power; The weight of crown.

Ha!… Ha!…

"One last push, Your Highness," Maria urged, her voice tight with urgency as she held Princess Khloe's trembling legs.

The room reeked of sweat, blood, and the thick scent of burning herbs. Candles flickered wildly, casting eerie shadows that danced along the stone walls. The midwives moved quickly, their hushed whispers barely audible over Khloe's ragged breaths.

Khloe clenched the silk sheets beneath her, her fingernails sinking deep into the fabric. Pain lanced through her body, tearing her apart from the inside.

Hnnn… Ha!

A sharp, piercing wail shattered the suffocating silence.

The midwives exhaled in relief, the tension in the room finally breaking. The baby's cries rang out, high and unrelenting, echoing through the cold chamber. The wind outside seemed to hush as if listening.

Maria moved swiftly, wiping the newborn clean before wrapping him in a soft, woven cloth. She turned toward the princess, her face alight with joy.

"My lady, it's a beautiful baby boy."

Khloe lay still.

Her body trembled with exhaustion, golden strands of her sweat-dampened hair clinging to her pale skin. But her emerald-green eyes remained fixed on the canopy above, unblinking, unreadable.

She did not move.

She did not reach for the child.

She did not ask to see him.

Maria hesitated, her hands tightening around the infant. "My lady… you should at least take a glance."

"Take it away."

The room fell silent.

The warmth in Maria's face faltered. "…But, Your Highness, it's..."

"I said take that thing away!" Khloe's voice lashed through the chamber like a blade, sharp and unyielding.

Maria flinched. The midwives exchanged uneasy glances, but no one dared speak. The baby's cries filled the emptiness, desperate and unrelenting.

Maria swallowed the lump in her throat. She turned, cradling the tiny, writhing bundle in her arms.

She had taken two steps toward the door when...

"Maria."

She froze.

A chill ran down her spine. Slowly, she turned back.

Khloe's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, her expression eerily calm. But her voice carried the weight of an undeniable command.

"Make sure you burn it to ash before you return."

Maria's breath caught in her throat.

The baby whimpered softly against her chest, unaware of the cruel fate his mother had just decreed.

The midwives stiffened, horror flashing in their eyes, but they said nothing. They had served the royal family long enough to know that defying an order, meant death.

Maria's fingers tightened around the baby. She opened her mouth, as if to argue, but then closed it again. There was no use.

Khloe was already dead inside.

"…Yes, Your Ladyship." Maria bowed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Khloe did not acknowledge her.

Maria turned swiftly, her heart hammering in her chest as she stepped out of the chamber.

The moment the heavy wooden doors shut behind her, the room fell into suffocating stillness.

Khloe exhaled slowly.

A single tear slipped down her cheek.

She reached up and wiped it away before it could stain her courage.

There is no room for grief. No room for love. Only power.

Her fingers found the silver bracelet on her wrist—the only thing left of Dean.

The only proof that she had once known love.

She curled her fingers around it, gripping it so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"I swear by Dean's blood, I will crush Cullen to pieces."

Her grip tightened, nails digging into her palm.

"I am the Crown Princess. My emotions do not matter. I will avenge you, my love."

The wind outside howled, as though mourning the fate of the child whose mother had condemned him before ever laying eyes on him.

Maria ran through the dark corridors, the baby clutched against her chest.

Her mind raced.

She had to act fast. The princess had given an order, an unforgivable order.

She reached the back gates, where a hooded figure waited in the shadows. A carriage stood behind them, its horses restless in the cold night air.

Maria hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward.

Inside the carriage sat an old woman—her face creased with time, her silver hair hidden beneath a thick cloak. Her eyes, dark as night, studied Maria carefully.

Maria's breath came in quick, desperate puffs. "The Princess has ordered you to follow what's in the letter." Maria said, handing over a parchment.

The woman's gaze did not waver. "And what has the Princess ordered you to do?"

Maria swallowed hard. She hesitated, then whispered, "She… she commanded me to burn him."

The old woman exhaled, her expression unreadable.

She reached forward, her frail hands surprisingly steady as she took the child from Maria's arms. The baby stirred slightly, his tiny fingers curling against her cloak.

The woman looked down at the child, her expression softening just slightly. Then she turned back to Maria.

"Tell her I did as she asked."

Maria nodded quickly, relief flooding her chest. "Thank you."

The old woman said nothing. She simply pulled the hood lower over her face and signaled for the driver to move.

As the carriage rolled away into the night, Maria whispered under her breath, "Let the gods forgive us for this deception."

Back at the palace, Khloe lay in silence.

The bathwater was still warm, scented oils swirling in delicate patterns across the surface. The bruises on her body had begun to fade, but the emptiness inside her remained.

Olivia, her personal maid, knelt beside the tub, gently running a cloth over Khloe's bare shoulder. Her touch was careful, delicate—as if she feared the princess might shatter.

"Your Highness," Olivia said softly, "shall I prepare the royal gown for your wedding?"

Khloe opened her eyes.

They were hollow.

"Yes," she murmured.

A knock at the door.

A soldier stepped inside, his expression grim. "Your orders, my lady?"

Khloe's lips curved into a small, cruel smile.

"Kill the midwives. Kill every maid who bore witness to this night."

The soldier hesitated for only a second. Then he bowed. "As you command."

As he turned to leave, Olivia swallowed audibly, her hands trembling slightly as she folded the cloth.

Khloe noticed.

She tilted her head, studying the young maid with quiet interest.

Olivia quickly lowered her gaze, hiding her fear behind a mask of obedience.

The doors shut behind the soldier, sealing the fate of the innocent.

One by one, the matron and the midwives were slaughtered. Their blood seeped into the palace floors, their muffled screams lost beneath the howling wind.

But one of them escaped.

The one Khloe least trusted.

And with her, she carried the one thing that could bring everything Khloe is about to build crashing down.