“Maybe we should switch it up? She’s not making a peep,” a voice suggested, but I was too focused on the whip lashing my back to pay it any mind.
“Enough of this. Grab the spiked whip,” another voice commanded, sounding bored.
I swallowed hard, trying to brace myself for the pain that was about to come. The sick feeling in my stomach made it hard to even breathe.
I stared at the wall in front of me, determined not to let them see me cry. Not again.
“Let’s see if you can keep quiet this time,” the voice taunted from behind me.
I kept my head down, my dark brown hair falling around my face. The blood that had trickled from my forehead earlier was now dried, my hair sticking to it.
The sound of metal spikes scraping against the concrete floor made me bite my already dry lip.
Stay strong, I told myself. I had no intention of showing them how much they were hurting me. I’d never let them see my weakness before, and I wasn’t about to start now.
The pain was coming back.
My lip throbbed from biting it so much. The metallic taste in my mouth made my stomach churn. How long were they planning to keep me like this?
The burning sensation spread across my back. My vision started to blur. I muttered a curse under my breath. Just stay awake. The blood loss was making it hard to keep my eyes open.
“That’s enough,” a male voice finally said, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Lock her in her room. Only water, no food.”
When they unlocked the chains, I collapsed onto my knees. The floor was slick with blood. My hands were shaking.
My eyes stung as I fought back tears. I couldn’t let them see me cry. Not here.
A scream tore from my throat as my hair was yanked. I tried to fight back, but I was too weak. Why was I so weak?
The sound of keys jingling filled the room, and then a door was thrown open. I was tossed inside, my face hitting the cold concrete floor. I groaned in pain, trying to lift myself up, but a sharp pain in my ribs made me gasp for air.
“Bitch,” the man growled, kicking me again. I coughed, struggling for breath as I crawled away. Panting heavily, I let myself collapse onto the ground.
The man scoffed and slammed the door shut. Alone at last, I let the tears fall. Sobs wracked my body as I wondered why this was happening to me.
Have you ever wondered why life can be so unfair? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why did I, a girl whose only crime was being born, have to endure this kind of pain?
Being born was my only sin. I was cursed from the moment I came into this world, and that curse would follow me until the day I died. I had a family, or at least, they called themselves my family. But they were just pretending.
I was the unlucky one. A girl who was cursed because of a mistake my so-called father made. Was it my fault? No. But I was the one who had to pay for his mistakes.
After I’d calmed down a bit, I slowly got up. My torn dress barely clung to my thin frame. I took it off and made my way to the bathroom.
Each step was a struggle, but I finally reached the light switch. I turned it on and closed my eyes against the harsh yellow light.
I shuffled over to the cracked mirror. I gasped and looked away. I looked terrible.
“This is nothing,” I mumbled, forcing myself to look at my reflection.
My body was covered in bruises, blood, and scars. Most of them were on my chest, legs, and back. A few were visible on my arms, and one scar marred my face, right near my neck.
Yes, my neck. The scar was a reminder of the time my sister tried to kill me.
I turned on the faucet and splashed some water onto my shaking hands. Taking a deep breath, I let the water fall onto my back. I yelped as the cold water stung my skin.
I looked at myself in the mirror and nodded. I needed to clean my wounds. Then I could tend to them.
I made my way to the shower, turning on the faucet. The cold water hit my skin, making me cry out. The pain was unbearable, but I had to endure it. This wasn’t the first time.
I covered my mouth to muffle my sobs.
“Why me?” I asked between sobs.
I flinched and took a deep breath. I still had to clean the large bruise on my back. I focused on my wounds, but then there was a knock on the bedroom door.
I tensed up, thinking it might be someone from my family. Were they coming back to punish me?
“C-come in,” I stuttered, gripping the bedsheets tightly. Who could it be?
The door opened, revealing a figure with black hair.
“Mayah?” I asked uncertainly.
“Hey,” the girl in the maid’s uniform said, stepping into the room quietly.
“Why are you here?” I asked, worried she might get punished like last time. “You should go!”
“No, my lady, I won’t,” Mayah said, smiling warmly. It made my chest ache.
“But you could get punished, please,” I pleaded with her.
Mayah was a palace maid, and I was a princess. Not the beloved kind, but the kind everyone despised. The city folk didn’t know the real story. They didn’t see the youngest princess being tormented.
Mayah was the only servant who came to my aid. She was older than me and cared for me. She was the only one who showed me kindness.
“Come here, let me help,” Mayah said, reaching for the small emergency kit where I kept some medicine.
Her gasp told me that these bruises were worse than the last ones. I sighed, letting her tend to my wounds. A few minutes later, Mayah was done.
“All patched up,” Mayah said as she closed the kit. “Rest, I’ll bring you something to eat.”
I gave her a small thank you and a warm smile, and Mayah left.
I looked around my room. Gray walls and drapes hung from the ceiling, decorating my gray bedroom. Even though I was a princess, I barely had furniture.
The only things I had were a white wooden closet, a vanity table, my poster bed, and a night table. My room was cold, dark, and lonely.
