My husband's long-lost love was finally getting married. To make her regret leaving him, he abandoned Blackwood Manor and me, volunteering to serve in the desolate Frostbourne Marches. I wrote ninety-nine letters, each sent with a flicker of hope, but not a single reply ever came. By the third year, I had stopped writing. I was on my daybed, elegantly sipping the rich, restorative swallow's nest soup sent from the royal kitchens, when the door creaked open. Then, suddenly, General Godfrey returned. His gaze, cold and hard as flint, landed on my six-month pregnant belly. His teeth clenched, the sound almost audible. "Three years of marriage, Evelyn, and you never once thought to visit me at the border. Whose child is that you're carrying?" I merely shrugged, a faint, almost dismissive smile playing on my lips. "If you refuse to treat your wife with proper regard, Godfrey, then surely someone else will step up to the task, won't they?" … Godfrey's hand shot out, a blur of motion, yanking me roughly from the daybed. His eyes, usually a steely blue, were now hawk-like, brimming with a chilling, murderous intent. "You harlot! I leave for a mere three years, and you can't even contain your wanton desires? You dared to get yourself pregnant!" His voice rose to a furious roar. "Tell me now, who is the scoundrel? The father of this bastard child?!" The delicate porcelain bowl of swallow's nest soup slipped from my trembling fingers, shattering on the polished stone floor with a sharp, sickening crack. Just then, Lady Beatrice, Godfrey’s mother, rushed into the room, her eyes widening in horror at the sight of Godfrey’s iron grip on my arm. "Godfrey, stop! Don't touch her! She's carrying..." Her words were cut short by Godfrey’s enraged bellow, echoing through the manor. "Evelyn! I'm asking you a question!" My eardrums throbbed with the sheer volume, and a slow, simmering rage began to boil within me. I yanked my arm free, my voice tight with indignation. "You abandoned me for three whole years, Godfrey! You left me with a crumbling estate, bleeding money, and vanished without a trace! According to the old statutes of abandonment, a husband who forsakes his home for a year without cause allows for annulment. You and I are no longer bound as husband and wife!" Godfrey's face flushed a mottled crimson, his anger a visible, suffocating cloud around him. Without another word, he seized my arm again, dragging me relentlessly towards the door. "You dare to lie, you adulteress? You dare to accuse me after defiling my name? I'll drag you into the streets right now and let the good people of Aethelburg see what kind of depraved woman you truly are!" Weakened by my pregnancy, I was no match for his strength. I struggled, but it was futile. Lady Beatrice, her eyes welling with tears, rushed forward, trying to block our path. "Son, please, listen to your mother! Let go of Evelyn, immediately..." But her plea only seemed to fuel Godfrey's fury. He roared, his hand lashing out in a brutal, open-handed slap across my face. My head snapped back, a sharp sting exploding across my cheek, and the coppery taste of blood instantly filled my mouth. His voice, thick with menace, thundered in my ears. "You’d even corrupt my own mother? Force her to defend your debauchery in her old age? Today, I will personally deal with you, you wretched creature!" Lady Beatrice froze, her body rigid with terror, not daring to take another step. She feared that her continued intervention would only incite Godfrey to greater violence, and if the child were harmed, how would she ever forgive herself, or him? I was dragged, raw and bleeding, to the grand gates of Blackwood Manor. There, standing poised and pristine in a gown of pure white, was the woman Godfrey had pined for: Aveline. Three years ago, when Godfrey had left, she too had vanished without a trace. Now, it was chillingly clear where she had been – playing the devoted wife at the border. Seeing my humiliated state, Aveline couldn't suppress a mocking snicker, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. "Well, isn't this convenient? You've proven yourself so utterly depraved, Evelyn. It seems I won't have to lift a finger to make my case." Before I could utter a single word, Godfrey shoved me forward, directly into the gawking crowd of townspeople. He bellowed, his voice carrying far and wide, "Evelyn! I acknowledge you guarded this manor for three years. So, I'll offer you a choice: humble yourself, become a mistress, and yield your place as Lady of Blackwood Manor to Aveline. I will grant you a corner to live out your days!" His eyes gleamed with a chilling satisfaction. "Otherwise..." Godfrey sneered, a cold, ruthless smile stretching his lips, and drew the heavy, battle-scarred sword from his scabbard. "Otherwise, I will cut down this harlot right here, right now!" His words struck me with a bitter, hollow irony. I remembered his parting promise, three years ago – that upon his return, with military honors, he would help my mother secure justice. That promise, a flimsy thread of hope, was why I had endured the snickers and whispers of Aethelburg, why I had poured my entire dowry into propping up Blackwood Manor. Yet, my mother had wasted away, tormented by my father’s mistress, and he had never returned. No wonder he hadn't immediately executed me in the house; he feared public backlash. He wanted me to yield my position myself. The servants and townspeople buzzed with gossip. "I knew it! The General hasn't been home in years, how could the Lady be with child?" "And Lady Beatrice has been caring for her so diligently, I almost thought—" "Enough!" Lady Beatrice, unable to bear it any longer, suddenly burst through the crowd. She rushed to my side, supporting me, her brow furrowed in a fierce scowl directed at Aveline. "I