Aiden slowly clenched and unclenched his fist. The smeared lip marks on the soft goatskin glove looked sinister.

‘What will become of me now…?’

She could not even ask. She only lowered her eyes in silence.

“From now on, remain that way. Quiet, like a doll.”

“….”

At his cruel words, Sveta froze as if struck by lightning. Her cheeks burned, her heart thudded wildly.

‘Like a doll…’

That single phrase shattered a corner of her heart to pieces.

A voiceless slave. A leather doll. A human target.

The grotesque words rang fresh in her ears. Buried memories rose again in stark clarity.

◯◯◯

Sveta.

It was a name she had given herself — pitiful and forgotten; a name that no one used except Beth.

Her life was no better than that name.

From the moment she first learned to walk, she had lived with shackles fastened around her ankles.

“You must break them in while they are young. Otherwise, they’ll try to escape.”

That was how Jace tamed his slaves.

The lives of Sveta and the others were wretched beyond measure.

From morning until night, they served their masters, performing endless chores. When evening duties ended, they would collapse in the barracks and huddle together for warmth.

Even so, Sveta’s situation had been somewhat better.

Jace recognized the resemblance between her and his daughter, so he gave her to Beth.

“I begged Mother for you. You’re free now!”

With those words, the shackles around her ankles fell away in an instant. Blinking, Sveta looked up at Beth.

Her sapphire eyes sparkled like the boundless sky.

“Free…?”

“Mm-hm. You don’t have to do this anymore.”

“Really?”

“Of course! Let’s celebrate with a picnic.”

“…A picnic?”

Rubbing her bruised ankles, still dark and swollen, Sveta only stared blankly. Beth chuckled.

“Are you just going to keep asking questions? Here, sit down.”

She pushed forward a luxurious chair of rosewood, its soft pink cushion embroidered with delicate blue violets.

It seemed to warn her: If you sit here, Jace will surely break both your legs.

“It’s fine. Sit!”

Beth forced Sveta onto the chair, then tied her hair into two braids. Grinning, she held up a mirror.

“See? We look like twins now, don’t we?”

Beth was her father’s daughter through and through. The only difference was the sunset orange of her hair.

Sveta’s hair had been jet black. From childhood, she had been forced to dye it the same colour as Beth’s. But she hadn’t minded.

It set her apart from Jace and bound her closer to Beth.

She had been raised to die in Beth’s place if necessary, so imitating her noble mannerisms had become second nature.

The girl in the mirror wore even the same expression.

“Yes… we really do look like sisters.”

“Now, put this on.”

Beth handed her a lemon-yellow dress, nearly identical to her own.

“Can I really wear something like this?”

“Of course you can.”

Sveta couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of her. She blushed, unable to contain her joy.

For the first time in her thirteen years, she wore a pretty dress. A shy smile spread across her face.

“Wow… you look so pretty. You don’t look like me at all. No messy freckles or anything!”

Beth clapped and rattled off compliments, but Sveta just hunched her small shoulders, unsure of how to respond.

“When that happens, lift your chin and say thank you.”

“…Thank you.”

Awkwardly, Sveta tilted her head up.

“Yes, just like that. Whenever you feel embarrassed or timid, lift your chin higher. That way, no one will notice. Understand?”

“Yes…!”

Holding hands, the two of them slipped out of the fortress. They passed jagged, craggy mountains of stone and reached a gentle hill.

Sveta sat directly on the ground and spread out a handkerchief, waiting for Beth to sit down on it.

Leaning against a tall tree, Beth gazed south with sparkling eyes.

“See there? If you go down far enough, there’s a green sea.”

“Really?”

“Yes. They call it Oakman Sea. And beyond it lies a mysterious island country.”

“Wow…”

Bess was kind, clever, dazzling. Sveta’s lips parted in awe.

“Someday, I want to go to Muwieo. Marry a fine southern noble, and live happily—with you.”

“With me?”

“Of course!”

In every dream Beth spoke, Sveta was there. The words filled her with such gratitude her throat tightened.

“Here, you’ve never had this before, have you?”

Beth pull a large orange from a small rattan basket. As she peeled it, Sveta only watched with wide, round eyes.

At last, when the orange flesh touched her tongue, it was so sweet, so tart, that tears welled in her eyes.

That day, Sveta learned for the first time: tears can come from happiness.

“Why are you crying?”

“Just… because I’m happy.”

Beth tilted her head, puzzled. Sveta wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and smiled faintly.

