My Prince Cut Off My Arm for His Mistress

The crystal tower wobbled in my hands as I navigated through the crowd. Every step felt like walking through quicksand, my muscles burning from holding the heavy tray steady. Royal's eyes tracked my movement, that familiar smirk playing on his lips—waiting for me to fail.

"Careful now," Victor hissed beside me. "These glasses cost more than your life."

I focused on each step, ignoring the hostile stares and "accidental" bumps from the nobles surrounding us. Just a few more feet to Royal's table. Just a few more seconds of dignity.

Maren sat like a queen beside him, her custom gown shimmering under the chandelier light. The silk was a deep burgundy that caught every sparkle, making her look like she was draped in liquid rubies. I'd heard the dressmaker say it cost more than most people's homes.

I approached the table, balancing the tower of crystal with practiced precision. Royal held out his glass for a refill, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Careful, Lina," he said, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "These glasses are delicate."

Maren's lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. As I leaned forward to pour, she shifted suddenly in her chair, scooting backward with deliberate force.

My ankle twisted. The tower tilted.

Time slowed.

I lunged forward, desperately trying to steady the glasses. The edge of my tray caught the tablecloth, sending ripples across the white linen. And then—the worst possible outcome—the bottom of the tray brushed against Maren's exquisite gown.

The sound that escaped her lips was something between a shriek and a wail.

"You filthy river rat!" she screamed, leaping to her feet. "You've contaminated my dress! Do you know what this silk costs?"

The room fell silent. Every eye turned toward us.

"I'm sorry," I stammered, my voice barely audible. "It was an accident—"

"An accident?" Maren's voice rose higher, her face contorting with exaggerated disgust. "Look at this! Look what she's done!"

Royal stood slowly, his expression darkening with each passing second. The room seemed to shrink around us as his anger filled the space like smoke.

"Royal," Maren whimpered, clutching his arm. "She did it on purpose. She's always been jealous of me."

I took a step back, my heart hammering against my ribs. "No, I didn't—"

"Silence!" Royal's voice cut through the air like a whip.

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes—something I'd glimpsed before but never directed at me with such intensity. His hand moved to his side, where a ceremonial blade hung in an ornate sheath.

"Royal," I whispered, backing away. "Please—"

His hand shot out, gripping my hair with brutal force. He yanked me forward, dragging me to the center of the club floor. The crowd parted like water, forming a circle around us.

"Everyone sees what happens when my property doesn't know its place," Royal announced, his voice carrying to every corner of the room.

Kendra's voice cut through the murmurs. "Stop this! You can't—"

"Can't I?" Royal's laugh was cold and sharp. "Watch me."

He forced me to my knees, still gripping my hair. With his free hand, he drew the blade from its sheath. The metal gleamed wickedly in the chandelier light.

"Royal, don't!" Kendra screamed, trying to push through the crowd. Guards blocked her path.

"Please," I begged, tears blurring my vision. "Don't do this."

Maren stepped forward, her face twisted with satisfaction. "Teach her a lesson she'll never forget."

Royal's eyes met mine one last time. There was nothing there—no recognition, no mercy, no trace of the man who had once loved me by the river.

"Hold still," he said softly, almost tenderly.

The blade flashed in the light.

Pain exploded through my body—white-hot and all-consuming. I heard someone screaming and distantly realized it was me.

Blood sprayed across the polished floor, splattering across Maren's burgundy gown. She stepped back with a gasp of delight rather than horror.

My vision tunneled. The last thing I saw was my own arm—my left arm—lying on the floor in a spreading pool of crimson.

Then darkness claimed me, and I welcomed it.