LUCY
A maid did wash me—maids, rather—and I'm lucky my skin is still intact on my bones.
The maids scrubbed me as though they had a personal vendetta against me… against my very skin. They scrubbed until I felt raw, until every nerve ending burned, and I'm strangely okay with it because the pain kept me focused, kept me from sliding completely into madness.
I didn't even speak or make a sound when they made their derogatory remarks, when they smacked my head under the pretense of washing it.
Just like me, they knew my parents had disowned me. I was nothing in their eyes. I was like a mere human. Nothing.
Now I'm dressed in fresh clothing, and I was right not to bank on my father's mercies, because he gave me nothing. I was leaving the kingdom alone—with no money, no escort, nothing.
How will I survive?
The thought has me sinking slowly onto the edge of the bed, my eyes stinging all over again. Maybe I should have played the game better. Maybe I should have married Doyle…
Wishes are not horses, so a beggar like me cannot ride.
Having lived a life of luxury all this while, I cannot even begin to imagine how I will survive when I cannot so much as lift a broom.
Then I feel a presence before me—just moments before my mother's scent finally reaches my nostrils.
Without looking up, I push to my feet, fingers tightening around the handle of my traveling box.
"I'm just about leaving…" I hurry the words out, already moving, in case she is here to scold me again.
But when I finally lift my gaze, she is simply staring at me blankly.
However, I know her. I know she is drowning in annoyance beneath that stillness. I am her only child, never mind what they say, and I know she loves me… or at least, she loved me once.
But she wouldn't believe me.
Why won't she believe me?
I'm her daughter, for gods' sake! Wolfless or not.
"You can take it back…" she finally says, stepping fully into the room. The broken door still hangs crooked on its hinges. "I'm sure your father can convince the priest… you can marry Doyle still. Isn't the best way to hurt Mina—if you are right—marriage to Doyle?"
I shake my head slowly. "He plans to oust me after the marriage… after the scepter has been given to him."
"You sound crazy…" my mother says quietly. "Doyle loves you. As does Mina. This morning she came crying that she wants to convince you… and now you blame her for killing the child. How will she—when she is not aware of the pregnancy? Or did you tell her?"
"I didn't. But she is the healer's daughter."
"…who is your father's friend," my mother completes heavily. "Do you think he will risk an age-long friendship with his two closest friends for a rumor? Or do you have evidence of your accusations?"
I shake my head mutely.
My mother sighs tiredly, and walks slowly to the bed before sitting down.
"Lucy…" she sighs again, clasping her hands tightly together.
My mother has always been a soft woman, and the guilt of hurting her presses painfully against my ribs.
"Just marry Doyle. I promise your fears are unfounded… we can even get the healer to check your mind…"
I shut my eyes slowly and pull my box closer to myself, my heart hardening, layer by layer, into stone.
She truly thinks I'm going mad.
"You will believe an outsider over your daughter?" My voice comes out hoarse. "You think I will suddenly sabotage my relationship with Doyle? I loved him!"
"Then marry him!" she bursts out, frustration finally cracking through. "I don't understand this madness!"
"That's because you are not listening to me!"
I start crying again. In these past hours, I have cried more than I have in my entire life.
"Lucy, please… the throne—"
"So it's the throne you care for, not me…"
Her eyes flash with sudden anger.
"The throne is more important," she says firmly. "It has to stay in the family. It is the one way you can pay us back for being good to you."
"You are my mother… you are obligated to be good to me!" My voice breaks. "I don't have to pay you back!"
"Yes, you are right," she says stiffly. "But only a real Alpha daughter has that right. And you don't. Go and check wolfless people in times past and see how they were treated. Then you will be grateful to us… and listen to us."
"I am leaving," I say coldly, the words tasting like ash. "Is there anything else you want to say?"
She sighs again and rises slowly to her feet. She tries to touch me, but I step back fast, anger flashing hot through my veins.
Her shoulders sag. Without another word, she hands me a small box.
"It should tidy you over when you get to the lands of the humans," she says quietly. "Until you get a job and an apartment."
She pauses.
"And don't listen to your father… whenever you are ready to marry Doyle, you can always return. We will find a way around it—as long as the scepter hasn't been handed to Doyle yet. So you have a year to think. Two years at most. This money should hold you until you return…"
I take the box slowly. When I open it, my breath catches.
Wads of cash. Gold jewelry, pieces that can be sold for a great deal.
"Thank you…" I whisper. At least she thought of me… even if for selfish reasons.
"Will… you return, Lucy… for me?" she asks softly as I pull my box and step into the hallway.
I stop. But I don't turn back.
And I don't answer.
I just keep walking, after a second ticked by.
If I ever return… it will not be to marry Doyle.
I make that vow silently, anger and grief pushing me forward, out of the room, out of the life I once knew.
I would rather start a new life with the humans.
Maybe… just maybe… I can make something of my existence there, since the goddess has clearly forgotten me.