The carriage ride from the palace to the Norse estate stretched on like a sentence passed in silence. Only the muffled rattle of wheels over uneven stone and the occasional hiss of wind through majestic trees lining the road disturbed the oppressive stillness.
Mira sat rigidly, her hands clenched in her lap, wrapped tightly in Peredur’s cloak. But no fabric could shield her from the shame that burned through her skin like acid—raw, consuming, inescapable.
Percival and Peredur sat beside her, their faces grave, their silence louder than any words. Gideon had taken the other carriage with Lara and Asael, and even that knowledge gnawed at Mira’s already fraying composure.
She didn’t cry. She couldn’t. Tears would only make her look weaker—and she knew better than to show weakness in front of her family.
By the time they arrived at the estate, night had swallowed the horizon. The grand doors loomed open, as though the manor itself had anticipated her disgrace. Waiting atop the steps stood General Odin, her father, flanked by her mother, Lady Freya. Neither wore sorrow on their faces. None of them wore expressions of concern.
"Inside," General Odin barked. "Now."
Mira descended the carriage slowly, her limbs aching, her pride in tatters and dragging behind her like a torn train. Servants turned their eyes away as she passed, but whether out of obedience or disgust, she couldn’t tell.
She crossed the threshold into the main hall and barely had time to breathe before the door slammed behind her. The heavy sound echoed like a verdict.
Freya was the first to speak, her voice as brittle as frost.
Mira opened her mouth, but no words came. How could she explain that it wasn’t supposed to be her but their precious daughter, Lara? How could she make them understand that she had been schemed against and the plot they hatched had backfired?
"I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was framed," she said at last, hoarse, almost inaudible.
"Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mean to destroy what reputation this family still clings to," Lady Freya said, her voice icy. "You were simply dragged into the Crown Prince’s bed, torn and half-naked?"
"Mira." Her father’s voice cut through the room like a guillotine. "Look at me."
Her cheek still throbbed from Reuben’s slap, her lips pale and trembling, but she lifted her gaze.
"Did you offer yourself to the Prince?" Odin asked, his voice was like thunder.
"No!" The word burst out of her. "I drank the tea—Ceres gave it to me. She drugged it. I—"
"Enough," Gideon snapped, his voice low but laced with scorn. "You’re accusing a princess now? Are you mad? Do you understand what you’ve done?"
"I didn’t want this," she pleaded, her voice cracking. "I swear, I’m innocent—"
"Are you?" Gideon said, his gaze colder than steel. It pierced through her, laid her soul bare.
"Mira." Her father’s voice was harder than stone. "Look at me in the eye."
She did. Her cheek still stung from Reuben’s slap, her lips were bloodless, but she obeyed.
"Did you offer yourself to the Prince?" Odin asked.
"No!" Mira cried, voice finally rising. "It was a mistake. I drank the tea Ceres gave me. She drugged it. I—"
Then Asael’s voice, quiet but deliberate, cut through the storm.
"They weren’t aiming for her."
Mira’s heart skipped a beat. Did Asael know something?
"The teacup was meant for Lara, to force her into bed with the prince. Make her his willing bride," Asael continued. "Somehow, it was switched with Mira’s."
Mira’s breath caught. Her heart pounded.
Freya’s face turned to stone. "What did you say?"
"NO! It is not like that." Mira cried, her voice breaking this time.
Freya stood frozen for some time before she found her voice. "What did you say, Asael?" She asked a second time.
"Mother, the teacup was intended for Lara. But somehow, it was swapped with that of Mira’s."
Mira’s world tilted. The weight of it all—the betrayal, the humiliation—collapsed inward. Her vision blurred with rage. Lara. She switched the teacup.
Before reason could catch her, Mira lunged.
"Lara!" she screamed, hands outstretched like claws. "You did this to me! You ruined me!"
"It shouldn’t have been me! Why was it me?" She raged like a madwoman.
Mira surged forward—but a figure stepped between them. A thunderous slap cracked through the hall. Freya’s palm had found her face.
"And who should it have been, Mira?" she shouted, shaking with fury. "Lara? How dare you? We raised you as one of our own. And this is how you repay us? How could you plan to harm her and the most cruel way?"
The sting jolted Mira back to herself. She stumbled, her knees buckling beneath her. She cradled her face, tears finally spilling, hot and bitter.
"I didn’t... I would never hurt her. I swear!" she sobbed. "It was Princess Ceres—and Prince Reuben. He wanted Lara. He wanted to trap her into marriage."
Silence hung heavy in the room, broken only by Mira’s sobs and Freya’s heavy breathing.
The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Only Mira’s sobs and Freya’s labored breaths filled the air.
Then Lara, composed and almost eerily calm, stepped forward and clasped her mother’s hand.
"I’m fine, Mother. I wasn’t harmed."
"I am the one who was hurt, Mother. How can I face people now?" Mira cried even more pitifully.
Freya pulled her daughter into her arms, holding her like something precious and fragile. Then she turned to her husband, her face a mask of frost.
"She’s your niece. You deal with her."
Mira froze. Your niece. The words struck like ice to the heart. What did she mean by that?
Gideon and Asael lingered a moment longer. Their eyes held only disappointment—sharp, stinging—and then they too turned and walked away. The twins followed, silent shadows.
Odin exhaled heavily. "Take her to her room. See to her bruises."
"Yes, My Lord," Mira’s maid murmured, stepping forward with a bow.
Then Odin, too, was gone.
Mira sat there long after they were gone, still wearing Peredur’scloak. The only kindness shown to her in a night that had shattered her.
And somewhere in her soul—beneath the grief, beneath the humiliation—a seed of rage took root.
And her so-called family. One day, they would all regret humiliating her, especially Lara.