know whose child Evelyn carries, better than anyone! And this child is no bastard!" Godfrey looked at his mother, baffled. "Mother, this harlot never sought me out at the border! How could it possibly be my child?" Lady Beatrice stood firm, her voice ringing with conviction. "This child is legitimate! Anyone who dares to utter another word will face the stocks!" Aveline clutched Godfrey’s sleeve, her voice trembling with feigned sobs. "Oh, Godfrey, surely your mother has been deceived! What mother would condone her daughter-in-law's infidelity? I heard whispers of certain potions, substances that control minds... Lady Beatrice's face looks so much paler than before. Could it be...?" Godfrey’s hands clenched into fists, his rage suddenly redirected. He spun, pulling his sword again. "Evelyn, you seek death!" I retorted, my voice hoarse, "Lady Beatrice is frail and pale, Godfrey, because of you! How could you not know the anguish your own mother suffered, son, when you vanished for three years without a single word?" Godfrey was about to speak, when Aveline suddenly shoved me with surprising force. "You venomous hag! How dare you slander Godfrey, your own husband?!" A searing pain exploded at the back of my head. My vision instantly blurred, swimming with black spots. The heavy iron door-studs of the manor gate gouged a deep wound into my scalp, leaving a dark, rapidly spreading stain of blood on the stone. My strength evaporated, and I collapsed to the ground, a sharp, twisting pain erupting in my lower abdomen. Lady Beatrice let out a piercing shriek. "Call for the Royal Physician, quickly!" Several maids and retainers moved to obey, but Godfrey's guards immediately blocked their path. Seeing this, Lady Beatrice bellowed, "Are you truly defying your own mother's command now, Godfrey?!" Aveline sneered, utterly merciless. "The Royal Physician attends only to the nobility within the palace walls! Do you truly believe a harlot like this could ever command such a presence?" Godfrey's voice was low and dangerous. "Guards! Protect my mother! Do not let her be swayed by this villainess's deceit!" At his words, a burly soldier, easily eight feet tall, seized Lady Beatrice. She stared at him, incredulous. "I am your mother!" She struggled, twisting against his grip, but the soldier simply twisted her arm, forcing it back. Lady Beatrice cried out in agony, but Godfrey remained unmoved, his face a mask of cold indifference. "Godfrey, have you gone mad?!" I cried out, struggling to push myself up, my hands protectively cupped over my belly. "If you don't want to die, then release us immediately! This child... this child is not one you can afford to harm!" Godfrey said nothing. He simply drew a long, vicious-looking whip from his belt. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he brought it down, the air whistling with the brutal force of it. A searing, fiery pain exploded across my knees. I crashed heavily to the ground, the raw wounds on my knees instantly grinding into the dirty cobblestones, the pain biting deep into my very bones. Godfrey’s voice rang out, clear and resonant. "Such a wanton woman in Blackwood Manor! I, Godfrey, must impose the strictest family law!" He smirked, his eyes devoid of mercy. "Evelyn, don't say I didn't give you a chance. If you refuse to cast out this bastard, then I will do it myself!" I ignored the fresh blood soaking my knees, my only thought to protect my child. "What are you doing...?" Godfrey advanced, step by deliberate step. "The whip, of course! A hundred lashes for your infidelity, for your poisoning of my mother's mind! Today, I will make an example of you before everyone!" My breath hitched in my throat. My eyes instinctively darted to the brutal length of the whip in his hand. That whip had ridden with Godfrey into countless battles; it was stained with the blood of countless enemies. A single strike could mean my death. What then of the child within me? Amidst the jeers and calls for punishment from the crowd, Godfrey raised the whip again. It descended with terrifying speed. I could only curl inward, protecting my belly with my arms, squeezing my eyes shut. The pain, however, never came. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes. A Shadow Guard stood directly in front of me, his hand clamped firmly around the whip, halting its deadly descent. "General," the Shadow Guard said, his voice calm, "Lady Evelyn is in a delicate state. You cannot harm her. I urge you to reconsider." It was the first time anyone had dared to defy Godfrey, to intercept his wrath. His eyes narrowed, sizing up the guard. "Who are you? What business is it of yours to interfere with how I discipline my wife?" The Shadow Guard remained unyielding. "If the General wishes to know the full truth, he must first move this conversation elsewhere—" The next second, Godfrey sneered, yanking his whip free and lashing out at the Shadow Guard. "I'd like to see who dares to covet what belongs to my General!" The Shadow Guard reacted too slowly. The whip tore across half his face, ripping skin and flesh apart. He crumpled to the ground, unmoving. The more timid onlookers shrieked in unison. Lady Beatrice, witnessing the brutality, fainted dead away and was immediately carried off, placed under strict supervision. There was truly no one left to save me. My face went ashen, drained of all color. Godfrey, meanwhile, had murder in his eyes. "Evelyn, I thought you'd ensnared some powerful figure, but it's only a pathetic, disgraced guard who dares to tempt you into betraying me?" At this point, I no longer cared for appearances or consequences. "This child is... is—" My words were swallowed by a blinding flash of pain as the whip, whistling through the air, struck my abdomen.
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