Chapter four
Raven’s Pov;
I returned to the second princess’s chambers just before dusk, my mind heavy with the weight of what was to come.
Three months. That’s all I had left.
Just three months.
If I could pass the female official examination, I’d earn my freedom. No more servitude. No more bowing to cruelty. And most importantly, I could take Mother away from this place before her sickness claimed her.
I had to pass.
But first, I had to survive this night.
I wasn’t afraid of the king of Grok, facing him wouldn’t be worse than what I had faced in this place. It wouldn’t be worse than my life now.
The moment I stepped inside her chambers, the air felt thick with the tension that had settled since princess Ellie’s return from the palace. Servants moved cautiously, avoiding her gaze, their hands trembling as they arranged the bedspreads and flower vases.
I barely made it two steps before a vase shattered against the wall beside me.
I didn’t flinch.
Princess Ellie stood in the center of the room, her chest rising and falling with barely contained rage.
"You," she seethed. "You’re finally back."
I lowered my head, keeping my tone even. “Yes, Your Highness.”
She trembled, her golden eyes burning with resentment. “My father expects me to greet that beast.” She spat the word like poison. “To welcome him as if he is worthy of respect.”
Silence stretched between us.
She let out a bitter laugh. “Perhaps I should put a leash over my neck so he could play worh like a dog.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
Then, she turned to me. Her gaze sharpened, eyes searching my face as if looking for something to break.
I knew that look.
A split second later, her hand lashed out. The back of her palm cracked across my cheek.
Pain flared through my face, but I barely moved. I had long since learned how to brace for impact.
Still, my fingers curled into my skirt.
“You stand there like you feel nothing!” she hissed. “Does nothing ever reach you?”
I didn’t answer. Anything I said would fuel her anger.
Her nails dug into my arm. “My father has thrown me to the wolves, and you..” her voice broke slightly, then sharpened again. “You look at me like I should accept it.”
I did look at her. But not with pity.She was a princess. She had choices. I didn’t.
She would be sent to meet a king…even though he was a barbarian. But I would be left in the ashes of this kingdom if I didn’t escape soon.
For that, I could not bring myself to feel sorry for her.
"Say something!"
I met her gaze, cold and unwavering. “I will make all the necessary preparations, Your Highness.”
She exhaled harshly, releasing me with a shove. “See that you do.”
I bowed and left without another word. Not because I feared her. But because I had no time to waste.
An hour later, I was in the storage house, running my fingers over the empty grain sack.
We were running low. Again.
The second princess had extravagant meals, while the servants barely got crumbs. But more importantly, Mother needed food. She needed medicine.
I couldn't fail her.
A heavy sigh made me turn. The housekeeper stood in the doorway, her sharp eyes flicking to my bruised wrist.
She reached for my arm. “It’s getting worse.”
I pulled back. “It’s nothing.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You are not a rag doll for her to throw around.”
“I know.”
“You say that, but you still let her.”
“I have three months left.” My voice was quiet but firm. “Just three months before the female official examination. Three months before I can take my Mother away from here.”
The housekeeper’s face softened, but she didn’t argue. She simply nodded.
"Then we better make sure you survive the next three months, because this is getting worse."
I exhaled, relieved by the shift. “We need to prepare before the Grok King arrives. The kitchen is out of supplies. The patrols”
“…are short-staffed,” she finished.
I nodded. “We need extra shipments before tomorrow, but we need the steward’s approval.”
“Then we’ll get it.” She turned to leave but then paused, glancing back at me. “And, Raven?”
“Yes?”
“You’ll pass that exam.”
Her confidence startled me.
I clenched my fists. I have to.
I glanced at the bruises on my arms. This was something I could get rid of quickly with the miracle herb, but I was already out of it and going back to the woods terrified me.
What if I saw him again?
I let out a long sigh. It wasn’t like I was committing a crime, so why should I be scared? Still! I didn’t like the way he had looked at me, I didn’t like how I felt about him!
