Gracie Kubas

The hallways of the Kubas estate felt darker now that Fritz was gone, but I knew it wasn’t the absence of light. It was the weight of everything he left behind, pressing down on me with each step I took. In the days following his funeral, I did what I had always been expected to do: manage.

I hadn’t cried since his death. Not once. I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed that luxury, not with the estate’s affairs piling up, the children needing to be looked after, and the noble families whispering behind my back. It was all too much, and yet, not enough to break me. I refused to be broken. Not again.

As I walked through the halls, I found myself drifting back to the beginning. It was impossible not to. The memories of my forced marriage at thirteen clung to me like shadows, always lurking just beneath the surface of my thoughts.

Thirteen. A child. I barely understood what it meant to be a wife when they told me I was to marry Fritz Kubas. I had no choice in the matter. My family saw it as a political move, a way to secure power and status. But for me, it was the beginning of my imprisonment. Fritz hadn’t been kind. He had been controlling, cruel at times, and although I didn’t understand it then, I now knew that what I endured was abuse.

The bruises on my soul ran deeper than any physical mark he left on me. His words, his expectations—they shaped me into something I didn’t recognize. I had to survive, had to endure, for the sake of the title, for the sake of the children I was charged with raising, even though they weren’t mine.

Now, standing here as the head of this estate, I should have felt some measure of triumph. I had outlasted him. But there was no victory in this life, only a bitter taste of duty and a reminder that this had never truly been my home.

“Lady Gracie?” a voice pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see Aura standing in the doorway, her expression blank as usual. “Carlo is asking for you.”

Carlo. The eldest. The one I had spent the most time with, not that it seemed to matter. At fourteen, he had barely spoken to me after his father’s death, his resentment festering beneath the surface. It was subtle, a coldness that lingered in his eyes whenever we interacted. I had tried to train him for the future, for the role he would one day take as the head of the Kubas estate, but nothing I did seemed to bridge the distance between us.

“Thank you, Aura. I’ll see him now,” I said, smoothing down my gown and making my way to Carlo’s study.

The years had passed in a blur. It had been five years since Fritz’s death, and Carlo was now nineteen. He had grown into a strong young man, one who carried himself with the pride and arrogance of a dragon hybrid—just like his father. Despite the tension between us, I couldn’t deny that he was intelligent and capable. I had trained him well, guided him in the affairs of the estate, and ensured that the Kubas name remained powerful.

But it wasn’t enough. I was never enough. The children had never fully accepted me. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried to care for them, they always saw me as an outsider. Someone trying to replace their mother. And no amount of care, no education or provision, could change that. The more I tried to be there for them, the more they pulled away.

Carlo was getting married today. A wedding I had helped prepare for, yet received no formal invitation to. His bride was another dragon hybrid, from a well-established noble family. It was a perfect match, politically and strategically. I had done my best to support him in this arrangement, but even now, as I approached his study, I couldn’t shake the feeling of isolation that had settled deep inside me.

I knocked lightly on the door before entering. Carlo was standing by the window, dressed in formal attire, his back straight and his expression unreadable as he gazed out over the estate grounds.

“You wanted to see me?” I asked, keeping my voice steady, though the silence between us felt like a chasm.

Carlo turned, his eyes meeting mine briefly before he looked away. “Yes. I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for the family over the years.”

His words were polite, measured, but I knew they lacked the warmth of genuine appreciation. It was a formality, nothing more. I swallowed the lump that rose in my throat. This was it. My moment of acknowledgment. The only recognition I was going to get.

“You’re welcome,” I replied quietly, my hands clasping in front of me. “I did what I could.”

He nodded, as if that was all that needed to be said. As if I were merely a figure in the background of his life. He turned back to the window, dismissing me without a word.

I stood there for a moment longer, staring at his back, feeling the weight of the years between us. The unspoken words. The unacknowledged efforts. The distance that would never be closed.

“I wish you happiness, Carlo,” I whispered, knowing he wouldn’t respond. And he didn’t.

With that, I turned and left the room, my heart heavy as I made my way down the hall. The wedding preparations were in full swing, the entire estate buzzing with excitement. But I wasn’t a part of it. I never had been.

As I passed by the children’s rooms, I heard the laughter of Aura and Cliff, their excitement palpable. They were preparing for the wedding too, eagerly anticipating the celebration. Even Wilbert, now eleven, had a bounce in his step, the promise of a grand event fueling his energy.

I wasn’t angry at them. I couldn’t be. They had always been well taken care of, given the best education and every luxury. I had done my duty. But I had never been able to be their mother, not in the way they wanted or needed. And now, it was clear that there was no place for me here anymore.

By the time the wedding started, I had made my decision. I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t live in this house any longer, a house that had never truly been mine. I packed my things quickly, the few personal items I had, and left without a word. There was no need for goodbyes. No one would notice my absence.

The day had been overcast, a chill in the air as I made my way toward the edge of the estate. The path was familiar, the road that led to the next town where I could start over, where I could find something, anything, that would give my life meaning beyond this house and its cold, distant occupants.

I didn’t know where I was going or what I would do, but for the first time in years, I felt free.

Or at least I thought I did. Until the pain hit.

It was sudden, sharp, a searing agony that shot through my chest. My vision blurred, and I stumbled, my hand clutching at my heart as the world around me tilted. I gasped, struggling to understand what was happening, but the pain was too much, too overwhelming.

I fell to the ground, my breath coming in ragged gasps as darkness crept in at the edges of my vision. I tried to push myself up, tried to call out for help, but no sound escaped my lips.

And then, everything went black.

The last thought that passed through my mind was simple, clear, and filled with sorrow: I never belonged here.