“I’m happy too. I love you, Sveta. We’ll live together like this forever!”

“…Yes!”

But when they returned to the fortress hand in hand, Sveta was greeted by a furious Jace.

The moment he saw her, he lunged at her like a hunting dog.

Grabbing her twin braids in one fist, he dragged her across the ground.

“Ahh! It hurts!”

“Father, no—don’t do that!”

Beth jumped onto his arm and clung on tightly. His weight pulled Sveta’s hair down until the roots tore. Tears pricked her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and endured the pain.

“I told you, they have to be trained properly! Didn’t I say it? Didn’t I?”

He dragged her into the training yard and bound her arms and legs to a practice target. Dull-witted though he was, Jace excelled at anything that required brute strength.

Fetching several small daggers, he began hurling them at Sveta one by one—as if it were no more than a game. He even made sound effects with his mouth, reveling in his own theatrics.

“How’s that? Impressive, isn’t it?”

Daggers whistled past her, narrowly missing her. Jace swelled with pride.

Then he seized Beth’s trembling shoulders and spun her around to face Sveta.

“Now, it’s your turn, Beth. Throw.”

“No! I’ll tell Mother!”

“If you are not, then she will go back in chains. Whether you throw it or not—that is your choice.”

“….”

“Our princess is too kind for her own good. This training is for your own good. Now throw!”

Beth’s eyes filled as she looked at Sveta, their gazes locking.

Sveta gave the faintest nod. Better the knife than the chains—one sharp moment of pain was easier to endure.

Her voice trembled as she whispered.

“It’s all right, mistress…”

Beth was her father’s daughter in every sense—strong, deft, and naturally skilled in the use of her body.

The dagger slipped from her small hand and struck the target, yet her clumsy aim turned the throw into a near disaster.

Even so, Jace let out a whoop of pride.

“Well done! My girl!”

A thin line of blood trailed down Sveta’s arm where the blade had grazed her.

Weeping, Beth pulled her back to their room, where she cleaned the wound, applied ointment and blew gently on it to ease the pain.

Sveta trembled beneath her touch. It was the first time anyone had ever soothed her pain.

Only then did she realize how deeply she had yearned for the warmth of another’s care.

For a moment, she almost felt grateful for the injury.

“It’s all right. It doesn’t hurt at all.”

Sveta wiped Beth’s tears away. Beth tilted her head and asked,

“Why don’t you cry?”

“Because I’m happy.”

“What?”

“I can’t cry when I’m happy.”

Beth’s puzzled eyes narrowed.

“What makes you happy?”

Sveta didn’t answer. She feared it would sound strange.

Instead, she spoke only in her heart:

‘Your hands. The way you touch my wounds. The warmth of you.’

On that day, Sveta learnt another thing: If you love someone, the wounds they inflict don’t matter at all.

The next day, and the day after that, Jace tied her up again and performed all kinds of tricks before finally instructing Beth to throw the blade. Cuts and bruises appeared on her slender waist, rounded shoulders, and long arms. Yet Sveta felt no pain.

The reward — the moment of healing that followed — was sweet yet bittersweet. That was enough.

When you love, wounds hardly matter.

◯◯◯

On the night they returned from the banquet, the Duke did not summon her to his chambers.

Alone in the soft bed, she found the night unbearably strange. She only fell asleep near dawn and did not wake until the midday sun kissed her cheek.

Rubbing her eyes, Sveta sat up. Her gaze fell on the oranges that Madam Elise had left behind. She blinked for a moment, then reached for one. Running her fingers over its rough skin, she pressed her nails in and peeled it away with practiced ease.

“…It’s delicious.”

As the sweet and tart juice spread across her tongue, her mood lightened unexpectedly. A sudden spark of resolve stirred within her — she wanted to do something, anything.

This was why she went outside for the first time in a long while.

After wandering around the garden for a while, she hurried across the artificial lake to the stables.

“Dongle!”

The brown horse whinnied in welcome. Stroking its glossy, light-brown coat, Sveta leaned into its warmth.

“I should have come more often. I’m sorry.”

The long, dark-brown tail swished from side to side, and she felt as if it were answering it’s all right. Sveta hugged the horse’s neck all the tighter.

Perhaps both she and this horse should have died that day—yet both still lived. The thought made her heart ache, as though whispering that Aiden truly was a good man.

“If you wish, you may take it outside for a while.”

Startled by the unfamiliar voice, Sveta turned around.