*will be updated every Wednesday and Saturday*
Part 1
April 9 1679
My eyes flew open, the sweat on my face trickled down my skin. The moonlit sky shone on my face as I lyed in the ground.
Gasping for air, I reached for the nearest object near me - Cloth.
I analyzed it, noticing the stitching and the expensive embroidery. Letters in black ink were inscribed on the cloth.
Tajana
April 2 1679
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring off out into the window. A garden, one of the biggest in the empire, created a very exquisite view. Gorgeous flowers grew in abundance
The sprawling garden, vibrant in life and color, eclipsed my room in every aspect. Despite being the daughter of the Marquess, I was relegated to a room inferior to those of a household servant.
My room was a cold, desolate cell. The stone walls remained damp, there surfaces streaked with grime and ancient mildew, leaving a pungent smell to linger in the air. Beneath my bare feet, the floorboards groaned under the slightest weight.
Rust-colored stains on cracked surfaces showed the forgotten leaks and neglect. My " bed" was a cruel mockery: a single, thin mattress lyed directly upon the cold floor. The air itself was thick with dust and a musty odor, making every breath feel heavy.
This wasn't merely a room, it was a an act of cruelty, a space barely fit for an animal, let alone one of noble birth.
To the outside world, I'm casted as nothing more than a snobby, self-serving, devoid of pity, and ruthlessly trampling over others to get my way person.
They believe I am living a life filled of wealth and indulgence. Stopping at nothing to size whatever I desire.
The rumors about me are as boundless as they are vicious, despite how rarely I venture outside. Yet, the accusations continue, insidious and pervasive, all stem from a single venomous root: my younger sister Nadine.
She crafts an elaborate facade of an innocent bystander, her eyes wide with concern as she artfully whispers insidious remarks about me, poisoning every ear. Nadine possesses a chilling talent for manipulation, twisting perception to her will.
She lives to ensure people believe precisely what she wants them to. Even if that means to dismantle her own sister's reputation for her own gain.
Between us, a deep, festering hatred brews, a silent war waged with whispers and public perception, fueled by her relentless ambition and my suffocating resentment.
To even contemplate stopping Nadine is another thing. Just as merciless as the world beyond these walls proves to be, so too is the suffocating cruelty within.
My parents, figures of neglect who have long since forgotten my existence, and the servants, seizing every opportunity to unleash their pent-up anger upon me, all move within an unyielding pattern.
It's a rhythm of suffering, already ingrained and unbreakable. Part of this, I will admit, is my own flaw: a childhood full of not having the courage to stand up for myself. But as I gaze out this desolate window, my spirit worn, a person can only endure so much agony.
Pain, sharp and constant, born from the misdirected warmth of my parents who offered only abandonment. Pain from the relentless beatings inflicted by those sworn to serve. Pain from the sneers and disgust of others, their judgment weighing down on my shoulders.
Worst of all, the gut-wrenching pain of being utterly alone in a world that offers no escape and no glimmer of hope. A person really can only endure so much....
Until the breaking point.