Court Of Shadows and Lies

3. A Woman's Resolve

As soon as I reached my room, the floodgates opened. I vomited everything I had eaten, the bitterness rising in my throat like my anger. I stumbled back, collapsing against the cool stone wall, my heart racing. The taste of bile mingled with the remnants of my meal, a bitter reminder of the disgust I felt for my father’s plans.

What does he think of me? Just a pawn in his game?

The thought twisted my gut even more. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, a rush of anger and frustration coursing through me.

“I won’t let him control me,” I spat into the empty room, my voice sharp and defiant. The walls seemed to absorb my words, but I didn’t care. I was done being compliant, done pretending that this was how my life was meant to unfold. I didn’t want to marry anyone.

I paced the floor, my mind racing with visions of a future I refused to accept. I don’t want to be someone’s wife whose only purpose is to bear children and suffer in silence while her husband takes all the credit for our beautiful offspring. The very idea sickened me.

I could see it clearly: a life spent in service to another’s ambitions, my own desires smothered beneath the weight of expectation. The image of my mother’s resignation flashed through my mind, her sacrifices suffocating her spirit, and I refused to follow in her footsteps.

Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through my chamber door, followed by a familiar, sharp voice.

"Open the door."

Meliora.

I sighed, my patience already wearing thin from the conversation with Father. Nonetheless, I walked over and opened the door. She stood there, her face twisted in fury, eyes blazing with anger.

"How dare you bring my name into that trashy marriage proposal, Cessalie?" she hissed, stepping into my room as if she owned it.

I crossed my arms, unimpressed. "Oh please, Meliora. I didn’t bring you into anything. I’m not the one trying to throw someone else under the bus for the sake of appearances."

Her eyes narrowed, her fury barely contained. "Don't you dare turn this on me. You're just as pathetic, whining about the idea of marriage when it's a privilege to even be considered by Duke Davian."

I raised an eyebrow. "A privilege? Meliora, the only thing you’ve ever cared about is staying in Father’s good graces so you can continue basking in the luxury of being his favorite." I took a step closer, my voice low but sharp. "You’ve never lifted a finger to help this family or fought for anything in your life. You just stand there, smiling, playing the perfect daughter while you leech off his wealth and power."

Her nostrils flared. "And what, you think you’re better than me?" she spat, venom dripping from her voice.

"At least I don't pretend to be something I'm not." I met her glare with one of my own. "You don’t do anything useful around here, Meliora. You live in luxury just because you can do some shitty lame magic. You don’t take responsibility for any of the house’s affairs, you don’t care about anyone but yourself. So why don’t you just marry Duke Davian yourself, if you’re so eager to secure our family's position?" I stepped back, smirking. "It’d give you even more status, more wealth to flaunt. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?"

Her lips trembled with rage, but she stayed silent.

"But no," I continued, leaning against the doorframe, "you won’t do it because you’re terrified of leaving. You love playing the obedient daughter, playing Father’s favorite. It’s the only thing you know how to do."

"You’re just bitter," she sneered. "Bitter because Father trusts me and Rylan more than you. You’re nothing more than a tool to him."

I chuckled darkly, shaking my head. "Oh, I know exactly what I am to him. But at least I’m not selling my soul to be his puppet. I refuse to marry a stranger for power, for titles, for a name that means nothing to me. You might be comfortable with that kind of life, but I won’t be like you."