Chapter 1

The moment I heard the announcement, I forced myself to sit up.

I wanted to confront Tristan Shelby and ask him why he'd done this to me. More than anything, I wanted to know whether he'd ever stopped to think that the children he'd killed were his own flesh and blood.

A wave of despair washed over me as I watched the countdown on the system interface.

Fighting through the pain, I climbed out of bed, retrieved several wooden blocks from underneath it, and began carving them into crosses.

I'd already carved small wooden crosses for each of my four children with my own hands. Tristan certainly wouldn't allow my family a proper burial either, so I had to find some way to remember them.

The two maids who had deliberately broken the news to me exchanged bewildered glances.

"Is she not going to make a scene?" one of them said, making no attempt to lower her voice.

"How strange," the other responded. "She's always been the first to kick up a fuss whenever anything happens to her family."

The door flew open, and Tristan strode inside. His cloak was soaked from the rain, but his expression was icy.

He approached me and knocked the wooden block out of my hand.

"Rosalind's already in such a terrible state, and your mother is still using vile witchcraft against her!" he snarled, seizing my chin. "Isolde, how do you intend to pay for this?"

Rosalind Reed was the adopted daughter of the Shelby family. When the Shelby family fell from grace and lost everything, she was forced into a brothel, where her health steadily deteriorated.

Ever since she was brought back, Tristan had held me responsible for every misfortune that befell her.

When she caught a chill in the spring, I had to kneel in the snow for three days while preparing her medicine. When she suffered heatstroke in the summer, I had to kneel under the scorching sun from noon until sunset. When she coughed up blood in the autumn, I received ten lashes.

Now, I dropped to my knees in the direction of Rosalind's quarters and struck my forehead against the cold stone.

Three blows were enough to leave a painful swelling on my forehead.

"That's enough!"

Tristan's voice cracked. He hauled me to my feet, and the moment he met my vacant stare, he froze.

I paid him no attention. I was too numb even to care.

"My lord, may I see my family's remains?"

Tristan's expression darkened as he shot the two maids a murderous glare. He knew exactly how the news had reached me.

The maids immediately dropped to their knees, begging for forgiveness as their bodies trembled uncontrollably.

Tristan turned back to me.

"They used forbidden magic against Rosalind. Of course I'm not going to spare them," he said, a sneer tugging at his lips. "Back then, your father burned my entire family until nothing was left. Now tell me, what right do you have to see their remains?"

I'd asked Father why he'd done it.

He'd explained that if he hadn't burned the bodies, the women would have been violated even in death, while the men would have suffered a similar indignity. Burning the bodies had been his way of preserving what little dignity the Shelby family had left.

I'd explained this so many times that I no longer had the strength to repeat myself.

Instead, I knelt before Tristan again.

"Please… I'm begging you."

Father had always indulged me, and Mother had loved me dearly. My older brother, Thomas Moore, had always wanted to give me the very best of everything.

I hadn't seen any of them in six years since I'd become Tristan's mistress. I just wanted to see their faces one last time.

Tristan bent down and tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Fine. Crawl on your knees all the way to Rosalind's quarters, stopping every three steps to press your forehead to the ground. If she agrees, I'll let you see them."

The autumn rain had been relentless, and the cold seemed to seep into everything.

I'd always been terribly sensitive to the cold, but if this was my only chance to see my family again, I was willing to endure it.

Without hesitation, I rose to my feet, pushed aside the heavy curtain covering the doorway, and stepped into the rain.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

"Keep an eye on her," Tristan ground out as he passed. "Don't let her slack off."