Dianna's account
Maybe if he hadn't come to my rescue that night, my life wouldn't have taken this dark turn...
I am Dianna, no surname because I refuse to accept my husband's name since I never consented to the marriage in the first place. I am a witch, but I have never performed magic because werewolves hate witches, and I live in their kingdom.
My husband bought me at a young age and groomed me into the woman he wants—the woman he can control using any means, violent or not. I have no aspirations in life because a slave is only supposed to be grateful that they breathe the same air as their masters.
Amongst slaves, I am considered lucky since I am supposed to be the wife of one of the most influential men in the Swan Galacia kingdom. He is of royal blood and holds the titles of Lord High Chancellor and Treasurer.
He has enough power to make the king cautious of him and is also a powerful werewolf. Many women wanted him, and he entertained them; he was, after all, a physically desirable man.
Though he looked like he was in his early forties, he was much older, and I hated everything about him. In fact, I wake up every day and pray to the werewolf goddess Serina that he dies in his sleep, but she has never answered me. I guess since I am not a werewolf, I don't get privileges.
Because my husband seeks my advice from time to time, I am quite versed in politics and can proudly say I contributed significantly to him attaining his current position. But who would believe that? I am nothing but a slave, and even my husband refuses to admit that I have ever done anything for him. That was the life I was stuck in a loop living.
Today, we were at the Crown Prince's homecoming ceremony. I was standing by my husband's side as he conversed with other ministers, events like this bore me to death because I have to maintain a face. Accidentally, I looked into one of the minister's eyes, earning a comment from him.
"Lord Chancellor, your wife seems to be interested in our conversation," the old minister remarked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
Christopher instantly turned to me, his eyes flashing with barely concealed anger, but he kept his smile in place. "This one isn't like your daughter, Minister; she is as dumb as a moose."
The subtle crack in his voice grated against the inner walls of my ears, but to avoid angering him, I forced a smile and looked away. In that instant, the silver mask glinted in the candlelight as he entered the hall, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity.
Did I forget to mention that it was a masked ball? Well, that was because the women here were the only ones not following the theme of the party. All the laughter around me died down as my eyes locked on his.
He was a well-built werewolf, and even though he was across the room, I could feel the raw power oozing from him. Something about him made my magic-binding bracelet tingle like never before.
But the world around me quickly came back to life when gasps of shock waves through the room. Slowly, my gaze traveled around the room, and I instantly realized that they were staring at me.
I smiled nervously, wishing for the eyes to shift, but they didn't. I wondered what caused their reaction when a huge hand landed on my face, covering almost all my features.
No exaggeration, I felt my jaw shift out of place, accompanied by the ringing in my ears. "How dare you?!" Christopher roared and proceeded to hit me again, causing me to fall to the floor.
It was only then that I realized my magic-binding bracelets were glowing red. I shook my head, crawling back from the advancing Christopher. "My lord, I didn't mean to do it, I swear I had no control over it."
He wasn't listening to me. Instead, He dragged me out of the hall, the cold marble floor scraping against my knees, the sound of gasps and whispers echoing behind us. I didn't need to be told that I would be paralyzed tomorrow because I knew he wouldn't forgive me for this.
I was the only witch in the kingdom because the others had been executed for something similar to what just happened, but in my case, I didn't try to attack anyone like they did.
The power binds only weaken once a year, and during that time, most witches try to escape using their powers. But for someone like me, who had never practiced magic, it was a foreign feeling, and I had no idea what or how to do anything.
But my husband wouldn't hear me. I shut my eyes, tears sliding through the cracks as he dragged me to his private garden.
"What did you do that for?" he barked, his voice seething with rage. "You have a death wish, don't you?"
"My lord, I swear, it was an accident," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper.
My head hung low as I awaited his beatings. Answering him would not help my situation, and neither would silence.
He grabbed me by the neck, forcing me to look into his eyes. "So this was your plan all along, right? You wanted to humiliate me, right?" I gave no answer because it was useless. It fueled his rage. He struck a blow to my stomach, causing me to collapse to the ground.
"Answer me, you wretched bitch!" he yelled before throwing a kick to my stomach. Blood gushed from my mouth as I clenched my stomach in pain. "You want to leave me so bad that you do this, right? Answer me!"
Again, I said nothing, only shutting my eyes to receive more kicks. I knew he wouldn't hurt my face like he did in the hall. He only did that to please the ministers. According to him, my face was his treasure, so he preferred to harm any other part of my body.
I lay on the floor, my body broken and battered, my eyes closed, willing the darkness to claim me. I felt the whoosh of air from his foot, and I shut my eyes tightly, expecting impact.
"Uncle, is that truly more important than welcoming me after not seeing me for years?" a voice said from behind, calm and authoritative. I opened my eyes to see the silver mask coming into view.
My chest tightened, and my pulse quickened as I gazed at the stranger, his piercing eyes holding me captive as his mask fell off his face.
But that wasn't the most shocking thing; my mouth dropped when Christopher went down on one knee, excitement in his voice as he greeted the stranger. "My prince, how have you been?"