Two days have passed ever since Claire was thrown to the underground cell in the dungeon. In the unending darkness, Claire trembled, her heart heavy and her body ache, feeling the chills of the floor creeping up to her.
The cold and damp stonewall makes her breathing heavier. Despair wrapping her whole being as there is no one there to see her.
She felt betrayed and felt the unfairness of the world, she doesn't even know anything about politics yet some unknown side had deliberately chosen her to be the scapegoat.
'The crown prince hates me that much…,' She thought as she slouched in the fetal position. 'I have no idea about politics, yet they accuse her of doing a rebellion, even stranger, they chose me, a noble who barely socializes as the scapegoat.
Her head was filled with millions of unanswered questions. One question comes, yet no logical thought can answer it. Another question appeared, and then another, and another, making her even more stressed.
Everything felt like a dream, she cannot think of anything that would cause her life to be flipped upside down in just one night.
'If only I didn't follow the politics between the nobles, I might've not ended up in this state…'
The image of her childhood flashes in her mind. She hugged her knee tighter.
'Ever since I was a child, I was always in the shadow of the family, they never let me join any noble gathering…'
In the past, Claire never mind that she wasn't allowed to go outside of the Duchy before her debut. Yet, she never would have thought that she would end up in a dirty dungeon such as this one.
'Was all of this just because I stumbled to him yesterday?' She thought, her red pomegranate eyes glistening with tears. 'That is enough for him to shatter someone's life?'
The dungeon is more like hell rather than a prison for a noble who is serving a sentence. The damp air and rotten smell scattered around every corner, while the rusty iron bars become the wall between Claire and freedom.
Glancing at the breakfast given by a warden this morning, she couldn't muster any appetite looking at the piece of moldy bread and reek of the water.
'They even treat me like a vile creature…'
Claire hand held her grumbling stomach, she was very hungry, yet she couldn't bring herself to eat the food in front of her. Her throat couldn't bear to swallow the mold on the bread, while her reek water couldn't clench her thirst.
'The Crown Prince really doesn't care about me… not even father cared enough to stand up for me…'
She frowned, her tears already dried up after sobbing for the last two days.
'Maybe that's how they eliminate a pest like me,' She thought, feeling countless needles piercing her heart.
Closing her eyes, Claire began to wander in what way she might be punished. If they really convict her with treason, then, the only punishment would be death.
'What about Vincent?' Opening her eyes again, she felt a little spark of hope. 'Have he forgotten about me?'
On the first night she spends in the dungeon, Claire still has hope that all of this will be passed as a misunderstanding and that the crown prince would apologize to her. Yet, the first day passed with nothing but her and her thoughts in this damp lonely dungeon.
Hope still lingers in her heart as the second day comes, yet the hope fades as she sees the food those wardens gave her, it was as if there is no point in giving a luxurious meal to someone who will be sentenced to death.
Only the light from the torch on the end of the dungeon accompanied her in the darkness, the cold damp stone hugging her body.
'That's enough… there is no use in hoping for miracles…'
She closed her eyelids again. At that moment, she can hear heavy steps coming towards her from the dungeon entrance.
Brown hair which reminds her of her dear brother–Vincent, the firm lines of his face, and the empty eyes that were fixed on her. The duke standing beside him with unconcealed hatred, the duke's gaze was so piercing, making Claire feel like she was just a stranger who was not the duke's flesh and blood.
"Father …" Claire's called weakly, trying her best to get closer to the duke, yet her weak body failed her as she fell again.
"Please listen to me, Father. I–I have no idea about any rebellion… I did nothing wrong!"
The father only glanced at her with his piercing gaze. "You think I would believe you? The Crown Prince has never made any unbiased accusation, if he accuses you of treason, that means you are a treacherous person!"
"But, Father–!" she choked. "I've never been involved in politics, I've never even left the mansion! Father knows that! I… I just…"
She couldn't help but sob again, trying her best to not let the dried tears wet again.
"You know that I have never done anything that could be considered a treason."
Unfortunately, the duke showed no mercy to her at all. His eyes narrowed in displeasure, a small snicker was heard from his mouth.
"The Crown Prince must have a greater reason to accuse you, I believe in the reaper more than you."
It was absurd. The words filled with hatred stabbed Claire's heart. There was no warmth, not an ounce of fatherly affection.
Claire didn't even understand why her father hated her so much. She had always felt unwanted and had no hope placed on her, but she never thought that her father would let something of this caliber happen to her.
"You have disappointed me," The duke continued.
It should have been Claire who said that to the duke, disappointed in her father who took the prince's side. Claire swallowed her pain deeply, realizing that no one was on her side in this world.
With her voice full of pain, the bitter voice came out, "Where is Vincent? Does he know about this?"
The duke's silence answered Claire's question, he just stared at Claire's face blankly. However, a dark shadow stood behind the duke. The same brown hair as the duke, the gentle face and the sad gaze were fixed on Claire's weak appearance behind the iron bars.
Vincent.
His face wasn't showing any hatred, but it was full of remorse. Vincent looked at Claire with sorrowful eyes, but he didn't say a word to defend his sister. "Vincent…" She murmured. "Tell me that this is all a misunderstanding. Tell me that you'll help me get out of here…"
Vincent remained silent. With heavy steps, he approached Claire and crouched in front of her from behind the prison cell. Claire saw something glittery in his hand—a silver dagger wrapped in dark cloth. He handed it to her with a guilty expression on his face.
"This… is for you, Claire," he said in a hoarse voice.
Claire was stunned, her hands shaking as she held the dagger.
"What… What is this, Vincent? You… are telling me to…"
Die?
Vincent did not respond, only lowering his gaze with profound guilt. Claire felt her world crumble, as the brother she cherished and respected became the very person who wished for her death. No more tears came; her dark circles were more pronounced, her face paler than ever. Claire could hardly bear the crushing pain in her chest.
"Vincent... why?"
Again and again, Vincent answered with silence. Duke, their father, patted his shoulder as if to signal that their visiting time was over. Without addressing Claire's question, Vincent turned and followed his father, leaving Claire in a suffocating silence.
"Vincent …."
'Why?'
Their footsteps faded from the dungeon, no words of comfort, no promises that everything would be alright. Instead, a bitter reality echoed that no one wanted her to live.
Claire watched the backs of the two men as they slowly disappeared into the darkness, clutching the dagger tightly, her body trembling with unbearable sadness and disillusionment.
Abandoned by all, betrayed even by her own family, she pondered bitterly, "Is this what life is supposed to be?"