It was raining cats and dogs, the downpour relentless and heavy. The wind howled louder than before, rattling the trees and flinging leaves across the mud-streaked path. Thunder roared in the distance, followed by the galloping of horses, the clashing of swords—and worst of all—the sharp, terrifying bang of a gunshot.
Riella slowly opened her eyes, her vision blurry, her head pounding. She felt dizzy, her eyelids heavy as if weighed down by stones. All around her, the world rocked with the rhythm of wheels turning. She was inside a moving carriage, surrounded by girls her age and two elderly women. They all looked frightened and exhausted.
She tried to lift her head but failed, the dizziness washing over her in waves. Her body was too weak, her mind too foggy to think. So she closed her eyes again—and blacked out.
---
Hours passed.
It took nearly three before the carriage finally came to a halt. Outside, muffled voices floated through the thick rain. Riella stirred again, this time feeling a little more aware, though her body still ached and her head throbbed.
The carriage door creaked open. A man stood outside, his face stoic, water dripping from his hood.
"You can get down now, ladies," he said calmly.
One by one, the girls filed out, leaving Riella the only one still inside.
She sat there, frozen.
Her hands rested on her lap, stained with dried blood—her mother's blood. She stared at them in silence, the memories of that night returning like a cruel wave crashing against her soul.
Tears slipped quietly down her cheeks.
"M-Mom…" she whispered, voice cracking. "I couldn't save you."
Her shoulders trembled as more tears came. In that moment, she didn't look like the strong, fearless girl her mother always believed her to be. She looked fragile. Small. Broken.
"Miss… you have to come down now," the man said again, his voice softer this time, almost gentle.
Riella looked up at him.
He wore the same uniform as the men who had stormed her house. The same clothes as those who murdered Angela. Her heart seized.
But something about this one was… different. His tone was calm. His eyes held something the others didn't—pity.
Still, Riella didn't trust him. She backed away from his outstretched hand.
"I can manage," she said hoarsely. "You don't have to help me."
He nodded quietly and stepped aside.
Cautiously, Riella stepped down from the carriage, her bare feet touching the cold, wet stone of the courtyard. She wrapped her arms around her chest, shielding herself from the wind as her eyes scanned her new surroundings.
The place was massive, walled off from the outside world by a towering black gate. Guards stood at intervals along the perimeter, and buildings stretched into the mist beyond. She had no idea where they were—but it wasn't anywhere she wanted to be.
She could feel their eyes on her.
People stared—some with awe, others with thinly veiled jealousy. Her long, black hair, now wet and tangled, still shone under the dim grey light. Her skin, pale and smooth like glass, seemed out of place in this dreary, unknown land.
Riella lowered her gaze, crossing her arms tighter. She hated the way they looked at her—like she was a curiosity. A threat. Or worse… property.
Then, a short woman with tanned skin and a commanding presence stepped forward. Her tone was firm but not unkind.
"Follow me," she said, addressing the group. "You'll be given clothes, food, water, and a place to rest."
Reluctantly, Riella followed.
She didn't speak. Her mind was lost in thought. Everything still felt surreal—like a nightmare she hadn't yet woken from.
But one thing was certain.
If she was going to escape this place, she needed her strength. First, she'd change into something warmer. Then, she'd eat. She couldn't afford to collapse from hunger—not if she planned to run.
Because escape wasn't just a wish anymore.
It was her only option.