The Orphan Crown

The Orphan's Debt (2)

Yet now, he was the one wielding the dagger to cut across the newly sprouted horn on her forehead.

"Ah… um…!"

The pain surged violently, as if her entire body were being torn apart. It pierced through every cell, straight to her heart, causing Franziska's eyes to widen.

But before she could utter a sound, a rough, calloused hand, hardened by frequent sword use, covered her mouth and nose.

Biden.

Aki and Lia each held one side of Franziska's body, preventing her from struggling. Jen quickly cut another short section from the remaining horn. His movements were neat and decisive, completely disregarding the body trembling with pain under his hands.

Biden glanced at the young face, which was gradually turning pale. He maintained his expressionless demeanor, only slightly frowning when he felt the intertwined hot and cold sensations, along with sweat and tears, soaking into his palm.

That bothered him.

Franziska looked at him too.

Her pale blue eyes, usually clear and gentle, were now dull, vacant, and almost devoid of emotion.

From the day she was taken in by Lady Catrina, and standing before the magnificent Crozier palace, