The Lost Princess Returns to Punish Her Tormentors

My husband, a man lauded in society's highest circles, sought to make his affair with some fraudulent aristocrat appear legitimate.

To achieve this, he orchestrated my ruin by having his own nephew force himself upon me, his loyal wife.

He then arrived with a mob in tow, intent on catching me in the act.

To further prove his devotion to his mistress, he committed an act of unspeakable brutality and even cut the unborn child from my womb.

After the crowd had their fill of my shame, he leaned close, his voice a cold sneer.

"Forgive me, my dear wife, but I'm the King's Chief Minister now. A rustic village woman like you could never stand beside me."

What he didn't know was that I, the woman he scorned, was the King's long-lost sister.

Only days prior, I had been reunited with our motherthe Queen Mother herself.

It began when I discoveredmy husband Jonathan entangled with that counterfeit noble, Lady Isabella.

Blinded by rage, Jonathan struck my temple, and the world dissolved into blackness.

I awoke disoriented, my gown torn, lying beside his nephewwho was stark naked.

Jonathan chose that moment to burst into the chamber with a horde of our neighbors, there to witness my disgrace.

He made no attempt to pursue the boy as he scrambled out the window.

Instead, he crossed the room and backhanded me across the face, the sting sharp and humiliating.

"You vile creature! I have remained faithful to you through it all. I endured ten years of grueling study by candlelight, all to make you the wife of a Chief Minister!"

"And this is how you repay me? Carrying my child, yet you dare to fornicate with your own nephew? Even the madam of a brothel would blush at your depravity!"

He played the part of the wounded cuckold perfectly, his accusing finger trembling with feigned emotion.

The neighbors, who once offered me kind smiles, now stared with pure contempt, as if I were something foul they'd stepped in.

"So lust-drunk she'd risk her own baby? She's unfit to be a mother!"

"Look at hercommon trash. She's probably bedded every men in the county. A disgrace to us all!"

"A harlot like that ought to be stoned! Let her live, and she'll only destroy more good men!"

For ten long years, I worked my fingers to the bone, weaving until my hands were raw and calloused, all to fund his ambitions.

I knew he wished to discard me, but to protect his own rising reputation, he chose to shatter mine first, casting me as the villain.

Furious, I spat the truth at them allthe sordid affair between Jonathan and Lady Isabella's affair, and how he had framed me.

But no one believed a word. They only pitied Jonathan, the wolf in gentleman's fine wool.

I clenched my fists, my gaze locking with his in defiance. "Jonathan, do you have any idea who I truly am? Tell them the truth to everyone now, or you will regret this for the rest of your miserable life."

Jonathan responded by driving his boot into my chest, his eyes alight with malice. "Who are you? Nothing but a backwater hick! Not only have you shamed me with your whoring, but you dare slander a Lady of the court? You have a death wish."

"And you shall get your wish. By the law of this land, an adulteress is to be drowned."

The brutal kick sent me sprawling to the cold cobblestones. A searing, breathtaking pain exploded through my ribs.

Jonathan truly believed that clinging to Lady Isabella's coattails was his path to glory. The fool had no idea that I had already been recognized by my mother, the Queen Mother.

She had confided in me that royal envoys would arrive today to escort me, the one true lost Princess, back to the palace.

As Robert's words hung in the air, several men moved to seize me.

My jaw was tight. "I am innocent. Every word from Robert's mouth is a lie."

"And how dare you speak of drowning me? Are you not afraid of losing your heads for this?"

Jonathan let out a derisive snort. "What? Do you imagine yourself royalty now? A deceitful slut putting on airs? Do you think we are as stupid as you are?"

"The law is clear. An adulterous wife must be drowned."

"Stop wasting breath on her. Get on with it!"

As the men closed in, their hands rough, a soft, cultured voice cut through the tension. "Wait."

The crowd parted, and there stood Lady Victoria.

Isabella stepped forward, her hand connecting with my cheek in a sharp crack that echoed in the sudden silence.

She wore a mask of righteous indignation, perfectly practiced.

"How dare you," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "A common whore, soiling the name of a Lady of the Court? A quick death is a mercy you haven't earned."

"Someone. Bring me a dagger."

The sting on my face was immediate and hot. I stumbled back, my head ringing.

I glared at her, furious. "You fraud! How dare you act so arrogantly! Do you have any idea who stands before you?"

