father's final hours, and I would be left with a choice that felt more like a death sentence.
"Can I come in?" a soft voice asked from the shadows of the hallway.
It was Arthur. He stood in the doorway, his familiar silhouette a small comfort in the middle of my chaos. He looked exhausted, the lines around his eyes deeper than I had ever seen them. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand and signaled for him to sit beside me. He moved across the room and took my hand in his. His skin was warm and smelled of yeast and honest work, a scent that had always meant safety to me.
"I hate seeing you like this, Lydia," he said, using his thumb to catch a stray tear before it could fall.
"Arthur, I don't know what to do anymore. The Archduchess refused us. I am at the end of my rope."
He placed a calloused finger on my lips to silence me. "I would do anything for you. You know that. I love you more than my own life, more than my own future."
He reached into his canvas bag and pulled out several heavy leather pouches. They landed on the mattress with a metallic thud that made my heart jump into my throat. The weight of them was undeniable.
"Arthur, where did you get this?" I whispered, afraid to touch them.
"These are my savings," he answered, his voice quiet and steady. "Ten years of work. Every copper I earned since I was a boy. It was the money to open my own bakery. The dream my mother and I shared for a lifetime."
My vision blurred again, but this time it was not from despair. It was from the sheer weight of his sacrifice. "I cannot take this, Arthur. It is your whole life. It is your freedom."
He stood up and took my face in his hands, forcing me to look into his brown eyes. They were so deep and honest, devoid of the cruelty I saw in the Duke.
"Take it. You are my future wife. It is my duty to carry your burdens. If I have to start over from nothing to keep you safe, then that is what I will do."
"But your dream..."
"Nothing matters except you," he whispered, pulling me into his chest. "We will rebuild everything, together. We will find a new dream."
"Arthur... thank you," I breathed, throwing my arms around his neck.
For the first time in weeks, I slept. The crushing weight was gone, replaced by the warmth of his love. I felt protected, tucked away from the world in the safety of his sacrifice. I fell into a dreamless sleep, believing the nightmare had finally ended.
The next morning, the nightmare didn't just return. It exploded.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
"Open the door in the name of the law!" a voice thundered, making the very walls of the mill shake.
The old wood groaned under the force of the blows. I bolted out of bed, the blood draining from my face so fast I felt faint. I ran to the main room, Leo right behind me, his eyes wide and dazed from sleep. I pulled the latch, and the door was kicked inward before I could even clear the way.
On our doorstep stood a wall of dark uniforms. Dozens of officers, their faces like carved stone, blocked the light of the sun.
"What is happening? Why are you here?" I stammered, my throat going dry.
"We have an arrest warrant for Thomas and Leo Carlisle. Are they within?" the lead officer barked.
"What?" my brother and I cried at the same time. Leo stepped back, his hands shaking.
"Last night, one of the ducal jewelry shops in the capital was robbed," the officer announced, his voice carrying down the street for all the neighbors to hear. "The evidence led the hounds straight to this mill."
My heart felt like it was going to burst through my skin. "That is impossible! My father is a dying man! He cannot even stand on his own two feet, let alone travel to the capital and rob a shop!"
"Move aside, girl. We have a warrant signed by the High Justice."
They swarmed the house like locusts. They showed no respect for our poverty. They threw our chairs against the walls, smashed our few ceramic plates, and tore through our meager belongings. I watched in horror as they dragged my father from his sickbed. They forced him upright despite his blue lips and his gasping, desperate breaths. They grabbed Leo, pinning his thin arms behind his back with a cruel force that made my brother scream in pain.
"I found it! The gold and the jewels are here!" a man shouted from my bedroom.
He walked out holding several bags. My breath caught. I recognized the leather pouches Arthur had given me, but they were now mixed with other, richer bags overflowing with sparkling stones and heavy gold coins. Bags I had never seen before.
Where had they come from? How had they gotten into my room?
My father and brother begged for mercy, pleading their innocence, but their voices were drowned out by the heavy thud of boots and the clinking of iron shackles.
"He is sick! You are killing him!" I screamed as they hauled my father toward the heavy carriages waiting outside in the mud.
They did not listen. They didn't even look at me. And then I saw the third vehicle. Arthur was already there, his hands bound tightly behind his back, his face bruised.
"It will be okay, Lydia!" my father cried out, his voice a dying rattle before the carriage door slammed shut, swallowing him whole.
Arthur looked at me, his eyes filled with a terror he couldn't hide. He tried to nod, tried to be the man he promised he would be, but the light in his eyes was dying. I collapsed into the dust of the road, my legs giving out as the neighbors gathered in a circle to watch our final ruin.
That was when Arthur's mother stepped out from the crowd. Her face was a mask of pure agony. Before I could speak a word of comfort or explanation, she swung her hand. The force of the slap split my lip. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth instantly, warm and salty.
"This is your fault!" she screamed, her voice echoing down the street like a curse. "My son is an honest man! He is not a thief! You brought this devilry on him with your red hair and your desperate needs!"
"Please... I didn't know..." I managed to say through the salt of my tears.
She grabbed a handful of my hair, shaking my head so hard my vision swam and the world turned into a blur of grey and brown. "Do not speak to me! You are a curse on this village, just like your mother was before you! Beauty like yours brings nothing but ruin to everyone it touches!"
She shoved me away with all her might, leaving me face-down in the dirt. I stayed there, my knees bleeding and my mouth throbbing, watching the carriages drive away toward the city dungeons. They were taking everything. They were taking my father's last breaths, my brother's innocence, and the only man who had ever truly loved me.
I was alone. The wind picked up, swirling the dust around me. And I knew, with a sickening, cold certainty that settled into my marrow, who had pulled the strings of this play.
Alaric.
He hadn't just watched me beg at his aunt's house. He had been preparing the cage. He had waited until I felt a glimmer of hope just so he could crush it with his own hands. He had framed my family to ensure I had nowhere else to turn.
I looked up at the palace on the hill, gleaming in the morning sun. It looked like a tomb. And I realized that if I wanted to save the people I loved, I would have to walk straight into it.