I sold myself to bury my father, and in return, Kingston's playboy, Cassian Aniston, took me into his home.
He offered me a refuge, but it came at a price—one filled with humiliation.
"You're nothing more than my plaything," he often taunted, his tone dripping with disdain.
And all the while, his beloved schemed to see me dead.
It was a dangerous game—one where two dogs strived for a bone, and a third ran away with it.
1
A month ago, I married into the Aniston family. There was no lavish wedding feast, just a place to call home, but it was an act of kindness I'd never forget.
Starving and freezing, with both my parents gone, I sold myself to bury my father.
Thankfully, Cassian came to my rescue, saving me from the cold streets.
But this grand manor was quite different from what I imagined. The flowers and plants were well-kept, frost and snow covering them.
Yet, there was a lack of warmth here. It was rare for the family to dine together, all because of Cassian's reputation as a playboy.
I'd heard the servants whisper about it. The most dissolute son in Kingston belonged to the Marquis' only child—Cassian.
People flattered him as the young Marquis, and his rescue of me was perhaps just a whim, a moment of his pleasure.
On a bitterly cold day, Cassian's mother, Ashley Aniston, summoned me. She held a warming stove, with two maids standing behind her.
The disdain on her face was unmistakable. "Snow, since you've entered the marquis' house, you should know your place. If you don't, let these two girls teach you today."
Indeed, Cassian had given me the name "Snow," and I kept my original surname, "Robinson."
I lowered my head, speaking gently, "Mother, please don't be angry. You can rest, and I'll prepare dinner right away."
She snorted, unwilling to let me off easily. "You two, teach her some manners today!"
I could hear the maids sneering, their laughter cutting through me like a knife.
As the snow fell heavily, Cassian was probably indulging in a palace feast, drinking his fill.
Meanwhile, they forced me to kneel in the snow, my hands turning red and cold.
They only left after half an hour, humming a tune.
"Mrs. Ashley Aniston wants pasty. Don't be late," one of them said.
I struggled to my feet, watching the snowfall intensify.
With my head bowed, I placed the wrapped pasties on a board, watching the boiling water bubble.
The entire courtyard was silent except for the sound of my movements.
Cassian returned in a flurry, his red clothes billowing behind him, a smile lighting up his face. "Snow, I'm back!"
Everyone had retired early after dinner, leaving me alone in the pavilion, wrapped in a fox fur, enjoying the snow. It was dark, and I couldn't see much.
Seeing him, I greeted him as always, fulfilling my role as a devoted wife, inquiring about his well-being.
Cassian's smile was truly captivating.
When I was stranded on the streets, he dismounted like a god.
He was no god; he was a real person who came to my rescue.
He smiled, retrieving a golden hairpin from his sleeve. "The princess at the palace gave this as a reward. I think it suits Snow perfectly."
I knew I didn't deserve it, but before I could refuse, he pulled me into his embrace, his voice low and gentle. "Don't move."
He led me back to our bedroom, showing me my reflection in the mirror. The golden hairpin was exquisite, even if it wasn't to my taste.
"It's indeed beautiful, and I love it," I said with a gentle smile, seeing my reflection in his eyes.
Cassian might be a playboy, but at least, with him, I had a home.
2
Perhaps I had been wandering for too long, and before spring even arrived, my health took a nosedive. At first, it was just a lack of appetite, but Ashley assumed I was pregnant and hurried to call the doctor.
The diagnosis, however, left her thoroughly disappointed. I could hear her voice echoing through the house, filled with frustration. "What good is it to bring home a sickly wife?"
Within three days, a beautiful maid appeared in our home, supposedly to take care of me, but really, she was there to serve as a concubine.
She was always close to me but even closer to Cassian.
I spent my days relying on medicine to keep me alive, yet I saw no improvement.
That was until I caught Fiona Portman, the maid, dumping my medicine into a flower pot.
What have I been drinking all this time?
When she brought me another bowl of medicine, I flatly refused.
She insisted, and in the struggle, the bowl shattered on the floor.
"What did you put in there?" I managed to push myself up, my voice weak and shaky.
Fiona smirked, looking down at me with disdain. "Just a disposable pawn thinking you can win Cassian's heart?"
