My Prince Cut Off My Arm for His Mistress

I couldn't take it anymore.

The memory of Kendra's blood staining the snow haunted me every night. Her back would bear those scars forever—because of me. Because she'd tried to protect me.

My legs still ached from kneeling in the cold, but the pain in my heart was worse. I'd once believed Royal's love was real. Now I knew better.

I found him in his chambers, alone for once. Maren and Arianna weren't there, nor did I hear any servants moving about. This might be my only chance.

"Royal," I said, my voice barely a whisper as I entered without knocking.

He looked up from his desk, irritation flashing across his face. "Lina. You should learn to announce yourself."

I couldn't do this standing. My legs gave out, and I fell to my knees before him—the same position I'd been forced into on my birthday, but this time by choice.

"What is this?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"I can't do this anymore," I said, forcing myself to meet his eyes. "Please. Release me."

Something dangerous flickered across his face. "Release you?"

"Let me go," I pleaded. "I'm not your pet. I'm not your shield. I'm a person—the person who saved your life."

His expression hardened. "And this is how you repay me? By demanding your freedom?"

"I remember the river," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "I remember how you looked at me there. How you held me. How you promised we'd be together."

Royal stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "You remember nothing but a fantasy."

"It wasn't a fantasy!" My voice broke. "You loved me there. You said you did."

"And now you think you can what? Remind me of my obligations?" He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You're nothing but a convenience, Lina. A tool."

I flinched at each word, but pressed on. "Then let me go. If I'm nothing to you, let me disappear."

Royal's face transformed, rage replacing indifference. "You dare ask for freedom? After everything I've given you?"

"Given me?" I echoed, disbelief washing over me. "What have you given me except humiliation and pain?"

His hand shot out, gripping my chin painfully. "Ungrateful little rat," he hissed. "You think you can just walk away from me?"

He released me with a shove and strode to the door. "Guards!"

Two men appeared instantly—the same ones who had whipped Kendra.

"Take her to Victor Sterling," Royal ordered, not even looking at me now. "Tell him she's his to do with as he pleases."

"No!" Terror seized me as the guards grabbed my arms. "Royal, please!"

But he was already turning away, dismissing me from his life as easily as brushing lint from his jacket.

---

The guards dragged me through the city streets, their grip bruising my arms. I struggled against them, but more out of desperation than hope.

"Please," I begged as they stopped before an ornate building with black windows. "Don't do this."

The larger guard sneered. "Orders from Prince Royal himself. You should have been grateful for his generosity."

Generosity. The word echoed hollowly as they pushed me through the door.

Victor Sterling was waiting inside—a tall, thin man with eyes like a vulture's.

"So this is Royal's little charity case," he said, circling me slowly. "Not much to look at, is she?"

"Prince Royal says she's yours now," the guard replied. "Do what you want with her."

Victor's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Wonderful. I've always wanted to break one of Royal's toys."

He snapped his fingers, and two women appeared—both dressed in scraps of fabric that barely covered them.

"Take her to the cellar," Victor instructed. "Teach her what's expected here."

The cellar was damp and cold, lit only by flickering candles. They stripped me of my clothes—the last remnants of my dignity—and dressed me in something that could hardly be called clothing.

"You'll serve drinks tonight," one of the women told me, her voice flat with resignation. "Don't spill. Don't speak unless spoken to. And don't fight the customers."

"I can't do this," I whispered, crossing my arms over my exposed body.

The woman's expression softened slightly. "You can, and you will. Or they'll make it worse."

As the night wore on, I learned what she meant. My hidden strength—the power that had helped me rescue Royal from the river—became my only weapon. I used it to carry heavy trays, to fend off wandering hands, to keep standing when exhaustion threatened to bring me to my knees.

But with each passing hour, something inside me cracked a little more. The Lina who had loved Royal by the river was fading, replaced by someone harder, colder.

Someone who might survive this hell after all.