Chapter 3 Survival
The rough dirt road finally gave way to smooth, dark stone, indicating that the line of tribute carriages was approaching the imperial capital. Inside the cramped wooden carriage, the air felt heavy, filled with the smell of cheap lavender perfume and sour sweat.
The atmosphere was suffocating.
To Seris Lonell’s left, a young girl from a small northern noble house cried into her lace handkerchief, her shoulders shaking badly. Across from her, two sisters held hands so tightly that their knuckles had turned white, whispering desperate prayers to gods who had clearly abandoned them the moment their names were written on the imperial decree.
Every girl in the carriage had heard the terrible rumours about the Rite Women.
They knew the palace was a place where noble daughters were sent and never returned, though no one truly knew what happened behind those tall grey walls.
They only knew it meant death.
Seris sat static beside the small barred window, watching the sharp mountain peaks slowly pass by.
She did not cry. She did not pray.
To the other girls, her calm face looked strange and almost cold and distant
But it wasn’t because Seris wasn’t afraid. It was simply because she had learned a long time ago that tears changed nothing.
My fate was already decided before I entered this carriage, she thought, her fingers lightly tracing a loose thread on her simple grey dress.
Crying won’t change anything.
“How can you just sit there looking at the view?”
The sudden, sharp voice pulled Seris from her thoughts
It was the girl sitting directly across from her, the one who had been biting her lip until it bled. Her eyes were red, desperate for anything to take her mind off her fear.
“Why were you chosen? Which house do you belong to?”
The other girls stopped crying and turned to look at Seris, eager for anything that could break the painful silence.
“I am Seris,” she replied softly, her voice polite but careful. “Of House Lonell.”
The northern girl let out a bitter laugh.
“House Lonell? The shipping barons? Your family is extremely wealthy. My father cried when I left. He shouted at the imperial messengers until they threatened to arrest him. My family is poor. We had no choice.”
“My brothers tried to stop them too,” another girl said, wiping her wet cheeks. “They even drew their swords. We had to hold them back before the royal guards killed them.”
She looked back at Seris.
“What about your family? Surely a wealthy Baron could have found another way. What did they do?”
Seris stayed silent for a long moment, staring down at her lap.
The memory of her departure felt like a heavy weight in her chest.
“They did not object,” Seris said quietly.
The simple words hit the carriage like a slap. The other girls fell silent, looking away with a mix of pity and discomfort.
A family that didn’t even try to protect their own daughter was something they hadn’t expected to hear.
The memory returned to Seris, clear and unwanted.
Three weeks ago, the sun had been shining brightly over the grand estate of Baron Lonell. The sudden arrival shattered the peaceful afternoon as an imperial messenger rode a horse bearing the royal crest.
The decree was read aloud in the grand hall. Every noble family had to either pay a huge war tribute to support the eastern campaign or send a qualified pure-blood daughter to the palace.
Baron Lonell could easily afford the tribute. His warehouses were full of spices, silk, and gold. He had the choice to save his daughter.
“The tribute is far too expensive, My Lord,” Lady Cassia had said sharply later that evening.
Seris had been standing outside the study with a tray of tea in her hands when she heard her name.
“Why waste a fortune that took us years to build when we already have a perfect solution right here?”
“She is still my daughter, Cassia,” Baron had muttered weakly.
“Then perhaps you should start treating her like one,” Cassia snapped. “She does nothing except walk around the gardens. She brings no benefit to this family. The empire will never notice one quiet daughter missing, but they will certainly notice if our wealth disappears.”
“The choice is obvious, Father,” another voice joined in.
It was Aivia, Seris’s half-sister.
“If we pay the tribute, my dowry for the Duke’s son will be ruined. Do you really want to destroy my future to save a useless girl living in the attic?”
Baron stayed completely silent. And that silence was what doomed Seris. It wasn’t burning hatred that sent her to the Beast King’s palace. It was the quiet cowardice of a father who valued his wealth and his favourite daughter’s comfort more than Seris’s life.
Standing in that dark hallway, Seris hadn’t dropped the tray. She hadn’t rushed into the room. She hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t begged for her life.
She had closed her eyes, feeling a quiet heartbreak settle deep inside her, and walked back to her small room.
Nobody was fighting for her. Nobody was even pretending to care.
As she packed her small bag that night, her late mother’s final words echoed in her mind like a shield.
Hide your gift, Seris. Never let them see what you can do. The world only values power it can control. If they find out, they will turn you into a tool.
For years, Seris had protected her secret. She had hidden the fact that her touch could heal wounds and take away pain.
In a world that preyed on weak women, being unnoticed was her only protection.
A sharp gasp suddenly pulled Seris back to the present.
Outside, the huge iron-and-stone gates of the imperial capital stood in front of them like the open mouth of a giant monster. Beyond them, the imperial palace rose into the grey sky. It was a huge fortress made of dark stone, tall towers, and glowing magical shields. Just looking at it made people feel small and useless.
The other girls rushed to the windows. Fear filled the carriage as the heavy chains of the gates started to move with a deep groan.
Seris looked through the iron bars of her window, watching the dark palace. Her heart did not beat faster.
She had already accepted that this cold, scary place was where her new life, or her death, would begin.
The carriage moved forward and entered the palace grounds. The moment they passed under the shadow of the main gate, something strange happened.
A sudden shock went through Seris’s body.
It did not hurt. But it felt like an invisible rope had wrapped around her chest and was pulling her toward the tall towers ahead.
A cold feeling spread over her skin. She gasped softly.
She had never felt anything like it before.
High above the courtyard, inside the dark halls of the imperial tower, Emperor Darius Alkov suddenly hit his hand against a stone wall.
He froze. His eyes opened wide in shock.
One hand grabbed his chest as his breath stopped in his throat. The painful scratching inside his mind suddenly disappeared.
The Beast.
The monster that had screamed, fought, and tormented him every second for the last ten years.
It suddenly became silent. The Beast lowered its huge head and turned toward the palace gates below, as if it had heard something important. As if it were listening to a beautiful sound. Darius stood still.
For ten long years, the Beast had never been silent.
Not even once. Yet now, for the first time, the monster that had haunted his entire life had found something worth listening to.