Isabella took the offered dagger from a servant and advanced toward me. "I don't care who you are. Do you truly believe your status could ever be higher than mine?"

"Destroying you would be no harder than stepping on a bug. Today, you learn the price of defying me."

The cold steel of the blade grazed my cheek.

A cruel, mocking smile twisted her lips.

"I suppose I see it. A certain lowborn cunning in your eyes. No wonder you've been able to lure men to your bed."

"Let's see how well you enchant them when your face is a ruin."

At her nod, her guards gripped my arms, their hold like iron.

As the dagger lifted, poised to fall, I squeezed my eyes and shouted with all my strength, "Halt your hand! I am the King's sister!"

The guards' grips slackened for a fraction of a second.

Isabella's perfectly sculpted brows drew together in a frown. "Did I hear correctly? You claim to be the lost princess?"

My words were like chips of ice.

"I am.The King's own blood, separated at birth. My mother, the Queen Mother, expects my return to the palace today."

"Harm a single hair on my head, and my brother will see every one of you executed for treason!"

I believed the revelation would give them pause.

Instead, a wave of derisive laughter erupted around me. They doubled over, howling as if I'd told the funniest joke in the world.

"How absurd! There is no 'Long-Lost Princess'! If you're going to invent a story to scare us, at least make it believable!"

"The wench must be dreaming! Dressed in rags and claiming a crown? If she's a princess, then I'm the Queen Mother herself!"

Jonathan shot me a look of pure contempt. "A country bumpkin pretending to be royalty? Stop your pathetic groveling."

Isabella's smile was a terrifying thing.

"Spouting delusions with your dying breath? Let me help sober you up."

She moved the dagger not like a weapon, but like an artist's tool, etching lines of searing agony across my cheeks and brow.

The pain was blinding.

Soon, my vision blurred with tears and blood, my face a grotesque, ruined canvas.

Ishook uncontrollably, my screams tearing from my raw throat, each one a fresh wave of humiliation.

The more I screamed, the more wildly Isabella laughed, a high, wild sound.

"Rub salt in the wounds," she commanded her servants. "Let her remember this lesson."

The new pain was so acute I thought I would faint. The blood flowed even more freely.

One of the neighbor women, her face pale, finally found her voice. "My Lady, this...this is too far! The law permits drowning, not...not this torture!"

Isabella fixed a venomous stare on her. "I am a Lady of the Court. The law is what I say it is. Utter another word, and I'll have your tongue for my trophy."

The woman paled and fell silent.

Rage gave me a final, brittle strength. "Isabella! You think your title makes you a goddess?"

"You consort with Jonathan, then torture me like this? When my brother hears of this, he will wipe your entire house from history!"

Her eyes turned crimson with rage. "Still defiant! Guards, strip this bitch bare naked and string her up from that oak! Let the entire village see the whore they've harbored! Let's see if she still dares to flirt then!"

They were on me in an instant, their rough hands tearing at my already torn dress.

I fought, clutching the tattered fabric to my body, my voice a raw command.

"Stay back! I am the Princess! Do you understand what awaits you for this?"

They only laughed, their hands pinching and clawing at my exposed skin, leaving a trail of blooming purple bruises.

"Look at her, pretending to be modest! So virtuous now, when she's been spread for every man in the county!"

"Who does she think she's fooling? As if she's some innocent maiden!"

The more I writhed, the more brutal their pinches became, until the pain was a constant, screaming fire across my body.

Finally, they bound my hands and hung me from a large tree in the courtyard.

Exposed to the entire village, I hung from the oak, my skin prickling under the gaze of the crowd.

Humiliation burned hotter than my wounds. With my hands bound, I could only shut my eyes, trying to retreat into the darkness.

Suddenly, a sharp crack split the air, followed by an explosion of white-hot pain.

A barbed whip tore a strip of flesh from my side

Blood misted the air.

A guttural scream was ripped from me, my eyes flying open against my will.

Isabella stood holding the bloody whip, a triumphant smirk on her lips.

"Keep your eyes open! See how they all look at you! You crave this attention, don't you? This is what you wanted! Don't you dare look away!"

The lash fell again and again, until my body was a ragged map of agony. Throughout it all, my husband Jonathan stood watching, his expression one of cold, detached indifference.

Tears cut clean paths through the blood and grime on my cheeks. "Jonathan! I am your wife! I carried your child! How can you stand by and watch us suffer such humiliation?"