My cruel father, King Azar of the Pallatine Empire, made a huge mistake. He betrayed a witch.
Witches, warlocks, seekers, and other creatures lived in the Pallatine Empire. And we were the only empire ever to betray a witch.
What my father, King Azar, didn’t realize was that the witch he betrayed would seek revenge, and she did. She killed two of his sons, a queen, and she cursed me, who was barely a baby.
Leaving him with an older daughter and a cursed baby.
I always wondered why. I was barely a baby. Because of that, my mother took her own life.
Now because of that, every time my father, the king, got angry, he would take it out on me. Not only him but everyone.
Here in the palace, I was known as the cursed one. No one approached me, and no one talked to me. I had no friends, no one. Lonely nights and bloody tears were my only companions.
Despite that, I smiled. Because all this time, I had never shown my weakness or my tears to them. Every punishment, every torture, every poisonous word, I never showed weakness in front of them.
Because I was determined to escape this place no matter what. I had only two more years left to live, and no matter what, I would at least achieve the freedom that I was sure of.
The next day, I woke up to my usual routine. I opened the windows, took a bath, changed into my ragged clothes, and read books.
My father didn’t allow me to leave this room. It was my prison. I was locked away from the rest of the world. The only time I could go out was when the entire royal family had to be present.
Looking out the window, I gazed up at the blue skies. The bright sun shone down through the window. Birds chirped as the wind gently blew—a perfect spring day.
Then, with a sad smile, I looked past the castle’s walls. I always wondered what was beyond those. Was it beautiful? Were there amazing and beautiful fields of roses? The food, the people, how were they?
Looking back at the book in my hands, I smiled. All I ever dreamed of was a fantasy. The only places I could go were through the stories I read. Sighing, I looked back outside.
My bedroom was on the east wing of the castle. It was a place few visited.
Leaning my head on the window frame, I sighed. My wounds still ached. It was less than yesterday, but every little movement made me wince.
As I thought about my miserable life, a soft knock made me look at the door.
“Who is it?” I called.
Suddenly, the bedroom door opened and in walked the head maid. I closed my book and sat up, frightened.
She looked me up and down, then scoffed. I lowered my head, clutching the book in my hands.
“Your presence is required,” the head maid announced. I looked up, surprised. I saw several other maids walking in with clothes and shoes.
“NOW!” the head maid yelled, making me cringe. Nodding quickly, I stood up as I set the book down on the vanity table.
The maids grabbed my arm and undressed me. I winced at every touch and turn. My wounds throbbed as they started cleaning my body and helped me get dressed.
I was curious to know why I was requested, but it was best to keep my mouth shut.
“Turn around,” the head maid said. I turned slowly, but she pushed me to turn around faster.
Biting my lip, I prepared myself mentally. As she squeezed me into a corset, I inhaled and kept my gaze in the mirror right in front of me. My back wounds throbbed as she kept tightening the corset.
A single tear slid down my face. Swallowing the pain, I kept my head high.
Once she was done, and all the maids had given me the final touches, I stared at myself in the mirror.
I was wearing a long ruffled blue dress that made my eyes look bluer. The corset accentuated my thin body, giving me a tiny waist, a more voluptuous chest, and thicker thighs.
The maids gave me a high ponytail, and they kept my makeup simple. My freckles were still visible even though they added powder. They put on some simple golden earrings.
Once they finished, the head maid asked everyone to leave the room.
Nervously, I toyed with my hands.
“The king has summoned you. You alone. We’ll explain why once we’re there. Is that understood?” the head maid asked, her gaze stern as she looked down at me.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, my head bowed.
“Good. Let’s go,” she said, opening the door for me to step through.
I trailed behind the head maid, my gaze fixed on the floor. As we passed, people stared, their curiosity piqued. They all knew of me, but few had actually seen me.
“Is that her?”
“Yes, that’s the cursed one.”
“I’ve never seen her before.”
“Just a cursed woman.”
“She’s so ugly.”
“Despicable.”
“The king can’t stand her.”
“Why hasn’t he killed her yet?”
Their whispers followed me, their curious eyes making me feel like a cornered rat.
I forced a smirk, trying to find humor in their cruel words. I couldn’t let them hurt me. I wasn’t some fragile girl.
I was just an innocent caught up in all of this. All because of my father.
I stopped, lifting my gaze to meet the stern faces of two towering guards. Neither of them acknowledged me. Standing tall, I swallowed the lump of pain in my throat.
“Remember your manners if you don’t want to be punished,” the head maid whispered in my ear.
I nodded obediently as the doors to the throne room swung open. The sound of voices and laughter spilled into the hallway. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside, gathering my dress and walking towards the center of the room.
The grand throne room was adorned with white and gold walls, golden gargoyles perched high above. A red carpet stretched across the middle of the floor.
Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their light bouncing off the white marble floor.
As I entered, the room fell silent. Every eye was on me, their gazes predatory.
At least a dozen men sat on ornate wooden chairs, each with a cup of wine and a plate of food at their side.
The old men stared at me. Some with disgust, others with a predatory smirk, and some with pure hatred, like my father, who sat on his golden throne.
