One Piece (Love Story) [Part Two]

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy Five [Rewritten]

-Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Five-

-Skylar's P.O.V-

I was in a daze as I liked there, ignoring the sound of rustling fabric and zombies rushing past as they hurriedly prepared to get the wedding started. There was a hazy look in my eyes as the voices returned...

Another person knew who my father was...of course, just my luck...

"A mistress of your status."

Those words.

I didn't like how he said them or the bitter taste they left in my mouth as it reminded me of just how awful marriage was when it came to noble families. I felt my jaw clench as I thought about Zach—thought about the words he had spoken and how broken up and hurt he sounded at the possible thought that our arranged marriage was what drove me away...

There was no love in a noble marriage.

There couldn't be. Instead, there was only the need to boost one's status...to help one rise into power...to avoid conflict between two families—that was the only purpose of a noble marriage. That was the only use of a marriage between nobles. Just as quickly as it had flared, I felt my mood dampen...this man—Absalom—was obviously motivated by nothing more than a sick sense of lust and a desperate need for power...

But was that really surprising?

"Noble blood! Noble blood!"

"You shouldn't be the mistress! You shouldn't even be here at all—you have your own wedding you still need to attend!"

"Yes! Yes! A noblewoman such as yourself should not be given such a nasty title reserved for some lowly commoner.

There was something sickeningly childlike and cruel about the voices in my head as they lowly whispered into my ears, reminding me of the things that had been beaten into my head since birth. I wonder...

Is this what you call the mind of an unstable person?

Perhaps.

These voices have been with me for as long as I can remember—I don't know when they first appeared or how long they've been with me. But they're always there, always mocking me and telling me the harsh truths that I so desperately wanted to forget. Always whispering the cruel reminder of what kind of blood runs through my veins and just how much of a fuck-up I truly was...just how much of a waste of space I was. I can run, but that doesn't change the fact that I still have his blood pumping through my veins or the painful reality that that's all anyone else will ever see if they were to know the truth. They would not see a young woman desperately trying to separate herself from a family she no longer wished to be a part of, but instead, they'd only see the disgraceful offspring of what they consider a great man from a respectable family.

I wonder...is Robin truly accepting of me?

Is she truly alright with the knowledge of my father or is she keeping her real opinions to herself?

Is she silently judging me like every other person in this forsaken world for what my brothers and I decided?

Were we really weak and selfish to run just because we could no longer find it in us to stay in a house so dangerously cold and unloving?

I don't know...

Such questions are what drive me to the darkest corners of my mind—what pushes me to feel this sudden sense of regret and hatred. Regret for telling, regret for accepting, regret...regret for just being alive instead of rotting at the bottom of some cliff...