Scarlett
I jolt awake with a scream, my heart pounding like I've been chased by a hound, my body soaked in sweat.
The same nightmare. The same faceless monster that haunts my dreams. I never see his face. Never his eyes. Only his low, rough voice.
"You are mine, Scar." The way he says my name makes my blood run cold.
I sigh tiredly. My nightmares are yet my escape from this sheltered life.
"Miss Scarlett. It's almost time for breakfast," a maid standing in the doorway says.
I sigh and drag myself out of bed to begin my Saturday routine, which has remained unchanged for as long as I can remember.
Afterward, I join my stepmom and step-siblings in the living room. While they fuss over preparations for tonight's royal ball, I lose myself in my book.
Reading is yet another escape from my reality.
"Stay away from the cursed child, Lola," Grace warns coldly, and Lola bolts as if I burned her.
I choke back tears, pretending her words don't hurt me. Convinced I'm cursed, Grace makes sure her children never get close to me. We don't even eat at the same table.
I mechanically stare out the floor-to-ceiling window.
It's been seventeen years of sheltered, painful life.
Seventeen years of wishing to be free.
My step-sisters get to go wherever they like, do whatever they want, date whoever they love, break hearts, go on vacations, party, and attend tonight's annual royal ball, which I have never attended before.
I'm my father's favorite daughter, yet I envy my sisters because I don't have the liberty they have.
Instead, my family is grooming me to marry into royalty when I turn eighteen next year, stuffing noble etiquette down my throat.
Dad says it's the only way I can be free from my sheltered life. But I deserve better.
I'm tired of seeing the world through my windows. I've never walked the streets since I was born.
Classrooms, cars, and home—that's all I've ever known. I'm totally cut off, no phone, no TV, nothing.
"Stop staring out the window, Scarlett. You'll never go out there on your own free will. Well, except in your dreams," the eldest daughter ridicules.
My three stepsisters giggle and snort mockingly.
I flash them a glare.
"Careful, Ronnie, or the witch will use her illness to make Dad ground you tonight."
Grace ignores them. I know she is enjoying this.
My throat tightens with emotions, and my hands angrily clench around the book.
I'm trying to be impervious to their insults and hatred, but they make it really hard.
"Even the product of a one-night stand gets to talk," I clap back at Ronnie.
Grace storms closer, yanks me from the couch by my hair, and slaps me hard across the face.
"A cursed girl shouldn't run her mouth carelessly," she bites out.
My cheek burns under my palm as I stare at her, emotions clogging my throat.
She grips my arm. "You should be ashamed, Scarlett. Your mysterious sickness is incurable, which marks your curse."
"Stop it. Please." Tears trickle down my face. Her words are brutally hurtful.
"Your mother and siblings died because of you. Then your uncle, and then your aunt. It's pretty convenient how your grandparents also died the moment you started living with them."
"I'm not cursed. You're wrong," I yell through tears
She grabs my face, her nails digging into my cheeks. "Ronnie is far better than you, anyway. She has something you'll never have. Freedom."
The truth hurts even more.
"I'd warned you before, and I'll warn you again and again. If I lose another child, or God forbid, I lose my George, I'll kill you. So you'd better join your mom and siblings in hell before that happens."
She says that like a mantra. It doesn't hurt, only reminds me of why I have to leave my father's control.
I start toward my dad's study the second she lets go. My dad has to see what the real witch has done to my face.
"Go. Tell your dad. Daddy's little prisoner."
I choke back the tears that threaten to fall. But the word prisoner cuts into me like a blade, leaving my heart aching.
Only getting to my dad's office, I freeze at the doorway. The tremors of fear, the weight of desperation, and the hollow sadness in his voice stop me cold.
"Don't take my little girl away from me. I'm begging you. Please."
"We had an agreement, George. I'm only asking that you honor that agreement."
"I will. Believe me, I will. But Scarlett, she… the child has yet to become a woman, and she has her whole life ahead of her. She's ill and broken. She needs her family. Please understand."
"Face it, George. Protecting her is beyond your power now. I am only letting you know that I will make my move at any moment."
"Give her some time. Just a little more time. I'm begging on my knees, please."
Who's he talking to?
Curious, my fingers rest on the doorknob.
The door opens before I can even attempt to turn the knob.
"Scarlett." Dad smiles. His smile is off. He's trying to hide something more than the frustration I already see in his eyes.
I peel my eyes from Dad's face and stare into his study.
A tall, muscular man in a black suit stood sideways near Dad's office table, nursing his rum as he stared at nothingness. His raven hair shadows part of his face.
He has a creepy demeanor.
Dad shuts the door as if he's preventing me from seeing him further.
Dad caresses my cheek, his eyes full of anger, and concern for me. "What happened to your face, sweetheart?"
His fingers are cold. He's never been like this before, which stirs my curiosity. Who was that man?
Whoever that man was, he's got Dad wrapped around his finger.
It'll be useless to pry. Dad won't be honest.
I'm here to drop a dime on Grace, but after what I just witnessed, the question's burning my tongue.
"I want the truth. About why I have to live like a prisoner. Does it have anything to do with why those humans tried to kill me yesterday?"
Dad squats and holds my arms soothingly, giving me a reassuring gaze.
"No, sweetie. Of course not. You're important. That's all."
Anger and despair crash down on me. I can't help but frown. He's repeated that for an unhealthy number of times. I can even recite it in my sleep.
Important to whom? For what? Are my step-siblings any less important?
"You always—"
"You're going to the royal ball tonight." He grins wryly.
Every anger I'd felt earlier disappears, giving way to excitement and a thrill of anticipation. I can't contain a smile. For the very first time, I'll be at the royal ball.
"Thank you, Daddy!" I squeal, jumping into his arms.
He hugs me back. "You deserve at least this much, pumpkin."
No, I deserve better.
I won't be a prisoner anymore after tonight. Because I'll make my escape.
He pulls away and smiles painfully, cupping my face. "You'll always be my little girl. I won't let anyone take you away from me," he asserts.
My smile weakens as fear creeps into me. He'd never sounded this way before. Something is wrong—I can feel it in my gut.
What business does he have with that strange man? And what does it have to do with me?