For a moment, I saw a flicker of doubt in his sharp wolfish eyes. What if she didn’t mean for the wardrobe accident to happen?

No. That couldn’t be true.

“Lady Freya.”

I walked past him without a word. Then, with deliberate motion, I pulled off his ink-black jacket and tossed it into the large trash bin at the side. Right in front of him.

Silence cracked. Gareth’s mouth opened slightly, a flash of something.

Was it confusion? Regret? Annoyance?

But it defintely crossed his face.

I didn’t care.

“Lady Freya,” Alwin, a Beta who had served the castle since my childhood, rushed forward, worry in his voice.

“What happens to insolent servants who gossip behind their masters?” I asked coldly.

“They… are punished, Lady Freya?”

I didn’t answer. My heart wasn’t calm. It was burning with hurt, rage, and sorrow.

I turned back to him. Without hesitation, my hand shot forward.

CRACK.

The sound of my palm meeting Gareth’s cheek cut through the hallway like a gunshot, louder than the music from the ballroom, louder than Gwyneth’s dramatic gasp.

Gareth didn’t flinch. He froze, the red mark blooming across his skin. His jaw clenched. I leaned closer, my voice low, shaking, venomous.

“Who the hell are you to decide my worth?” I hissed.

“Who gave you the right to judge me and then call me… that?”

My voice broke, but I didn’t.

“A whore? Really? After everything I gave you… after every time I protected you… you humiliate me like this?”

For a moment, his eyes shifted, a flicker of guilt passing across them. He wanted to speak, but I wasn’t done.

“Out of everyone who has ever hurt me… you?” I whispered bitterly, stepping closer, breath trembling.

“You are my greatest regret. Even a dog doesn’t bite the hand that feeds it. But you… you are worse than a dog.”

“This house was never safe. The woman you chase… you don’t even know her. Yet you follow her blindly, a fool who will never understand until she drags you into hell herself!”

Gareth’s cold, indifferent eyes widened slightly, shock flashing across them as he muttered.

“Freya…”

I turned away and left.

Inside my room, finally alone, I collapsed. Trembling, I relived every moment of humiliation. My mind spun like a storm.

With shaky fingers, I looked to see if there were terrible news about today’s event or about my exposed body. I braced myself to be mocked by everyone.

Then, something happened.

There was an anonymous letter.