“Glory be to the king of the Pallatine Empire,” I said, bowing my head in respect.
“You may raise your head,” my father, King Azar, commanded. I did as he asked, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes, so much like my own, were filled with disgust. Why did he despise me so?
“So this is your other daughter?” a man’s voice echoed through the room.
“I heard she was hideous, but she’s quite beautiful,” another voice chimed in.
“Pity about those scars,” the first man added.
I kept my gaze fixed on my father, my face void of emotion. His eyes never left mine, as if trying to bore a hole through me.
“Enough,” my father commanded, resting his head on his clenched fist, a clear sign of his simmering anger. “Princess, you have been summoned because we have news for you.”
I frowned slightly. What news could he possibly have?
“We have a pressing matter to discuss, and you are the chosen one,” my father said, his frown mirroring my own. I was so confused that I found myself staring at the floor.
In my confusion, I blurted out, “What matter are you referring to?”
Realizing too late that I had spoken out of turn, I quickly bowed my head. Fear crept in as I knew I would be punished for my insolence.
“The matter of your marriage!” my father snapped, his face contorted in anger. I glanced up through my lashes to see him gripping the armrest of his throne. “You are to be married off.”
The room fell silent. I waited for my father to continue, my fingers digging into my palms as I replayed his words in my head. Was he marrying me off? Was I to be wed?
“Just tell her already,” a man’s voice grumbled. I glanced in his direction, recognizing him instantly, and quickly averted my gaze.
“Asshole,” I muttered under my breath.
I hadn’t noticed earlier, but my uncle was seated at the front. He was my late mother’s brother and he blamed me for her death.
“Princess of the Pallatine Empire, you are to be married to the king of the Etuicia Empire. King Maximus Joric Perica.”
I jerked my head up.
“W-what?” I stammered in disbelief. Was I to be wed to the king of the Etuicia Empire? But they were our enemies.
“Starting tomorrow, you will no longer belong to this empire. You are to prepare to be taken to the Etuicia Empire,” my father declared. “Everyone, leave.”
Stunned, I remained rooted to the spot. I tried to speak, but no words would come. I brought a trembling hand to my mouth, only to see a shadow looming over me.
Startled, I looked up. My father, King Azar, towered over me. His tall, imposing figure made me feel even smaller.
He slapped me, and I crumpled to my knees.
“Who told you to open your mouth?” my father snapped, his eyes burning into mine. I touched my stinging cheek, the metallic taste in my mouth a harsh reminder of my injury.
“You’re one lucky bitch. If you weren’t being shipped off to the Etuicia Empire tomorrow, I’d have slapped you senseless.”
Tears welled up in my eyes.
“Thank god you’re finally leaving. Make sure you take all your crap with you. Although, what do you even have?” he sneered, spitting in my face. I recoiled.
Wiping his spit off with my hand, I looked up at him. His eyes widened in surprise.
“I’m thrilled to be fucking leaving you, you worthless piece of shit!” I spat back.
“What did you just call me?” he growled, yanking my hair and making me scream. “Say it again!”
Summoning my courage, I spat in his face. He grunted in anger and kicked me. I gasped, clutching my stomach.
“You’re the worthless piece of shit who should never have been born. Just get out,” he spat, releasing my hair.
Scrambling to my feet, I let the tears fall. I turned my back on him and walked out of the room.
I ran to my bedroom, the distance seeming to stretch on forever. I locked the door behind me and slid down against it, sobbing. I was releasing years of pent-up pain.
In a fit of anger, I let my hair down and stripped off my clothes. My wounds were numb from the tight corset. I saw blood dripping onto the floor as I looked at my back.
I grabbed the emergency box with the medicine and opened it. My hands shook as I tried to bandage the bleeding wounds, but my tears made it difficult.
Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I slammed my fist into the mirror, shattering it.
As my anger subsided, I began to calm down.
“Princess?” Mayah’s gentle voice came from the other side of the door.
“Go away!” I snapped. I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone.
I waited for her to disobey me, staying in the bathroom with my hands gripping the sink.
“This is your freedom,” I whispered to my reflection in the broken mirror. “This is your chance.”
The next morning, the head maid and a few other servants came to help me dress in a green gown. I gathered the few belongings I had and walked out.
I took one last look at the room that had been my prison for the past eighteen years and whispered a goodbye.
A brown carriage bearing the empire’s insignia was waiting for me. Two white horses and a pair of coachmen helped me load my small luggage into the carriage.
I climbed into the carriage and looked back. No one had come out to see me off. With a sad smile, I closed the window curtain.
The carriage jolted into motion at the coachman’s command. The horses whinnied as they started to move.
I sighed and rested my head on the soft pillow. “At least he gave me a decent carriage,” I murmured to myself.
Bored, I opened the window curtain. The day was as gloomy as my mood. I sighed again and rested my chin on my hand.
“You’re finally free,” I told myself, “free from his torment.”
I was Amari, princess of the Pallatine Empire. The cursed girl. The curse was given to me at birth, a curse that would claim my life when I turned twenty. A curse I would carry to my grave. But it was my burden to bear—my cross to carry.
