Chapter 4: Old Wounds, New Promises

Derek’s state finals score—fourth place, second tier—should have been a ticket to a bright future. But then Amanda named him as her tutor at the Governor’s Ball, and all the old fears came roaring back.

It was a humid May night when Derek told me, pacing our tiny kitchen, shoes squeaking on the tile. I tried to focus on peeling potatoes, but my hands shook.

The news hit like a punch. My candle nearly spilled wax on my fingers. Why couldn’t I escape her?

It felt like fate kept dragging me back. No matter how far I ran, the mansion’s shadow found me. I gripped the counter, fighting the urge to bolt.

The Queen Mother had never truly cared for me. She sent me into the estate to protect her real children, confided her troubles as if I were just a tool. The Crown Prince—now King Caleb—always kept his distance, and the Queen Mother saw me only as a stand-in.

Those years blur together—the Queen Mother’s weary sighs, endless lessons on how to walk, talk, smile. I was always the backup plan, never the daughter. Caleb’s stare never softened, no matter what I did.

I didn’t know my real identity then. I just thought my brother was cold and my mother overwhelmed. So I tried everything—taking blame, playing pawn, even drinking poisoned wine for my brother.

That memory burns—the bitter taste, the cold tile, the hope that someone might finally see me. That night, Caleb held me, begging me not to die. For a moment, I believed I mattered. That hope drowned out the pain.

Looking back, he probably just didn’t want to lose a useful tool. Every warmth after that was just bait for loyalty.

Sometimes I wonder who I’d be if I’d never learned love could be calculated. Derek only asks for honesty—sometimes that’s a relief, sometimes it stings.