Scrubbed to Silence

Elsa’s POV

The stone floors gleamed beneath my raw hands, though no one would thank me for it. My body ached, my stomach hollow and growling, but I dared not pause. Crystal’s words from earlier echoed mercilessly in my head:

“If she doesn’t scrub every inch of the palace clean, she doesn’t eat today. And if she’s not finished by night, you will pay, too.”

She hadn’t even addressed me directly. She’d said it to the high maid, her tone light, as if discussing weather rather than my survival.

The high maid, a woman who had long since learned to bend beneath Crystal’s cruelty, simply nodded. “Yes, my lady.” Then she turned to me with weary eyes and said, “You heard her. Don’t expect supper.”

So here I was, on my knees, hands raw from scrubbing floors that already shone, knowing that no matter how much I cleaned, Crystal would find fault. That was her way.

By mid afternoon, sweat drenched my back, dripping into my eyes, stinging the skin where bruises from the last beating still lingered. Isa stirred inside me, restless, growling low.

This is beneath us, she hissed. We’re not slaves. We’re not cattle to starve.

I gritted my teeth, whispering under my breath so no one else would hear. “We survive. That’s all that matters.”

But even as I said it, my knees shook, and the ache in my empty stomach threatened to buckle me.

Lila slipped into the corridor, glancing nervously over her shoulder. “Elsa,” she whispered urgently, crouching beside me. “Here.” She tried to press a piece of bread into my hand.

I froze, staring at it. My mouth watered at the smell, but before I could take it, the high maid’s voice snapped from the shadows.

“Lila!”

Lila yanked her hand back, face paling. “I…”

The high maid strode forward, eyes sharp. “Do you want punishment to fall on you, too? You know Lady Crystal’s orders.”

Lila’s hands trembled. She shook her head quickly, hiding the bread in her apron pocket.

The high maid turned her gaze on me, her tone softer but edged with resignation. “Keep working, Elsa. Don’t drag others down with you.”

Then she walked off, leaving silence in her wake.

“I’m sorry,” Lila whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.

I forced a small smile, though my stomach twisted painfully. “Don’t be. You’d only suffer, too. I can handle this.”

But even as I said it, the ache of hunger gnawed at me, sharp and merciless.

By evening, the palace glowed with candlelight, and laughter drifted from the dining hall. The pack feasted while I scrubbed alone in the corridor outside, each sound of clinking cutlery like a dagger in my chest.

I could almost smell the roasted meat, the fresh bread, the rich stew. My stomach growled loudly, echoing off the stone walls. I clenched my fists, scrubbing harder, until my knuckles bled.

This isn’t living, Isa snarled. This is torment.

But what choice did I have? If I faltered, Lila would pay. I couldn’t let that happen.

At some point, the door to the dining hall creaked open. A pair of warriors stepped out, still laughing from whatever jest had been told at the table. They stopped when they saw me kneeling there, rag in hand.

One smirked. “Look at her. Scrubbing floors while we eat like kings.”

The other chuckled. “Maybe we should drop our scraps for her. Like feeding a stray dog.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I kept my gaze down, scrubbing harder.

The first warrior leaned closer, his voice mocking. “Tell me, Elsa, how does it feel to be rejected by your Alpha? To be replaced so easily?”

The rag slipped in my hand. I froze.

They laughed harder, one tossing a chicken bone onto the floor beside me. “Here. A treat for the mutt.”

My wolf howled in rage inside me, but I forced myself not to move, not to give them satisfaction. I picked up the bone, not to eat it but to toss it into the bucket, then returned to scrubbing as though their taunts meant nothing.

But inside, I was burning.

Hours dragged on. The corridors emptied as the pack retired for the night, but I remained, my body a shell of exhaustion. My scarf had slipped, revealing the fading bruise on my cheek. My hands were blistered, my stomach so hollow I felt dizzy.

At last, the high maid returned, her expression tired. “Enough for today,” she said quietly.

I blinked up at her, swaying on my knees. “But… Crystal said—”

“I’ll tell her you worked until dawn if I have to,” she cut me off sharply. Then, her voice softened. “Go rest, Elsa. You’ll need your strength.”

I stumbled back to the servants’ quarters, barely able to walk. Lila jumped up when she saw me, rushing to steady me.

“You’re freezing,” she whispered, pressing a blanket around my shoulders. She pulled the bread from earlier from her pocket, thrusting it into my hands before I could protest. “Eat. Please.”

I stared at it, torn. If Crystal found out….

But Lila’s eyes brimmed with desperation. “Don’t let her win, Elsa. Don’t let her break you like this.”

My chest tightened. Slowly, I took a bite. The bread was stale, rough against my tongue, but it was the sweetest thing I’d tasted in months.

Tears burned my eyes, but I swallowed them down with the bread.

That night, as I lay shivering under the thin blanket, I stared at the ceiling, hunger still gnawing but dulled by the meager bread.

Crystal wanted me weak. She wanted me starved, broken, compliant.

But each cruelty only carved her image deeper into my mind. Each humiliation etched another promise in my heart.

If you want revenge, survive. If you want freedom, fight.

The stranger’s words came back again, steady as a heartbeat.

I would survive this hunger. I would survive Crystal’s cruelty, Caleb’s betrayal, the pack’s mockery.