In the lake pavilion, I danced on a jade platform, every step agony. The Crimson Swan demanded grace, so I gritted my teeth, forcing fluidity through the pain.
Sylvia lounged in Adrian's arms by the shore, her eyes gleaming. "She dances so beautifully!"
This dance was for him, once. I'd practiced for months to surprise him on his birthday. Now it was for her.
On the final spin, my foot slipped. I plunged into the icy lake, water swallowing me. Gasping, I broke the surface, seeing Adrian leap up, panic in his eyes. "Isabella!"
But Sylvia's maid shrieked, "Adrian! Sylvia's choking on a fishbone!"
He froze, glancing at me, then at Sylvia coughing in the pavilion. That moment of hesitation gutted me worse than any whip.
"Get a healer!" he barked, rushing to Sylvia, scooping her up, and vanishing down the corridor.
The cold water dragged me down, the light fading. In my mind, I saw Adrian in Joravia Town, riding up in white, offering his hand. "Come to Belmor Town with me, Isabella. I'll keep you safe forever."
"Lady Isabella!"
I gasped awake, choking on air. Ruby knelt by my bed, tears streaming. I was in my room, alone.
"Who. saved me?" I croaked.
"Martha from the kitchen saw you fall. She and some maids pulled you out."
I gave a bitter laugh. Stone Manor's lady, saved by servants while my mate ran to another.
Days passed in a haze of pain and gossip. "Adrian burned his hand making Sylvia's medicine." "He rode at dawn to get her favorite cake." "He's crafting her golden armor, like she's his treasure."
Each rumor was a dagger. I remembered when I was sick, and he wouldn't leave my side, tasting my medicine first. "If anything happened to you, Isabella, I'd die too," he'd said. Now, I nearly drowned, and he didn't even check on me.
Sylvia burst in one day. "It's market day. Come see how ten cents can stretch."
She dragged me to the bustling market, picking through rotten vegetables. "How much did you used to spend on supplies?"
"Five hundred silver," I said.
"Five hundred?!" she shrieked, drawing stares. "That could feed the poor for years! You leeches ruin the pack!"
She ranted, then pointed at the moldy rice and wilted greens. "This is what we'll eat for months."
I picked up a bug-ridden leaf. "Really? Then why do you get fresh millet porridge and new cotton clothes every day? You preach against wealth but live better than us."
Her face flushed with fury, but a commotion cut her off. An old woman was sobbing, held by a shopkeeper. "My pup's waiting for dinner! Please, let me go!"
"You broke three jars of ten-year wine!" he roared. "Ten silver, now!"
Sylvia charged over. "How heartless are you? Her pup needs her!"
The shopkeeper scoffed. "Pay for her, then!"
Sylvia hesitated, then slapped a few coins on the counter. "Here!"
He laughed. "Ten silver, and you give me pennies? Pay up, or I'm calling the enforcers!"
Sylvia, flustered, glanced at a brothel across the street, then at me. "Go work there for a few days. Earn the silver for her."
