Kiara.

You know that feeling when your stomach drops, not because you’ve fallen, but because you finally understand something you wish you never knew?

Yeah. That.

It hit me somewhere between my mother’s forced smile and the faint scent of bleach coming from the room they told me was mine.

Correction. The storage closet.

"Trust me, you just need to clean this place up and it will be good." She said with a tone that was deliberately casual, brushing off the horror of the sight in front of me

I just couldn't believe what was going on. Not even in the worst nightmares that I've had in that forest did I ever think that I would spend three years in hell and finally come home to sleep in a utility closet in my father's house!

I stepped inside slowly, then turned to her. “What about my room?”

Her hand jerked slightly where it gripped the doorknob. “The house was remodeled,” she said lightly. “Your room was… converted.”

I didn’t blink. “Into what?”

Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. “A walk-in closet,” she said, as if that was supposed to make me hay.

I laughed once, short and sharp. “Of course.”

There was a pause—awkward, brittle.

Then I said evenly, “Then I’ll move out.”

She flinched. It was quick, but I saw it. And it wasn’t guilt.

It was fear.

“I’m afraid that’s… complicated,” she said. “That house we bought for your wedding…”

I waited. I already knew where this was going.

“…It’s in her name now.”

My jaw tightened.

Her.

The new darling. the one and only sweetheart of the family.

I felt anew the dwelling of despair. The pain I felt in my heart was indescribable. But maybe it was a good thing, because now I do feel something. At least now I knew I was very much alive.

A low growl rippled from behind us.

Kaiser.

He stepped forward, fists clenched at his sides. His face was thundercloud-dark, his voice taut with rage. “This is too much.”

My heart twisted at the sound of him.

But Lyla moved fast—like she’d rehearsed it.

She placed a delicate hand on his arm and gave a tremble just dramatic enough to look unintentional. “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, eyes wide and wet. “Do you… still have feelings for her?”

Her voice cracked on the last word.

Kaiser froze.

And that was the moment I knew.

Whatever flicker of loyalty he had left for me—it wasn’t enough.

He looked at me like I was something broken, something maybe dangerous. Something he used to love… but now couldn’t even recognize.

“I just pity her,” he said.

Flat. Final.

Not even a heartbeat of hesitation.

I didn’t look away. I made myself stand still, made myself absorb every syllable like poison soaking into my skin.

She nodded, lips pursed in a perfect imitation of sympathy. Like letting me stay here was some act of divine mercy. Like she hadn’t clawed her way into my life, my family, and now stood in the ruins of everything I lost—wearing my dresses, sitting in my place at the table, bearing the title that should’ve been mine.

And the best part?

She was adopted.

My mother stepped forward briskly, voice clipped. “You’ll use the guest bathroom on the first floor. It’s shared with the help, but we’ll make do. Meals will be delivered in disposable containers. It’s safer. You’ll stay in the storage room for now. Once things… settle, we’ll consider building something separate.”

Maybe she could just stop talking, because I just couldn't take it anymore. The words that came out of her mouth were breaking me gradually but she didn't know it. Every syllable was another nail in the coffin they’d buried me in before my body was even cold.

My breath came sharp, but I forced it steady. No tears. Not here. Not for them.

I walked past my mother without a word, and when she called out to me I didn't stop, or even slow down. I just kept walking away as if I had not heard her.

My mother was shocked. I have ever ignored her like that before. Amazed, then with a rush of anger she lifted her gown and stumbled after me.

I walked through the hallway and went back into the living room. Then I stopped.

I sat down hard on the leather couch, spine straight, chin up.

“I’ll sleep here,” I said.

The silence that followed was absolute.

My mother looked scandalized.

Kaiser’s jaw twitched.

Lyla tilted her head with a frown, like I was a stray mutt tracking mud on her polished floors.

“You can’t—” my mother started.

I met her eyes. “You’ve already stripped me of my title, my home, and my fiancé. But you will not strip me of my dignity.”

She blinked. “This isn’t about dignity, Kiara, it’s—”

“It’s exactly about dignity.” My voice was quiet, but each word landed like a slap. “You chose her over me. I don’t blame you. I’m sure it made grieving easier. But I am not dead. And I won’t sleep next to mop buckets while she lies in satin upstairs.”

She turned red, her lips pressing into a tight line.

Kaiser looked away.

And my sister sighed dramatically. “You always were dramatic,” she said sweetly. “You should really try therapy.”

I smiled at her, all teeth. “And you should really try not to be a bitch. But I suppose we can’t all be healed.”

Her nostrils flared.

Good.

She wanted me quiet, broken, grateful for scraps.

But I’d been in the Forbidden Forest. I’d fought beasts that didn’t bleed, heard screams that never ended. I’d clawed my way through night after night with nothing but vengeance and the memory of a home to pull me forward.

And now that I was home?

They were the ones who looked like ghosts.

“Fine,” my mother snapped. “Sleep where you like. But you better not mess this place up, these leathers are quite expensive and out of stock for now.”

I nodded slowly. And then I took a breath and smiled charmingly. "I've heard you, your majesty."