All Chapters of Twice Was She Forsaken: Chapter 11 - Chapter 17

"Theron..."Marzella's sobs rose as she clutched her stomach and crumpled at his feet.Snow clung to her lashes. In the wind, she looked small, trembling—pitiful."I didn't come to fight," she whispered. "I know you're mourning Princess Vionna. But she wasn't your blood. Is her death truly more important than our wedding?"Her voice cracked. "You said it yourself—you wanted to marry me soon..."Then her tear-streaked gaze turned sharp."I'm with child, Theron."Her hands trembled over her stomach. "If we wait any longer—what am I supposed to do? You know what they'll say. You know what happens to women like me."Do you mean to let society tear me apart? Let them drag my family's name through the mud?"Marzella was gambling.Betting that she—and the child she claimed to carry—still mattered more than Vionna.The cliff had proven her right once.He'd chosen her then.And the thrill of it had burned through her like fire. A princess? So what. Vionna had still been the one lef

For three days, Theron had torn through his estate like a man possessed, ignoring command matters entirely. Yet he remembered it clearly—seven days past, no word from Duskmere had reached him.Now, with the memory of drug on his tongue and Lucien's cold truth unraveling—a conspiracy linking Ironmaw to the Wildfolk—rage surged through him like fire catching dry timber.He snatched the sealed token from Lucien, grip iron-tight. "Who at Ironmaw sold us to the Wildfolk?"Lucien's mouth curved, just shy of cruel. "Now you're asking the right question."Every gaze snapped to him."One slipped past your grasp," he said, voice cutting low as a blade. His eyes swept the hall, then fixed on Marzella—slim, trembling, still.He drew his sword and leveled it at her heart.Lucien's voice cracked like thunder. "The plot to join the Wildfolk and butcher thirteen villages—led by House Morwynne!"Gasps rippled through the hall."William Morwynne. Corwin Morwynne. Henry Morwynne. Ten of them, ta

In that dream, Theron saw it all.The one who dropped the drug into his cup—wasn't a nameless spy.It was Marzella.He saw the cliff rescue, too—not fate, but a trap sprung by the Wildfolk, timed to perfection.While Theron spent three years breaking Vionna piece by piece, Marzella lay tangled with a Wildfolk brute, chasing pleasure like a sickness. Heaven alone knows how many ways she gave herself to him.Only when a brutal snowstorm struck—killing their herds and forcing raids into the villages—did she tire of it. Savagery lost its charm.Then word reached her. Theron had crushed Vionna, yet still couldn't forget her.So Marzella returned. Staged her grand resurrection. Slipped into his arms like she'd never left.And then came Ironmaw.In that first life, House Morwynne's treachery shattered the stronghold. Thirteen villages fell. The Wildfolk butchered them all.The memory burned through Theron like acid.He'd buried the truth. Defended her legacy. Pleaded with the court

Even the children of Stormrest knew how vital Ironmaw was—how could the soldiers not?They understood. Which was why the letter to Crownspire mattered so much.But Elsha didn't spare them a glance.She hated every last one of them.If not for that letter, she would've taken Her Highness home long ago.What were their lives to her?She belonged to the princess alone. Vionna bore the weight of duty—Elsha didn't. She'd never pretended to.She was selfish.All she'd ever wanted was for the princess to live.If she'd known this would be the end, she never would've left Vionna in Stormrest.But the damage was done. The ending already written.There was nothing left to change.Maybe now, she would carry the gem-carved pendant Vionna had once pressed into her palm and roam all of Aurenza.She still remembered the wishes Vionna made at her Coming-of-Age Ceremony:First—for peace across Aurenza, so she could roam freely.Second—for her father and mother to live long and rule in he