[CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains dark themes, including psychological trauma, depictions of attempted sexual assault, and gore. Reader discretion is advised.]
"Unlike the ghosts of my childhood and the cruel whispers of the servants, the passing of time has finally become a familiar companion.
My only creed now is survival—anything to avoid returning to that desolate cell. It was a place of hollow echoes and unspeakable pain."
"Thus, I became a vessel of blind obedience. Had my father commanded me to sever my own hand, I would have done so without a tremor. I have carved his authority into the very marrow of my soul—not out of love, but out of a paralyzing, bone-deep terror."
She paused, the silence stretching between them like a fraying wire.
"There is something you do not know," she whispered, her voice brittle. "I succumbed to the haze of drugs for a long time. Mathias knows."
Isabella leaned forward, her breath catching. "You... you were using?"
