Bruised. Blood smeared across her temple. Lips cracked. Eyes hollow and empty, like all the light inside had been drained out.
I looked… ruined.
Like someone who had crawled out of a battlefield, barely alive.
And in a way… I had.
Two hours ago…
I had been standing in front of the same mirror, twirling slowly, forcing myself to smile.
The royal blue dress clung perfectly to my body, hugging every curve. The color made my dark hair look richer, softer. It was elegant. Beautiful.
Catarina's favorite color.
For a brief second, I almost believed I looked… worthy. Acceptable. Good enough to sit at the table when the family gathered, good enough that no one would whisper about why the Acting Boss kept a wife he never touched in a house she wasn't welcome in.
Thud!
The impact came out of nowhere.
Pain exploded across my skull, sharp and blinding, and my vision went white for a split second. My body staggered backward, and I slammed hard into the dresser behind me, the force knocking the air out of my lungs.
A crash echoed through the room. Somewhere down the corridor, a soldier posted outside the east wing would have heard it. None of them would come. They never did.