Jonathan let out a derisive snort. "The moment you betrayed me, you ceased to be my wife. And given your whoring, that bastard in your womb was probably never mine to begin with!"

My mention of the child ignited a new, poisonous gleam entered her eyes.

"Ah, yes. The child." She turned to the crowd, her voice rising with theatrical flair. "This unchaste woman seeks to taint my frienda noble Ministerwith a bastard of questionable origin! Can we allow this to happen?"

An uneasy murmur rippled through the crowd. She was skillfully twisting the truth, painting me as a scheming deceiver.

One woman, trying to cling to reason, spoke up timidly. "My Lady, the child is innocent..."

"Innocent?" Isabella cut her off, her voice sharp. "Its very existence is a crime! Its mother's impure blood will poison the entire family's honor. In this kingdom, noble bloodlines permit no blemish."

She scanned the crowd, her gaze threatening. "Anyone who pleads for this whore and the bastard in her womb will make an enemy of my family."

All dissent was crushed. The weight of power, in that moment, was more forceful than any fist.

I was lowered from the tree and crashed heavily onto the ground. I barely registered the pain, my arms flying up to protect my abdomen.

Isabella did not reach for a knife. She merely looked down at me, like a goddess observing an insect.

"Beg me," she said, her voice dripping with catlike cruelty. "If you want this child to ever see the light of this world, get on your knees. Admit all your crimes. Confess that you are a filthy, unfit liar, unworthy of being a mother."

For my child, what wouldn't I sacrifice? My dignity, my pride... everything.

Trembling, I used all my strength to push myself up. Then, before everyone, I knelt to the woman who had destroyed my life. I pressed my forehead against the cold, hard ground.

"I was wrong..." My voice was broken, tears mingling with the dirt. "I shouldn't have defied you... It was all my fault... I beg you, spare my child..."

I kowtowed again and again, until my consciousness began to blur.

Isabella smiled with satisfaction. "Good. Seeing as you are so sincere, I can be merciful. I will allow this child to be born."

I nearly collapsed from relief, a fragile spark of hope igniting within me.

Then, she turned gracefully to face Jonathan.

"But," she said softly, as if discussing what to have for supper, "Jonathan, the final say regarding this child should rest with you, the 'father.' After all, it is your honor at stake."

A cruel smile touched her lips.

"Jonathan, dear, she is your wife, after all. You should be the one to do it."

My eyes widened in fury.

"Isabella! You liar! You said you'd spare my child if I begged you!"

Isabella laughed coldly.

"I said I would spare it. I never said anything about him. You shamed him. You carried another man's child. Jonathan is a Chief Minister now, a man of stature. How can he endure such an insult?"

"Isn't that right, Jonathan?"

She looked straight at Jonathan. This was a test of his loyalty to her.

For the sake of wealth and status, Jonathan felt he had no choice. He took the knife and approached me.

My heart clenched, and tears filled my eyes.

"Jonathan, this child is yours! It's your own flesh and blood! How can you raise a hand against your own child?"

His gaze was dark and furious. "Quiet! This is the result of your sin with that wretch! It is no my child! I will not let this bastard live!"

Jonathan raised the knife and pushed it into my abdomen.

A terrible, overwhelming pain took over my whole body.

Blood poured out, turning the ground red.

Jonathan pulled a small, still form from me. Isabella pretended to be shocked, "Oh my! The bastard was a boy."

Tears fell like a torrential rain, washing over my ruined face.

My heart felt completely broken. The pain was so deep I could barely breathe.

Suddenly, two voices called out from the entrance to the courtyard .

"His Majesty, the King, approaches!"

"Her Majesty, the Queen Mother, approaches!"

Hearing this, everyone stopped moving.

"Why would the King and Queen Mother come to our small village?" someone whispered.

Isabella's eyes lit up. "Jonathan! It must be because you are so famous now! The King has come to see you himself!"

Jonathan, flattered and startled, could think of no other reason. As people praised him, a smug smile spread across his face.

He quickly washed the blood from his hands. He ordered his men to hide my bleeding body behind a large screen so the royal guests would not see it.

When the King and Queen Mother walked in, everyone knelt down to show respect.

"Your Majesty, you need only to call for me. Your visit is a great honors me beyond words," Jonathan said humbly,his head bowed low.

When our mother had visited me before, I had spoken highly of Jonathan. The King, hearing this from her, probably thought well of him.

The King motioned with his hand. "Stand up, good Minister. Now, where is your esteemed wife?"