As Mortimer's cruel fist connected with the disguised Sophia, her body reacted as expected, crumpling under the force of the blow.
As a clone she didn't feel any pain—but imagining that Eve had endured this abuse for years filled Sophia with a burning hatred.
Mortimer's cruelty knew no bounds, and it took every ounce of her training to keep her emotions in check.
The icy chill of the castle's stone floor beneath her only heightened the sense of dread and helplessness that she had to portray.
Adrian's clone, disguised as Darian, stood nearby, maintaining his composed facade, though his insides roiled with fury.
It took all his willpower not to lash out at the baron, to end this charade and put an end to Mortimer's vile existence.
But now wasn't the time. They both knew that Mortimer's reckoning would come, but it had to be done carefully, with precision, to ensure Eve and her mother would be safe.
This was a delicate operation, and they couldn't afford to act rashly.
After Mortimer finished venting his fury on her, he roughly grabbed Sophia's disguised form by the hair, yanking her head back with a cruel sneer on his face.
There was no pain, but even so Eve bit back the anger that threatened to break through. Her body remained limp, submissive—just as Eve would have been trained to be under his control.
With a final shove, Mortimer threw her at Darian's feet, watching her crumple to the ground like a broken doll.
"Remember, little bitch," Mortimer hissed, his voice dripping with venom, "stay pure don't let that brat touch you. follow my orders, or your mother will suffer more than you have. You know I always keep my promises." He spat on the floor in disgust, a derisive sneer playing on his lips as he towered over her.
Eve let out a sob, a convincing display of fear and submission, as she curled into herself on the cold stone floor. Inside, however, she was seething.
Through her mental connection with Darian, she conveyed her disgust and her determination. They both knew that very soon, they will bring Eve to enact her revenge on this vile man.
Mortimer's eyes flicked back to "Darian," his expression sharp and expectant.
"Get this wench out of my sight," he ordered with a wave of his hand. "Take her to see her mother if she's so desperate. But remember, girl," he added, turning his malevolent gaze back to Sophia's clone, "if you even think about disobeying me, I'll make sure your mother suffers a fate far worse than anything you can imagine."
With that final threat hanging in the air, Mortimer turned on his heel and strode away, his long cloak trailing behind him like a shadow.
His footsteps echoed through the corridors as he called for a maid to escort him to his chambers, where he would indulge in his twisted pleasures, oblivious to the fact that his carefully constructed world was about to come crashing down.
Adrian's clone watched him leave, suppressing the urge to draw his dagger and end the baron's life right then and there.
But now wasn't the time. Patience, he reminded himself. The real Adrian, Eve, and Sophia were already making their way through the secret tunnels. This distraction was working as planned.
Adrian's clone turned to one of the guards stationed nearby.
"Take us to the prison where her mother is kept," he ordered, his voice sharp with authority. The guard hesitated for a moment, clearly unsettled by the presence of "Darian" and the battered "Eve" at his feet, but then nodded, leading them down a series of dimly lit hallways.
The corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, each turn more foreboding than the last. The stone walls, lined with old tapestries and flickering torches, exuded a coldness that seeped into the bones.
The further they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became, as if the very castle itself was a prison, designed to crush the spirits of those within.
The smell of damp stone and mold filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of decay—a stark reminder of the countless lives that had suffered and died within these walls.
Finally, they arrived at a heavy, iron door reinforced with thick wooden beams. Several soldiers stood guard outside, their expressions blank and disinterested.
They were used to guarding the dungeons, a task that required no thought, only obedience. The guard accompanying Darian exchanged a few hushed words with them before unlocking the door with a large, rusted key.
The door creaked open, revealing a small, dimly lit room that felt more like a dungeon than a living space. The air was stale, and the cold stone walls were covered in patches of mildew.
The narrow bed in the corner, little more than a wooden plank with a thin, tattered blanket, was the only piece of furniture in the room. It exuded an overwhelming sense of despair and abandonment.
Lying on the bed was Eve's mother, her frail form barely recognizable. Once a beautiful and strong woman, she now appeared pale and gaunt, her face hollowed by years of suffering.
Her hair,once full, hung in thin, limp strands around her face. Her breathing was shallow, and every movement seemed to bring her pain.
The years of abuse and neglect had taken a heavy toll on her body and spirit, reducing her to a shadow of her former self.
As the door creaked open, Eve's mother stirred weakly. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing dull, lifeless irises that barely focused on her surroundings.
When she saw the figure of Eve standing before her, a flicker of recognition crossed her face, quickly followed by tears.
Despite her fragile state, a glimmer of happiness and deep sorrow mixed in her gaze. She knew the pain her daughter had endured for her sake, and it broke her heart.
"My sweet girl…" she whispered, her voice barely audible, strained from disuse. "I'm so sorry… for everything…"
Eve knelt beside her, gently taking her frail hand in her own. The connection between her and the real Eve was strong, and she could feel Eve's mother's emotions surging through her—a mixture of relief, sorrow, and anger.
Through their mental link, they relayed the situation to the real Adrian and Eve, who were still making their way through the secret tunnels.
"We have secured her, next is up to you guys, hurry up and get here, we will try to stall the gurads for some time." Darian conveyed his thoughts to Adrian.