Chapter 4

Dorian tossed me to the guards without a backward glance and turned toward Portia. As I was shoved into a carriage, I caught one last glimpse through the falling curtain of Dorian gently helping Portia into his.

The road was rough, and the carriage jolted the entire way. My throat was still dry and mute from where he had pressed the nerve.

All I could do was watch through the gap as Portia and Dorian talked and laughed together, the sight settling in my chest like something cold.

I knew Portia had not brought me along out of pity.

Sure enough, from the moment we entered the household, the cruelty never stopped. In the space of half a month, she had knocked over scalding tea onto my hands more times than I could count, watching the blisters rise without a flicker of remorse.

She had even made me kneel in the snow until dawn for no reason other than spite.

Dorian and Lucian never once intervened.

During that time, Lucian sent Portia a gift, an entire case of pearls worth three times more than the betrothal gifts he had given when he courted me in our past life.

I had watched him tuck a hairpin into Portia's hair with his own hands, his gaze so tender and deeply in love.

When he turned and caught sight of me sweeping the corridor, he would not spare me so much as a glance.

Dorian doted on Portia as though she were the most precious thing in the world. He taught her swordplay himself and even had a silver hand-warmer crafted for her so she would never feel the cold.

On her birthday, they hosted a grand banquet at the estate and invited every notable family in the capital. Dorian stood before the gathered crowd and announced that Portia was the young lady of the General's household and the woman that he would protect with his life.

He had forgotten that I was his real sister.

Inside the banquet hall, glasses clinked and congratulations rang out on all sides. Outside, Portia's servants had dragged me to the stone steps and forced me to my knees as a stepping stool.

Servants in fine boots climbed up and down over my back, and with every footfall, the welts Portia had carved into my skin with a cane felt as though they were being torn open all over again.

I clenched my jaw until my face went pale. The nerve Dorian had pressed still held, and I could not force out so much as a whimper.

Tears pooled in my eyes. I did not want to look at their warmth, their celebration. However, the memories would not stop.

I could still see Dorian holding my hand at a banquet in our past life, swearing before everyone that he would protect me for the rest of his days. I could still hear Lucian's vows. All of it flickered before me in relentless succession.

Everything they had once given me, they now gave to Portia.

The wind drove flecks of snow onto my lashes, and I laughed. It came out of nowhere.

Melted snow and tears slipped into my mouth, salty and cold. I told myself there was nothing to grieve over.

The place where my heart should have been still felt frozen solid, aching with a dull, slow throb that would not fade.

I had expected to cry again, the way I did every time I watched them choose Portia and look straight through me.

However, at that moment, I realized my eyes had gone too dry to shed a single tear.

Once every guest had entered, I was finally allowed to stand. Wind drove snow down the back of my collar as I braced my frozen, rigid knees and hauled myself up from the icy steps.

Music and laughter drifted from the banquet hall like needles dipped in ice, sharp enough to make my ears ache. I kept my eyes forward.

The cold that had seeped into my body while I knelt as their footrest now bored deep into the gaps between my bones. As the pain spread, I dragged my leaden legs toward the kitchen in the back courtyard.

It was time for dinner, so I pushed the door open. However, I found the stove cold and the food barrel empty.

"I already told you." The cook, Mrs. Locke, looked me up and down out of the corner of her eye, her lip curled.

"Tonight's food was made for the banquet guests. There's nothing here for you, so what are you even doing back?"

The food in her hands sent a sharp cramp through my stomach.

I opened my mouth to argue, but another servant walked in, pinching her nose while carrying a half-full slop bucket.