The Shadow in Her Chamber
King Gary didn't love her.
Their marriage had been molded not out of love, but out of a compact—a promise sealed by the ambition of their fathers. Gary's heart had been committed to someone else from the very start. Maria.
Natty had entered this castle as a maiden still clinging to hope, hoping to be a decent wife, a queen worthy of sitting on Vellore's throne. She had brought her innocence into the wedding night like a delicate glass container… and it shattered the same night. What greeted her was not love, not gentleness, but brutality.
Rough hands. Cruel thrusts. Her shrieks stifled by his clasp.
The memory continued to reside in her flesh—inscribed in the shuddering of her muscles whenever he visited her room.
Whenever she attempted to speak, to call for assistance from her father or even Gary's father, the fact never escaped her mouth. Gary stayed her with a threat so menacing it cut deeper than any sword: her little sister's life.