“What are you thinking to yourself so loudly?” a familiar figure came to view.
"Tate?"
Knight Tate, my childhood friend. The one who had always been there for me.
He saved me from a wild boar attack a few years ago and ever since, I’ve felt indebted to him. He was the only person who had ever truly cared about me, or so I thought. He had a way of making me feel safe, even when the world around me felt so uncertain.
He had an unrecognizable expression on his face. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly, his voice soft, but firm.
I chuckled, hoping he didn’t notice how nervous I was. “Yea! I’m fine.”
He peered into my face, his eyes darting around as though he was searching for something in them. “Really?”
I nodded rapidly and gave him my brightest smile.
He smiled back and I felt his warm hands on mine.
Suddenly, His fingers gently pushed back the sleeve of my dress.
I froze. I didn’t want him to see these again!
His fingers brushed the bruises, and I flinched, but he didn’t pull away. His jaw tightened, his breath sharp.
"You let her do this to you again," he said, voice tight with restrained anger.
I swallowed hard. “It doesn’t matter."
He was angry, but I didn't get why he was this angry. It wasn’t like this was his fault and nobody could stop her anyways!
His grip on my wrist tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to hold me in place. "It matters to me, Raven. You should fight back, don’t just stand there and let her do as she pleases to you”.
“Tate…”
“You’re just too fragile, too innocent and this is such a harsh world! You don’t deserve any of these!”
I smiled. Tate had always been kind to me since I was a child.
I let out a deep sigh. "If I fight back, it won’t just be me who suffers. The other maids, my mother… they would bear the consequences. This way, it ends with me."
His expression darkened. "That's not how it should be."
"But that’s how it is," I whispered.
For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then, with a quiet sigh, he reached into his belt and pulled out a small jar. "At least let me help."
I let him apply the medicine to my wounds, his touch gentle..
"This is the last time," he murmured.
I forced a small smile. "You’ve said that before."
"And I’ll keep saying it until you listen."
His fingers lingered on my wrist before he pulled away.
"Be careful," he said, his voice softer this time.
I nodded. "I will.”
He turned to leave and I thought about the stranger from the woods again.
I had never seen him before which meant that he was new to the kingdom and who else knew everyone in the village if not the knights?
“Tate?”
He halted before turning around to face me. “Yes?”
“I…”I hesitated, wondering why the hell I was so curious.
“Raven, are you okay?” Tara walked towards me and I forced a smile.
“Yea, I just remembered something, but it’s not important. Don’t mind me,” I grinned, but from the expression on his face, I knew that he wasn’t convinced.
“You’re sure?”
I nodded land flashed him my brightest smile.”I’m fine, let’s go, I need to see my mum,” I walked out and he followed me, walking me to the servant’s quarters.
By the time I returned to my mother’s quarters, the candle by her bedside had burned low, casting flickering shadows against the walls.
She was asleep, her breaths shallow and her skin, pale.
I knelt beside her, pressing a hand to her forehead. She was warm. Too warm.
“It’s getting worse.”
I reached for the herbs I had gathered earlier and began grinding them into a paste. But as I worked, my hands trembled. I wasn’t sure if it was from exhaustion or fear.
A soft rustling broke the silence.
"Raven?"
I turned quickly, my heart clenching at the weak sound of my mother’s voice.
"I’m here," I said softly, reaching for her hand.
She opened her eyes, her gaze searching my face. "You cried?"
I shook my head. "No. I’m Just tired."
She smiled faintly. "You were never good at lying to me."
I pressed my lips together, focusing on wrapping her wrist with a damp cloth.
"You worry too much," she murmured.
"And you don’t worry enough."
She gave me a tired laugh. "Perhaps."
I bit my lip, looking down at her fragile form. "You need to get better, Mother."
Her fingers curled around mine, weak but warm. "I will. I promise."