Abella knocked on the dark wooden door and waited patiently. She didn't come often, but when she did, it was always because Duke Silverstein called for her. I wonder why he called me. A small flower of hope bloomed in Abella's mind as her imagination ran with fantasies of possible reasons. Perhaps he called me because he wants to see me. She hoped silently. But even on her most recent birthday, her fourteenth, Duke Silverstein hadn't so much as looked at her, much less called her to his office to personally wish her happy birthday. The chances were slim, but Abella remained positive.

"Come in," Duke Silverstein's cold, stoic voice cut through the silence, breaking Abella's train of hopeful thoughts. Taking a deep breath, Abella put a bright smile on her face and opened the door.

"Father--!" she beamed, but was cut off sharply by the Duke.

"Abella," he cut her off with a firm word. "Refined ladies of high society do not raise their voices or show such naive emotions. Do you understand?" 

"Y-Yes," Abella murmured, her hopes all but gone, but her smile still remaining.

"I will make this short and get straight to the point; I'm very busy right now." Duke Silverstein was a man who didn't like beating around the bush or sugar-coated words. Abella knew that better than any of her more loved siblings. "You are to marry the Crown Prince."

The Crown Prince? Abella wondered. She had always studied hard, and knew quite a bit about the political stances of each prince. She also knew that Duke Silverstein supported the Second Prince, Prince Heinrey. Processing her thoughts, Abella decided that the most logical reason as to why she was getting engaged to the Crown Prince was so that Duke Silverstein would always know his movements and perhaps use Abella as some sort of leverage. But Father wouldn't do that to me, Abella concluded, hoping with all her heart that it was merely some misunderstanding on her part.

Duke Silverstein's stoic face creased in a frown. "Remember, Abella, you don't have an opinion in this. You will become the Crown Prince's fiancée."

"Yes, I will." Abella complied.

"Good." Duke Silverstein looked back down at his work. "Now go and pack. You'll be leaving for the Imperial Palace tomorrow morning at dawn, and if you're late, you will walk the full twenty miles there. Understand?"

"Yes, Father."

"Now get out. I'm a busy man," he said, a certain sharpness to his words. Abella bowed and left Duke Silverstein's study. Slightly deflated, Abella walked back to her room and packed her few belongings. Her room resided on the second floor, the same floor as the maids' quarters were on. The other Silverstein children's rooms were all on the third floor, but Abella was glad for that - that way, they couldn't harass her too often. 

After packing, Abella sighed and sat down at the little couch near the window, glancing outside at the sunset sky. It was a beautiful array of pinks and oranges and yellows that painted the sky so marvellously that Abella felt breathless just looking at it. Before she knew it, the sun had completely gone down and the crescent moon was beautifully illuminating the night sky. There were almost no stars, but that just made the moon seem brighter.

Perhaps life at the Imperial Palace won't be that bad, Abella thought optimistically. If only she had known how wrong she would be.

~~~

Abella stood before the palace, blinded by how expensive and pristine it looked. The Imperial Gardens were green and lush and groom flower bushes lines sidewalks. Tall, healthy oak trees were planted as a splash of colour in contrast to the white Imperial Palace, but what stood out to Abella the most was the giant arch that seemed to frame the doorway into the palace.

Seeing the palace made Abella think of Duke Silverstein. Everything was neat and tidy and in order, just like Duke Silverstein. His office was always perfect and clean, and towers of papers, no matter how tall, were still arranged nicely. Abella couldn't help but feel a little down casted remembering her Father. His last words to his daughter had been, 'do not disappoint or embarrass me.' 

What... what did she have to do to be loved? What would it have taken? What could she have done? Abella had worked hard all her life in all areas to try and impress her Father, but nothing had worked. She studied hard and presented the Duke with her final test score of ninety-nine on a scholar-level exam, and all he had said was, 'why did you get that one question wrong? I expected more from you.' She worked hard on swordsmanship. He had said, 'a lady shouldn't do something as unrefined and inelegant as swordsmanship. No one would want to marry a lady with rough hands!'

Shaking negative thoughts from her head, Abella entered the palace with high hopes and a heavy heart. Soon, she met her fiancé, a black-haired, stoic boy who looked to be only a year or two older than her, a stony expression and a hostile aura. He seemed dangerous, was the first thing Abella thought when she saw him. She greeted the Emperor flawlessly, curtsying politely and speaking the correct words according to the set greeting for royalty. When she looked up, she hoped to see a small smile or at least a blank face, but she was taken aback when she saw the Emperor glaring at her with hostility. Looking to her fiancé, she hoped to see a lighter expression, but he had the same expression.

That was when all of Abella's misfortune began. She had never taken part in high society, and didn't know how to speak the way the other noble ladies did. Once the nobles found out about the newest soon-to-be Crown Princess's weakness, Abella was completely trampled on by high society. Rumours spread and harassment only grew worse, and even her siblings joined in indirectly, but Abella could only remain quiet and take it all, believing that the Duke would be proud of her one day if she could bear it all. She lived like this for two years, and just like that, she was sixteen. She was going to be wed to the Crown Prince. The Empire’s official marriageable age was eighteen for the men and sixteen for women, which was perfect timing. In those two years, she avoided the Crown Prince as much as possible and shied away from the Emperor's eyes, but nothing could change the fact that the Crown Prince and Abella were engaged. Also, she reported the Crown Prince's every move that she thought would be useful information to Duke Silverstein.

The day before the wedding, maids had barged in and began to doll Abella up. She had a warm, rose-petal bath and a long massage. She was given intensive skincare, and only one meal for the entire day to keep her figure slim for the wedding. As she ate her small meal, a sudden intense burning feeling rose up in her throat. She dropped her plate and it shattered on the ground. She clawed at her throat, barely able to breathe yet breathing hard. 

"H-H-Help--!" she managed to call out to the maids. She looked up as she fell onto the floor, and was taken aback by the maids' expressions. None of them moved to help her, nor did they seem to care that she was dying.

One maid smirked and came over. Relieved that someone was willing to help her, Abella reached out a shaking hand, but the maid stomped on her hand and Abella winced as her hand slammed painfully into the ground. Abella, using the last of her strength, looked up at the maid. The maid was smirking. She seemed happy. Terrified, Abella could almost feel her death already. The maid didn't have an ounce of pity or any sort of negative emotion in her cold eyes as she smirked, "Duke Silverstein says, 'thank you for being so useful all this time. Goodbye.'"

The realisation hit Abella. It had been her Father's doing? But... but Father... he would never. I-I was so useful to him. I gave him all that information and dirt on the Crown Prince that I could find. Abella thought desperately. Why? Why would he? How could he? She opened her mouth to curse her Father one last time before her imminent death, but she didn’t manage to before she felt all her strength disappear from her, and she collapsed on the floor at death's door. 

But even as she took her last struggled breath, she couldn't bring herself to hate her Father.