ADORA’S P.O.V

“Come on, my dear, I know how you're feeling right now…” The oldest maid said to me, bending down enough to grab my hands. Her palm moved towards my face as she wiped my tears that refused to stop flowing.

“He’s really going to marry me…” I whispered at first, but the words came out broken and angry. My chest tightened, and I could feel the anxiety crawling all over me like cold fingers. A painful knot formed in my throat. This wasn’t the life I had dreamed of. I had dreams, real dreams of traveling, finding love on my own terms. Not this. Not being forced into a stranger’s world.

My fingers trembled as I clutched the maid’s hands, holding them tightly and desperately. “Please,” I begged, my voice shaky and filled with fear. “Please tell me this isn’t happening. There has to be a way out. I can’t marry him. I can’t!”

Her hands felt cold and soft in mine, but she didn’t move. She didn’t even look me in the eye at first. Her lips trembled, her eyes glistened with tears that she fought so hard to hide.

“Get a hold of yourself,” she whispered, her voice shaking as though every word was painful to say. “You have to get married to him and avoid any further drama at all.” She swallowed hard, her eyes darting to the closed door as if she was afraid someone might hear us. “Life will balance for you, I’m sure of that.”

“Balance?” I repeated bitterly, my voice breaking. “You think marrying a monster is balance?” My heart thudded fast, my breathing uneven. “How can I live like this? I’ll never forgive him. I’ll never…”

Her grip tightened suddenly, and I felt her fingers trembling in mine. “Do you want to lose your life?” she asked in a choked whisper. “Do you want to lose the life of your loved one? Do you want my blood spilled on your sake?”

I froze, confusion and shock mixing in my chest. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice almost a whisper.

Her lips quivered. She took a shaky breath, and a tear finally escaped from the corner of her eye. “If you don’t get dressed and join him in the next five minutes,” she said softly, “I might lose my life too.”

My whole body went still. I stared at her, unable to believe what I’d just heard. She wasn’t lying, I could see it in her eyes. It was filled with fear. Fear that was deep.

Her eyes darted again to the door, then back at me. “He doesn’t tolerate disobedience,” she said in a trembling whisper. “The last maid who spoke out of turn… she never came back. Please,” she pleaded, her voice cracking, “don’t make him angry. Not today.”

I looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, I noticed the way her hands shook, the way her lips trembled every time she spoke his name. She was scared, trapped just like me. Only difference was, she had already given up.

My chest ached. Anger and fear battled inside me, twisting together until I could barely breathe. I wanted to scream, to fight, to tear that white gown apart. But her trembling face held me still. If I refused, it wasn’t just my life at risk. it was hers too.

Tears blurred my vision as I let go of her hands. “This isn’t fair,” I whispered, shaking my head. “None of this is fair.”

She nodded weakly, wiping at her eyes. “Nothing here is fair,” she said, her voice faint. “We just survive.”

The room fell silent except for the sound of my quiet sobs and her soft breathing. The white gown still lay waiting for me on the bed, glowing cruelly under the morning light.

I stared at it, my heart heavy, my body frozen. Every part of me screamed no, but the sound of her fearful voice echoed in my head ‘If you don’t get dressed and join him in the next five minutes, I might lose my life too.’

Her hands cupped my face so gently, yet there was a firmness in her touch that forced my eyes to meet hers. She wasn’t just doing her job; she was trying to save both of us.

I couldn’t cry out loud anymore. My throat ached, my lips quivered, but no sound came out. My life was at stake. My father’s life was at stake. And now… even the maid’s life hung in the balance because of me.

A heavy silence filled the room. The elderly maid finally turned her head toward the others and gave a slow nod. It wasn’t loud or harsh, just a small, tired motion of surrender. The other maids immediately understood the signal. They moved like shadows, their faces blank, their steps light and cautious, like they were walking on glass.

As they approached, I felt my body weaken. My knees trembled under me, and my hands fell limply to my sides. I had no strength left to resist. It was as if every bit of willpower had been drained from my veins. I wanted to scream, to run, to tear down the walls around me, but all I could do was stand there and let it happen.

One of the younger maids set down a small silver bucket filled with steaming water. The faint scent of rose oil filled the air, but it didn’t comfort me. it made me sick. Everything in this room was too perfect, too calm for what was happening to me. The thick white towel she held looked soft, yet it felt like a weapon meant to strip away my dignity.

Another maid walked closer and began undoing the straps of my wrinkled purple gown. My hands twitched, trying to stop her, but I froze when I remembered the older maid’s words. If you don’t get dressed and join him in the next five minutes, I might lose my life too.

My gown slipped down my shoulders and fell to the floor with a faint rustle. The cold air rushed over my exposed skin, biting at my body and sending chills through me. I shuddered, hugging myself tightly, but it didn’t help. I felt naked, not just physically, but emotionally.

A towel dabbed gently at my skin, wiping away dirt and tears together. I stood motionless, numb, letting them wash me like a broken doll. The water trickled down my legs, and I could hear the faint splashes hitting the bucket. Everything around me moved in slow motion, the brushes combing through my tangled hair, the soft murmurs of the maids working in silence, the rustling of fabrics being unfolded for me to wear.

Inside, my heart was breaking apart piece by piece. I could feel it, every beat, every tear. My swollen eyes kept releasing streams of tears I couldn’t stop. They just fell on their own, warm and endless.

My mind was spinning. Why me? I thought. Why would my father do this? Why did they choose me? I wanted answers, but there was no one to ask. No one dared speak. Even the elderly maid, whose touch had been kind, kept her head bowed now, avoiding my eyes as if my pain was too heavy for her to look at.

I felt trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. Every breath I took felt heavier than the last. My body stood there, obedient and quiet, but my spirit was screaming inside, clawing to be free.

As the maids worked, I could only pray for it to end, for the pain, the shame, the fear, to just stop. I prayed for something I’d never thought I would before… death.

Because at that moment, death felt kinder than the life I was being forced to live.