Voices gather outside. Guards,Townspeople.Lucy runs to the door and throws it open.
Lucy said pointing "She killed them!"Mallory tries to speak—but no one listens.She stands there…in her night dress… wrapped in a shawl… completely defenseless.
Hands grab her.She struggles and says "I didn't do this!"But it doesn't matter because no one believes her.
A prison door slams shut.Darkness,silence.
———
Moments later, the prison door creaked open.
Mallory was dragged out, her wrists bound, the cold iron biting into her skin. She had been waiting,waiting for someone to prove her innocence, waiting for a voice to speak for her.
Then she saw him.Her cousin's fiancé Victor Montclair.A nobleman.
For the first time since her arrest, something flickered in her chest. Hope.
If anyone would help her, it would be him.
She was led into the interrogation chamber. Dim light. Stone walls. Silence that pressed against her skin.
He stood waiting.
"Mallory," he said softly, almost gently. " I heard about what happened I'm sorry for your loss"
Mallory looked away. "I know," she said softly. "It still doesn't feel real."Her breath caught. "You're here to help me… aren't you?"
A pause.
His expression shifted to something unreadable, something colder than she expected.
"I came to offer you a way out," he said.Relief almost broke through her chest.Then he stepped closer."But not the kind you think."
Mallory's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
His voice dropped. "Stay with me. Become my mistress, and I'll ensure your survival."
Silence.
The words sank in slowly, like poison spreading through water.
Mallory let out a quiet breath, steadying herself.
"I would rather rot in prison," she said clearly, "than be anyone's mistress."
Something dark flashed across his face.For a moment, the room felt smaller.
He turned away, as if already done with her"Take her back," he ordered coldly.The guards moved immediately.Mallory didn't resist.
As she was dragged out, her last glance stayed on him not with fear, but with something sharper.
Disgust.
And the beginning of something far more dangerous than hope.
⸻
The cell door slammed shut behind her.
Metal echoed through the corridor, then silence returned—heavy, suffocating, alive.
Mallory stood still for a moment, her wrists still sore from the chains. The air inside the cell was damp and cold, clinging to her skin like it didn't want her there.
Slowly, she sank onto the narrow stone bench.
So this was it.
Her first night in prison.
Somewhere far above, the kingdom continued as if she didn't exist.
She exhaled quietly, staring at the floor. Her mind replayed everything—her aunt's rage, the accusations, the nobleman's offer, his eyes when he said it.
A mistake.
They had turned her into a mistake.
A distant sound broke the silence. Laughter. Chains rattling. A scream cut short somewhere down the corridor.
Mallory's fingers tightened slightly in her lap.
She refused to break.
Footsteps passed her cell. Slow. Intentional. Then stopped.
A shadow lingered at the bars.
"Fresh one?" a voice murmured from the darkness.
Mallory didn't look up. "Go away."
A soft chuckle. "You won't last long with that attitude."
The footsteps faded again.
Silence returned—but it wasn't empty anymore.
Mallory leaned her head back against the cold stone wall, closing her eyes for just a second.
Just a second.
But sleep didn't come.
Instead, she stayed awake in the dark, learning the sound of the prison… and the truth that no one was coming for her.