"They'll suffer. I will do everything in my power to make them pay for what they have done."
He looked up, confusion in his eyes as he stared at me, "What?"
"They will be mere pawns on my chessboard to be used and discarded. To be broken as they are tossed to the side after their purpose is served."
He snickered, staring at me with narrowed eyes, "It's almost as if you live for vengeance."
I stare back, my eyes devoid of any emotion, "I do. They deserve to pay for what they have done."
-------------------------------------------------
I stare at the ground, tears in my eyes. How could they do this to me? I thought they were my family, at least Davis will come... right? He will come and save me, now that Michael is gone, he has to. He's my brother. I freeze at a soft, sing-song voice echoing down the hallway.
"Dear sister! Oh, how lovely it is to see you again!"
It was Carina. She is the one who left me here injured.
"Carina. Why are you here?" I ask softly, my voice shaking as I speak, tears filling yet again in my eyes. Each word felt like sandpaper against my throat.
"Oh dear sister, don't speak that that! I have come to tell you something very important!"
I look up at her, only to see a fake smile plastered on her oh so perfect face. She is dressed in a gown. My gown. The one mother left for me, the golden roses sewn into the fabric, glimmered in the dim light of my cage, the prison I had been left to suffer in.
"My dear brother, Davis, has decided that you should be sent to your death, dear sister!"
The dim light filtering through the barred window of my chamber cast long shadows across my face as my eyes widened. Each breath pained my ribs, still tender from Carina's latest violent visit to my room.
I turned my head to view her. Carina had always possessed an air of otherworldly grace, the kind that made the delicate lace of her gown billow and sway like a cursed enchantress. Today, however, it was the playful smirk on her lips that sent a shiver down my spine.
I couldn't find the strength to answer. The triangle of hope wedged in the recesses of my heart felt fragile, ready to shatter with every breath Carina took. In my heart, I wrestled with the devastation and envy that clawed at my soul, but I knew better than to show any weakness.
"Have you forgotten how to speak? Or are you simply too engrossed in the art of self-pity?" Carina leaned closer as she stepped into my chambers, her voice dropping to a mockingly quiet whisper. "You know, it must be a burden being the unwanted daughter of our late mother. Your poor father has remarried, and yet here you are, still clinging to the idea that you deserve to be a duchess. How tragic, truly."
I felt my heart sink deeper into despair with each word that escaped her lips. The accusation stung, raw and unfiltered, as if she were tearing open old wounds. I had watched from the shadows as our father married a woman who barely knew me, a woman who brought warmth and laughter to a home that had been a silent sanctuary of grief for so long. Yet, here I was, still dreaming of the days when I might wear the crown, only to find myself lost in a cage, abandoned and forsaken.
"What do you want from me, Carina?" I managed to whisper, my voice barely rising above the despair that enveloped me. My eyes searched hers for any sign of the sister I once adored, but all I found was a hollow depth, a sadistic joy in my suffering. "Why do you revel in my misery?" I was grasping for answers, drowning in a tide of confusion and disbelief.
She laughed, a sound that echoed cruelly against the cold stone walls of my prison. "Oh, dear sister, it's not my misery I seek, but the thrill of watching your faint glimmers of hope extinguish. You've always been so naïve, clinging to dreams as if they could save you. Reality is much harsher, and I'm here to let you see it in its true light." There was a twisted satisfaction in her words, each one piercing through my defenses, leaving me vulnerable, exposed.
In that moment, I realized that the sister I loved was not standing before me. This was a warped reflection, a cruel echo of the girl who had once shared secrets and laughter with me. As the realization sunk in, I felt the warmth of my tears spilling down my cheeks, each drop a testament to the love I had lost. I was grieving not just the bond we once had, but the very childhood dreams that had been shattered by betrayal.
"Carina, I don't want to fight with you," I pleaded, my voice trembling. "This isn't who you are. You don't have to do this." I wanted desperately to reach out, to bridge the gap that had torn us apart, but the distance between us felt insurmountable. She simply smiled—a smile that felt as cold as the stone beneath me—and stepped back, leaving me enveloped in my sadness. Alone again, I sank to the floor, letting the weight of my reality crush me, praying against all odds that perhaps, just perhaps, Davis would come and take me away from this nightmare.
Carina's eyes flared with fury, the mockery in her laughter echoing against the stone like a cruel melody. "What a pitiful little creature you are, clinging to the belief that you can rise from the ashes," she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. "You've always been the foolish dreamer, haven't you? The girl who thought she could play princess while the rest of us live in the real world. It's pathetic!" As she stepped back, her disdain felt like a whip cutting through the air, fueling the fire igniting inside me.