I collapsed back onto the floor, hearing her mutter to herself.
She claimed to be from the future, lamenting how I was ruining her and her best friend's good fortune.
What is this talk of time travel?
As my consciousness faded, I felt someone lift me up. Cassian's worried voice called out, "Snow, Snow."
It was Cassian.
I whispered to myself, wanting to rise and escape the abyss.
But when I opened my eyes, it wasn't Cassian I saw; it was Ashley.
Her anger was still simmering as she glared down at me, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Learning to complain to me about my son now, are we?"
Confused, I noticed Fiona kneeling on the ground, her face buried in her hands, trembling as she cried. "Mrs. Aniston didn't want to take her medicine. She asked us to switch it for birth control pills and not tell you…"
My heart sank.
So that's what she has been giving me!
In this place, without children, I would have no standing. I wanted to argue, but Ashley slapped me hard across the face. "As Cassian's wife, not having children is a grave sin!"
She called for Cassian. "Isn't it time for a peaceful divorce?"
Cassian glanced at me, and the pain in his eyes seemed genuine. He soothed Ashley's anger, finally saying, "Snow has no one else; she should stay in the house…"
He looked at Ashley, seemingly conceding. "Let her be a concubine, then."
I went from being his wife to his mistress while the maid moved up in the world, earning Ashley's favor.
Every time I felt I couldn't stay in this house any longer, it was Cassian who comforted me, insisting that as long as he was around, no one would dare bully me.
Before all this, I believed him. After all, it was my health that was failing; I couldn't let Cassian down. Especially when I saw the way he looked at children; it pained me deeply, making me feel like I owed him something.
"I only want a child with Fiona; my heart belongs to you," Cassian would whisper sweetly, even though he carried the scent of Fiona's perfume on him. I'd swallow my discomfort and smile at him.
But today was different. When Cassian returned home after a night of drinking, his collar bore the lipstick mark of another woman.
I knew he was a flirt and had likely been out with a courtesan.
But when he held me close, demanding affection, he called out, "Kate, why won't you look at me?"
At first, I thought he had found a new love. It wasn't until the flower-viewing banquet that I realized the tragic truth of it all.
At the banquet, the woman who caught everyone's eye was none other than the most favored princess of the realm—Kate Winslet.
She and I bore a striking resemblance, right down to our clothing styles.
But no, my dresses were all tailored to Cassian's taste.
I turned my gaze to him, only to find his eyes fixated on Kate.
Something inside me felt like it had shattered.
I clenched the fabric of my gown, a wry smile creeping onto my lips.
So, I am just a stand-in, a mere substitute? If it weren't for that, I might have starved to death out in the wild by now.
I have been like a weed, lowly and insignificant, so who am I to complain about the brilliance of a gem?
3
I had finally exposed Cassian's lies, and instead of remorse, he erupted into a maniacal laughter. "If I can't have Kate, then what makes you think I can't have you?"
His grip tightened around my neck, pinning me against the bed. My frail body, already weakened by illness, protested against the roughness of the mattress. He smiled at me, but it felt more like the grin of a demon than a lover.
There was no hint of pity in his eyes as Cassian hurled insults, each word slicing through me like a dagger. "You're just a commoner. I provide for you, and you think you can just walk away?"
He yanked my hair, and as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear, his voice turned sinister. "I can't bear to touch Kate; what are you to me? Just a toy to pass the time!"
With the mask ripped away, Cassian revealed his true self. In Aniston Manor, Fiona quickly became pregnant, and I felt like a ghost, drifting through the halls as an outsider.
I pleaded with Cassian to let me go.
By day, he fawned over Kate, but by night, he unleashed his frustrations on me.
As I watched the autumn leaves fall, I couldn't shake the feeling that my time was running out. My body was on the verge of collapse.
Fiona insisted I accompany her on a shopping trip, but I was too weak to keep up. She went off on her own, her belly round with child, while I trailed behind, moving slowly.
In the bustling crowd, I was suddenly knocked to the ground by a passerby. "Sorry, miss!" he called out, urgency in his voice.
With a sigh, I struggled to get back on my feet, only to spot a small sachet lying on the ground. I wanted to turn back to retrieve it, but Fiona's urgent voice cut through the noise. "My stomach hurts so much!"
