Chapter 2

The lock rattled.

Pale daylight stung my eyes.

Christian Farnese stood in the doorway, backlit, holding a candlestick in his hand.

He had come to collect my body.

When he saw me — leaning against the wall in the corner, watching him in silence — his pupils shrank.

"You… didn't die?"

His voice was laced with disbelief, and beneath it, a tremor he could barely conceal.

I looked at him calmly.

I didn't throw myself at his legs the way I used to. I didn't cry or wail about the pain.

I simply stood up straight and smoothed out the wrinkles in my disheveled skirt.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Your Grace."

My voice was soft, but every word came out clear.

Christian froze where he stood.

He stared at me, and the chamber candlestick in his hand tilted slightly. A drop of wax fell into the snow with a faint hiss.

"What did you just call me?" He stepped forward, his eyes sharp with suspicion. "You… you're not the silly girl anymore?"

"Thanks to that poisoned wine of yours, it all came back to me."

I met his gaze and didn't look away.

"I remember how my parents pushed me to take the blame. I remember how my sister was the one who tested your medicine and fell into a coma. And I remember…"

I paused. A cold smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"I remember how, for five years, Your Grace kept me in this manor like a pet."

The color drained from Christian Farnese's face.

He seemed unable to reconcile the woman standing before him — clear-eyed, composed, every word deliberate — with the silly Lottie who used to trail after him begging for sweets.

"If you recovered your senses long ago, why did you keep pretending?" he asked through gritted teeth, anger rekindling behind his eyes.

"And if I told you I only just came to my senses — would you believe me?"

I looked at him and almost laughed.

"But I suppose it doesn't matter either way."

I stepped past him and walked straight toward the door.

"Stop." He grabbed my wrist, his grip was iron-tight. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from the Farnese Palace." I pulled against his hold. He didn't let go.

"Away?" A cold laugh escaped him. "You deceived me for five years. You lived in luxury for five years. And now you think you can walk out with a single word?"

I stopped. I turned to look at him.

"What do you want for me then? Another cup of poisoned wine?"

His breath caught. The hand gripping my wrist loosened, just slightly, without him seeming to notice.

"Christian Farnese, I don't owe you anything."

I said it slowly, one word at a time.

"Back then, I had the mind of a child. My parents told me to go along with it, so I did. For five years, you gave me every comfort and luxury, and I gave you everything I had in return. You made me drink those bitter medicines — even though I would I gag, I swallowed them down anyway because you said it was for my own good."

"And what did you do?"

I held his gaze and forced him to see the coldness in mine.

"The moment you learned the truth, you didn't ask for any explanation. You just tried to kill me."

"The moment that the arsenical wine went down my throat, whatever was between us was even."

His lips trembled. He looked like he was trying to say something, but no words came.

A flash of panic crossed his eyes — and then he buried it.

"Even? It's not that simple." His face stayed cold. "Your sister is recovering here at the Palace. If you leave, what will she think? She would believe that I drove you out."

"That's your problem."

I wrenched my hand free.

"Christian, don't use my sister against me anymore. If you truly care for her, make it right with her. As for me... from this day on, I want nothing to do with you or the Farneses. Nothing at all."

I walked out into the wind and snow without looking back.

Behind me, Christian stood motionless for a long moment.

The candlestick slipped from his hand and fell into the snow. The flame struggled against the wind — and then eventually went out.