"Pathetic?" I shot back, refusing to back down despite the venom in her tone. "You think wearing a beautiful gown and playing the role of the 'perfect daughter' makes you superior? Look at yourself, Carina! You're the one who's truly lost, hiding behind sarcasm and cruelty because deep down, you're terrified. You're scared of what you've become." My words hung in the air, bold and defiant, hoping to pierce through the carefully constructed walls of her identity.
A sly smile crept across her face, masking the anxiety that flared within her. "Oh, but darling, this is who I was always meant to be! You'll never understand the power in having a sharp tongue and bitter wit, not like me." She gestured around the room, her laughter resounding. "Just look where you are—shackled in a cage while I roam free in brilliance! You've always been the forgotten daughter, always destined to be a nobody in the shadow of my magnificence. The failure you are writ large." Her final words struck like daggers, but rather than shattering me, they infused my resolve with new strength.
"Call me what you want, Carina," I replied, my voice steady despite the tremors of fury coursing through me. "You can label me as broken or lost, but that doesn't define me. I know there's still a spark left in you, buried beneath all your layers of cruelty. You may choose to hide behind your mockery and hate, but it's only masking the fear of being overshadowed." I locked my eyes onto hers, seeking some flicker of recognition, willing her to see the truth that lay buried underneath her callousness.
"Fear?" She scoffed, fury mingling with incredulity. "You think you're some sort of philosopher now, don't you? The tragic, forsaken princess with a speech ready to inspire others? Don't make me laugh! You're just a pitiful little girl pretending to be someone worthy of love." Yet her voice wavered slightly, a telltale sign of uncertainty that I clung to like a lifeline. There was still something reminiscent of the sister I once knew beneath the coldness; if only I could reach her, if only I could break through the armor she had built. Perhaps deep down, she was as desperate for connection as I was.
Carina strode confidently toward me, her presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The atmosphere shifted as her eyes, fierce and unyielding, locked onto mine. She reached out and gripped my face roughly, her fingers pressing against my skin with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. I could feel the weight of her gaze, filled with a mixture of determination and something darker. It was clear that she had a purpose, and I was both intrigued and terrified by what it might be.
As she released her grip slightly, Carina turned her head to call back to the guards standing at the entrance. Her voice rang out, sharp and authoritative, demanding their immediate attention. "Bring me the poison," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for disobedience. The guards exchanged glances, momentarily taken aback by the fervor in her request, but quickly sprang into action. I could hear their footsteps echoing off the stone walls as they rushed to comply, and the tension in the room rose palpably. It was a chilling reminder of the power she wielded and the lengths she was willing to go to achieve her goals.
As we stood in silence, my mind raced with questions about her intentions. What did she plan to do with the poison? I was well aware of her reputation for being ruthless, but this was a new level of dread. The moment stretched, feeling both like an eternity and a fleeting instant. I could see the determination in her eyes, reflecting a relentless pursuit of her objectives. Whatever her plan was, it was clear that I had unwittingly become a part of it, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my fate was now intertwined with hers in ways I could not yet comprehend.
The guards returned swiftly, bearing a small vial filled with a viscous, violet liquid. Its shimmer was unnatural, as though it pulsed with something alive. Carina plucked it from their hands with grace that belied the weight of her intentions. She held it up, the flickering torchlight dancing against the glass. "This," she said softly, almost reverently, "is your redemption. Or your release. I haven't decided yet."
I stared at the vial, horror twisting in my stomach. "You wouldn't," I whispered, but even I didn't believe the protest. Carina had gone far beyond reason. Her madness wasn't loud—it was quiet, meticulous, like frost creeping over a windowpane. She crouched to meet me eye-to-eye, her face mere inches from mine, her breath warm and sweet with malice.
"I would," she replied. "And I will. Unless, of course, you give me what I want." Her gaze darkened, and something new flickered there—desperation? "Tell me where the letter is. The one Michael left. I know you have it." My heart froze. The letter. The last thing Michael had entrusted to me. The one that could unravel everything Father had built with his new wife… and everything Carina was clawing toward.
I clenched my jaw. "I burned it." A lie, but it rolled off my tongue with practiced ease. Her eyes narrowed. "Liar," she hissed. "You never had the nerve." She stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged beast, the hem of my golden gown whispering against the cold stone. "Do you think I'd let you rot away in here for nothing? Do you think I don't know Michael's secrets? He trusted you because he pitied you. You're nothing more than a broken doll he couldn't bring himself to discard."