Returning home, I realized this was yet another scheme of Fiona's to frame me.
The way everyone looked at me felt like a reminder that I was beneath them, forced to bow my head under their scrutiny.
Fiona simply cried out that she had lost the child, and they all turned their accusations toward me.
In their eyes, I was the usurper of the rightful wife, envious of her for bearing children.
"Just this once," I heard someone say outside, and I looked up, momentarily stunned.
It was the young man who had bumped into me earlier.
Instinctively, I lowered my gaze as he approached, and I stepped aside to let him pass.
Fiona had indeed lost the baby, but to my shock, the young man dared to ask whose child it was.
Cassian's face turned ashen. "What kind of question is that?"
The physician, however, seemed in good spirits. "Just prescribe her some remedies to help her recover," he said, pausing before adding, "My condolences."
Feeling the weight of their gazes on me, I instinctively lowered my head even more.
Perhaps Cassian didn't want outsiders to witness this scene; he quickly ushered everyone out, including me.
As I walked over the bridge, heading back to my room, someone blocked my path.
"I'm Wesson Augustine," he introduced himself, the physician from earlier.
I blinked in surprise and nodded, fumbling in my pocket to pull out the sachet I had found, not wanting to engage in conversation, and turned to leave.
Wesson had a faint, pleasant scent of herbs about him, and he stepped in front of me, blocking my way. "You look unwell; how about I give you a check-up?"
His eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, but I didn't understand his intentions and declined his offer.
"Come on, let me repay your kindness!" he insisted, his face calm but his words persistent.
I was at my wit's end. Just as I thought he would follow me into my private quarters, I finally relented and let him examine me.
Wesson calmly pulled out a silk handkerchief and placed it on my wrist, his brow furrowing deeper as he studied me.
Finally, he smiled and said, "You're in good health."
I scoffed internally at his incompetence, but suddenly, I coughed up blood—yet again. It was becoming a routine, and I had lost count of this month.
He handed me a small vial with a smile. "Your health is contingent on following my advice. Medicine works wonders, you know. Do you trust me?"
4
I had no idea what Wesson had said to them, but to my surprise, they didn't bother me again.
It was an unspoken agreement among them to pretend nothing had happened.
But that didn't mean Fiona would let things lie.
She always seemed to find ways to trip me up, whispering poison into Ashley's ear and fueling her disdain for me.
I wanted to walk away, but it felt like there was an invisible chain binding me.
The urge to escape grew heavier each day, and whether what Wesson handed me was poison or a lifesaver, I took it all as he advised.
As another winter rolled in, I surprisingly didn't feel as cold as before.
Cassian dragged me along on a shopping trip. When he spotted some candies on the side of the street, he asked if I wanted some.
What choice did I have? I simply glanced up and said, "Sure."
He crossed the street to buy them, and for a rare moment, I felt the tension in my shoulders ease.
"How have you been?" I looked up and was startled to find Wesson standing there.
As I recalled my recent health issues, my gaze became complicated, but I managed a gentle smile. "Much better, but… why are you helping me?"
Wesson chuckled, fanning himself playfully. "I'm just such a nice guy!"
I was momentarily speechless, caught off guard.
"Dr. Augustine?" Cassian's tone turned icy, pulling me back into the present. "Are you two close?"
It made sense, really.
The tension between them was palpable, and word of Kate's infatuation with Wesson had spread like wildfire outside Kingston.
Kate was the king's favorite sister, and their story had become common knowledge.
After falling ill with a terrible sickness, she had refused to let her looks deter Wesson, who stayed by her side through her recovery.
Six months later, she had finally turned a corner, regaining her former beauty.
Kate had spent lavishly on Wesson, but her affections went unreturned. Just like me and Cassian, really.
"Oh, we just happened to bump into each other and struck up a conversation," Wesson replied with a slight smile, a far cry from the playful demeanor he had just moments earlier.
Cassian scoffed, gripping my wrist with surprising strength as he began to pull me away.
We went back home, and once inside, he shoved me into a chair, his anger bubbling over. "What's your connection with Wesson? When did you two start cozying up?"