Two guards appeared at the doorway.
Her voice was sharp, slicing through the silence like a dagger.
"Pin her down!"
My blood ran cold.
Lisbeth had always been the kind of mother who wanted to live through her daughters. Since the prettiest one turned out dull, she polished the dull one—until iris shone. She never chased her own dreams, so her children were expected to fulfill them for her. But when they strayed from her path, her fury burned with holy purpose.
"No, don't touch me!" I screamed, struggling as the guards seized me by the wrists.
"Ena, please," Lisbeth said sweetly now, her voice honeyed but hiding thorns. "This is all for your honor. Put your pretty mind at ease—just like always."
Just like always?
Was this not the first time?
She turned to the physician and smiled. "Confirm her purity. Quickly."
He opened his suitcase and pulled out a grotesque object—a milky white pearl, smooth and sickening. My stomach turned.
I writhed harder. "You can't! I won't let you put that in me!"
"You are in no position to refuse," Lisbeth hissed, her mouth brushing my ear. "This isn't a game. You are Iris Tahenna, daughter to Lord Cedric, the crown prince's fiancée. Your worth is measured by your virtue."
Damn it. I had forgotten about the engagement.
Still, that didn't matter now. I had to avoid contracting whatever disease that grimy pearl had touched.
"It looks filthy," I spat. "When was the last time you disinfected that thing?"
The physician frowned, visibly annoyed. He rummaged through his case and pulled out a small red vial.
"What… what is that?" I stammered, backing into the headboard.
"Your mind is ill, my lady," he said coldly. Whatever he held, I knew it wasn't going to fix anything.
Panic surged. With a desperate twist, I thrashed my body and broke free. One guard stumbled. I yanked my wrist away and stumbled backward, scanning the room for anything—anything—I could use. Then something surfaced from my memory.
A character I had written.
The physician who served the Count's house.
He had a secret weakness—greed, masked behind false humility. I remembered what he wanted more than anything.
"I wasn't touched," I blurted. "I was looking for the Gilded Heart flower."
His eyes flickered. The room shifted.
Recognition—and greed—lit up his face. He swallowed the bait.
"Did you find it?" Lisbeth asked sharply, her voice suddenly tight.
"No. He drowned me."
Wait—was that how Iris ended up in the stream? I couldn't remember.
"Maq drowned you?" Lisbeth asked, now visibly shaken. Her breathing quickened, her eyes reddened with rage.
Wait—she knew Maq?
"I hated that man," she hissed. "Well, he got what he deserved."
That didn't sound reassuring. Her tone was too final.
She noticed my wary expression. "He's dead. Your virtue is safe."
My hands trembled. Was Lisbeth truly this cruel? This calculated?
"I would like to examine her now," the physician said suddenly, "alone."
Lisbeth narrowed her eyes but eventually nodded.
"My nurse will remain," she said curtly, then swept out, leaving the door open behind her.
The nurse stood near the window, silent, unreadable.
The physician turned back to me, his voice hushed.
"Did you find it?"
"No," I said quickly, adjusting my nightgown and climbing out of bed. "But I know where it might be."
He paused, curiosity furrowing his brow.
"The last flower of its kind bloomed on this isle," he said slowly, eyes gleaming. "Where exactly did he say it bloomed?"
Before I could answer, Lisbeth strode back in, her eyes wild. "So?"
"She's intact, my lady," the physician said smoothly. "The water only muddled her thoughts."
He snapped his case shut and walked to the coffee table. He placed two vials on its polished surface.
Then he leaned toward me and whispered, so only I could hear:
"Help me find it—and I'll grant you one wish."
And then he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the room thick with silence and tension.
The nurse didn't move. Her eyes were on the floor, hands folded. Was she loyal to Lisbeth? To the physician? Or merely a witness?
I reached for the vials—both unmarked, glowing faintly.
One was blue. The other, a dull amber.
I didn't touch them. But I knew what they were. The blue one darkened Iris' hair while the other one made her eyes amber.
Instead, I sat back on the bed and stared out the window, heart pounding. I needed a plan. I couldn't rely on lies forever. Eventually, someone would demand proof of the flower—or call my bluff.
A knock sounded.
Not the door. The wall. Three knocks, soft but distinct.
I froze.
The nurse looked up, lips pressed tight. She whispered, "Don't react."
Then louder, she said, "Would you like some tea, my lady?"
She walked to the adjoining room before glancing back, her voice a breath: "Tomorrow. Midnight. The library."
Then she was gone.