Her words hit hard, but I let them pass over me like a storm wind. I knew the truth. Michael had believed in me, not out of pity, but because he knew I had strength Carina would never understand. He had left that letter not just for me to guard, but for me to use. And now I had to act.
"I'll make you a deal," I said, rising slowly despite the pain lancing through my side. My voice, cracked and raw, held just enough steel to make her pause. "You want the letter? Let me walk free. No more games. No more cages." I took a breath. "And I'll tell you where it is."
Carina raised an eyebrow. "You expect me to trust you?" she asked, scoffing. "After all this?"
"No," I said, holding her gaze. "But I expect you to be smart. If you kill me, you never find it. And you know Davis wouldn't forgive you if you crossed that line." It was a bluff, but a calculated one. Whatever Carina had become, she still sought their brother's approval, even if she pretended otherwise.
For a long moment, she said nothing. The vial trembled in her hand as her grip tightened. Then she turned to the guards. "Leave us." They obeyed without question, closing the heavy door behind them. She turned back to me, her expression unreadable.
"You have until midnight," she said coldly. "Then I stop asking nicely."
Midnight
The moonlight filtered through the narrow window, casting long shadows across the cold stone floor. The silence of the night was oppressive, broken only by the distant echoes of footsteps in the corridors. I sat on the edge of the cot, my mind racing, heart pounding in my chest. The hours had stretched endlessly since Carina's last visit, each minute a cruel reminder of my captivity.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Carina stepped into the dimly lit room. Her presence filled the space, her gown shimmering faintly in the low light. She held a silver tray in her hands, a single goblet resting upon it.
"Time's up, dear sister," she said, her voice smooth and cold. "I trust you've had ample time to reconsider."
I met her gaze, my resolve hardening. "I told you, Carina. I won't give it to you."
A flicker of something—anger, perhaps—passed across her face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that ever-present, unsettling smile.
"Such a pity," she murmured, setting the tray down on the small table beside me. "But I suppose you leave me no choice."
She lifted the goblet, swirling the contents with a practiced hand. The liquid inside was dark, almost black, and it shimmered with an unnatural gleam.
"Drink," she commanded, her eyes never leaving mine.
I recoiled, instinctively pulling away. "What is that?"
"Just a little something to help you sleep," she replied, her tone laced with mock sweetness. "You've been so... restless."
I shook my head, heart racing. "No. I won't."
Carina's smile faltered for a brief moment, then returned, colder than before. "You misunderstand, sister. This isn't a request."
Before I could react, she seized my arm, her grip vice-like. With a swift motion, she forced the goblet to my lips, tilting it so the liquid poured into my mouth. I struggled, but her strength was overwhelming. The bitter taste burned as it slid down my throat, and within moments, a wave of dizziness washed over me.
"Why?" I gasped, my vision blurring, limbs growing heavy.
"Because you refused to cooperate," she whispered, her voice a haunting lullaby. "And now, you will sleep... forever."
As the darkness claimed me, I heard her footsteps retreating, the door clicking shut behind her. The last thing I felt was the cold stone floor beneath me, and then... nothing.
Suddenly, a brilliant light pierced the darkness, enveloping me in its warmth. It was not harsh or blinding, but gentle and inviting. I felt weightless, as if floating in a vast, boundless space. Time lost all meaning; there was no past, no future—only the eternal present.
Memories, emotions, and sensations flooded my consciousness in a kaleidoscope of vivid imagery. I saw myself as a child, laughing with Michael and Davis, playing in the gardens of our family estate. I felt the warmth of our mother's embrace, the safety of our father's protection. But then, those images shifted, darkened—betrayal, loss, and pain.
I tried to grasp at the fleeting memories, to make sense of them, but they slipped away like sand through my fingers. Panic surged within me, but the light soothed my fears, wrapping me in a cocoon of peace and understanding.
And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the light began to fade. I felt myself falling, tumbling through the void, until...
I gasped, my eyes snapping open. The familiar scent of roses filled the air, and the soft rustle of silk against my skin greeted me. I sat up abruptly, my heart racing. The room around me was different—smaller, more intimate. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of nature, and the furniture was elegant yet simple.
I looked down at my hands—small, delicate, unscarred. My breath caught in my throat. I was... younger. I stood quickly, stumbling slightly as I made my way to the mirror. The reflection staring back at me was that of my younger self—no longer the woman who had suffered in the dungeon, but the girl I had been years ago.
Memories of the future surged within me—Carina's betrayal, Michael's death, my imprisonment. But they felt distant, like echoes from another life. I was here, in the past, with the knowledge of what was to come.