Chapter2

I was dragged back into the Wolf Clan's royal palace by Kaelen.

He threw me onto the floor, pointing at several trembling maids. "Wash that disgusting stench off her." He stood a few steps away, refusing to touch me even for a second longer.

A maid braved the tension, stepping forward to untie my mud-caked cloak. The moment her hand neared my shoulder, a wretched, shrill whimper burst from my throat. Like a fiercely startled wild beast, I curled into a tight ball, clutching my head desperately.

"Anya! What act are you putting on now?" Hearing my whimper, Kaelen barged closer, seizing my right wrist.

The ragged sleeve slipped down to my elbow. Right there, on the inner side of my forearm, a blackened brand was exposed to his view. It was the specific brand the Lion Clan used to mark their lowest-grade mounts.

The strength in Kaelen's fingers suddenly loosened. His pupils constricted, and his voice dropped low. "What is this? Who did this?"

I shrank my neck back, unable to squeeze out a single word. Do not answer. Speaking out of turn means getting your teeth knocked out. That was the rule for the past three years.

"Let me handle her, Kaelen." A soft voice broke the dead silence.

My younger sister, Elara, dressed in a pristine white hide skirt, walked in slowly. She gently pushed away Kaelen's rigid arm. As she took a step closer, I couldn't stop my body from shivering.

Back then, it was her dog that had gone mad and bitten me. I had merely fought back and killed it, yet she ran to Kaelen crying, claiming I wanted to murder her and her beloved pet. She complained that I was too violent and that I would ruin the royal image of the Wolf Clan, suggesting that the Lion Clan's hound-breaking camp would properly fix my temper.

Kaelen believed her frame-up entirely. He not only secretly built the camp for me, but he arranged the Lion Clan actors and instructed the rest of our people to play along with the lie.

"You've had a hard time during your training, sister. Let me help you wash." Elara knelt down, her hands moving swiftly as she grabbed the ties of my cloak and gave a hard yank.

My body was exposed to the open air. I was nothing but skin and bones, my flesh covered in overlapping layers of bruised, purple, and even yellowing old scars.

"How did you get hurt this badly?" Kaelen's voice pitched slightly. I caught a fleeting glimmer of shock and unbearable pity flashing through his eyes.

But before he could say another word, Elara suddenly covered her mouth, tears spilling frantically down her cheeks. "What is my sister doing?" She grabbed Kaelen's sleeve with trembling hands, her face full of grievance. "Does she know my health has been frail these past two years, so she purposely starved herself into this shriveled state... just to frame me and win your sympathy, Kaelen?"

That brief trace of pity vanished from Kaelen's eyes in an instant.

He violently threw my wrist aside. "What a familiar, pathetic trick." He looked down at me from his towering height, turning away in disgust. "Looking at you only makes me sick."

His footsteps receded, and the heavy door was slammed shut with impatient force.

Only Elara, myself, and a few bowing maids remained in the bathroom.

"Leave, all of you," Elara ordered, wiping away her tears and waving her hand. The maids immediately retreated.

The second the door clicked shut, the fragile disguise on Elara's face evaporated. She let out a cold sneer, assessing my skeletal frame. "Anya, you really are hard to kill." She stepped on my discarded, filthy cloak and walked to the edge of the pool. "How did it feel being humiliated by the lions and fighting dogs for food in that camp? I spent quite a few gold coins instructing them to 'take good care' of you."

"But do you know what the most amusing part is? Kaelen never once asked about your whereabouts. For three years, he spent every single night in my bed."

Before my brain could even process the sheer weight of her words, Elara grabbed me by the hair. She shoved my head ruthlessly into the scalding hot spring water.

Driven by sheer instinct, I thrashed wildly, my hands blindly scratching at the porcelain tiles along the pool's edge. But she planted her foot on my shoulder, pressing her entire body weight down on my head. Deprived of oxygen, black spots danced across my vision.

Fueled by a desperate will to survive, I violently curled my knee and kicked backward with all my might. Elara let out a piercing shriek, throwing herself backward in an exaggerated arc before crashing onto the tiled floor.

I pulled my head out of the water with a frantic jerk, coughing violently.

Bang!

The door was kicked open, and Kaelen stormed in. Without sparing me a single glance, he strode right past me, anxiously scooping the fallen Elara into his arms. "What happened? Are you hurt anywhere?"

Elara buried her face in his chest, sobbing. "Don't blame my sister, I accidentally slipped on my own. If I hadn't suggested building that camp for Anya's training back then, she wouldn't hate me this much! Kaelen, just send me to her to atone for my sins!"

Kaelen tenderly wiped the water droplets from her cheeks. He turned his head, glaring at me as I clung to the edge of the pool, shivering and coughing continuously.

"Anya! Elara is your own flesh and blood, yet you are this vicious toward her. Stay right here and wash that pitch-black heart and soul of yours." He swept Elara up into his arms and marched out of the bathroom without an ounce of hesitation.

I sat numbly in the water. The warmth softened the blood scabs over my wounds, bringing a stinging pain, but I felt as though I could no longer process sorrow.

The maids eventually re-entered. They washed away the grime and dressed me in an opulent, high-quality beast-hide skirt.

They led me to the dining hall. Sitting dead center on the long table was a platter of premium roasted snow deer, an exclusive delicacy for the royal family, heavily sprinkled with precious spices.

"The King has ordered that you must finish this before returning to your quarters," a maid conveyed expressionlessly.

I clamped my hands tightly over my mouth, a violent wave of nausea churning wildly in my gut. For the past three years, all I had eaten were putrid organs and rotting bones. My stomach had fully adapted to the stench of decay; it simply could not handle a single bite of normal food.

But the royal guards standing nearby were staring holes into me. If I refused to eat, it would likely mean another whipping.

I forced myself to take a bite.

Barely three seconds passed.

A maddening spasm of agony ripped through my abdomen. My entire body curled in on itself, and I collapsed onto the floor, rolling around in a frantic, uncontrollable fit of pain.

"Princess!" The maids standing on both sides turned deathly pale from fright, their terrified screams completely shattering the silence of the palace corridors.

"Hurry, get the witch doctor! Go fetch the King!"