Chapter 22
Ella's POV
Ruby pushed open the door to the servants' quarters, carrying a tray as she entered.
She must have guessed I'd been brought back. The tray held a cup of hot tea, as if specially prepared to comfort me.
"Ella." She sat down on the edge of the bed, handing me the teacup. "Drink something hot. You look terrible."
I took the cup, the warmth making my nose sting. Ruby asked nothing, just sat quietly beside me.
"Last time you risked your life to save the Crown Prince, I thought..." She paused, smiling bitterly. "I thought you'd have a different fate. Who knew things would turn out this way."
"Yes, who knew." I repeated in a hollow voice.
Facing the only person close to me in this West Wing manor, I finally didn't have to hold myself together.
Everything from these past days poured out like a breaking dam—how Victoria had transformed into a wolf intent on killing me, how Kane had shielded me from the fatal blow in that sea of flames, how Julian had used me as a bargaining chip.
Ruby listened, her eyes gradually reddening.
She wanted to say something comforting, but in the end only gripped my hand tighter.
"At least... at least you're still alive," she choked out.
I wanted to laugh, but found I'd forgotten how.
Just then, I noticed Ruby wearing an oddly out-of-place felt hat. The dark brim was pulled low, nearly covering half her face.
In this stuffy room, the hat seemed particularly strange.
"Ruby, why are you wearing a hat?" I frowned.
Her body visibly stiffened, her hand instinctively pressing the brim down.
"It's nothing, just... just thought it looked nice." Her voice carried a hint of panic, her gaze evasive.
Alarm bells rang in my mind. Ruby had never been one to care about appearance, and certainly wouldn't wear a hat indoors. I reached for the hat; she hastily dodged.
"Ella, don't—"
But I was faster. I yanked the felt hat off.
The next second, I gasped.
Ruby's scalp bore a horrifying wound. Skin had been torn away, revealing the raw, bloody tissue beneath, the edges marked with purplish-black burns, as if scorched by something. The wound had scabbed over, but still looked grotesque.
"What... what happened?" My voice trembled.
Ruby lowered her head, tears falling to the floor.
"That day... that day I was serving Miss Victoria and Lord Kane at dinner." Her voice was soft, carrying suppressed fear. "Before Lord Kane left, he just... just casually patted my head, saying I'd done well today."
She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Miss Victoria's expression changed immediately. After Lord Kane left, she said I was seducing him, had people hold me down, and personally... personally tore off my scalp."
My hands began to shake. Those purplish-black burn marks—I knew them too well.
They were the marks left by Victoria's strange flames.
"She burned you with fire?"
Ruby nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks. "She said it was a lesson for me. To remember never to covet things I shouldn't."
Rage burned in my chest, only to die out helplessly.
What could I do? I couldn't even protect myself...
"We need to be more careful." I gripped her hand, my voice hoarse. "In this West Wing manor, one wrong step could cost us our lives."
Ruby wiped away her tears and pulled out a small cloth bundle from her pocket.
"You haven't eaten today, have you? I secretly brought you some butter cookies." She unwrapped the bundle, revealing several golden cookies still warm.
I took one and put it in my mouth.
The sweet butter melted on my tongue, yet couldn't mask the bitterness in my heart.
The next day, Kane came to my room again.
I was sorting herbs, not looking up at the sound of footsteps. He stood in the doorway for a while, then walked in and sat across from me.
"Ella." His voice carried a tentative quality.
I continued sorting herbs without responding.
"Can we talk?"
"There's nothing to talk about." My voice was terrifyingly calm.
Silence spread through the room.
I could feel his gaze on me, burning hot as if trying to penetrate my coldness, searching for that girl who once cried for him, laughed for him.
But that girl was dead.
He seemed to realize this too. I saw his hands clench and unclench on his knees, his throat working several times as if wanting to say something but not knowing where to start.
Finally, he spoke: "Remember in Blood River, when we had no food and would sneak to the frozen lake to catch fish, then roast them?"
My hands paused.
Those scenes flooded my mind unbidden—cold winter nights, him teaching me how to cut holes in the ice, how to catch fish with crude tools. We'd huddle around a secretly built fire, watching the fish sizzle over the flames, releasing their enticing aroma. Back then he'd give me the best-cooked piece, would drape his coat over me when I shivered from cold. Back then, we only had each other.
"I want to eat roasted fish." I heard myself say, my voice distant.
Not because I truly wanted it, but to mourn those days I'd thought would last forever.
Kane's eyes lit up, like glimpsing light in darkness.
"Alright, I'll have the kitchen prepare some."
He called a servant to the door and gave instructions. The servant hurried off, and he sat back down across from me.
After a long silence, his voice dropped so low I could barely hear: "Ella, those days... can we really never go back?"
His voice held a bitterness I didn't understand, and a trace of almost humble hope.
I didn't answer, just continued sorting herbs with lowered head.
He watched me quietly, as if waiting for an answer that would never come.
Soon after, footsteps sounded in the corridor along with a respectful voice: "Lord Kane, the roasted fish is ready."
Kane had just started to rise when another voice cut through the corridor.
"Who is this for?" Victoria's sharp voice rang out.
"Miss, this is what Lord Kane ordered for—"
"For that bitch?" Victoria laughed coldly. "Let me see what's so special about this fish."
Then came a loud crash.
Kane and I both stepped out of the room to see the roasted fish shattered on the floor, meat scattered everywhere, oil splattered across the ground.
Victoria stood to the side, looking down at the wreckage.
"Oops, it slipped."
She said it affectedly, mockery curling her lips.
I stood frozen in the doorway.
"What are you looking at?" Victoria turned to me, dangerous light flashing in her eyes. "A slave thinks she deserves such fine food? You should thank me for saving you from indigestion."
I clenched my jaw, unable to speak a word.
"Oh, right." Victoria suddenly seemed to remember something, her tone turning cheerful. "Lady Stella has summoned us. Kane, let's go."
Kane stood beside me. I could feel his body tense, his fists clenched white.
Our gazes met in the air, but he said nothing, just turned and followed Victoria away.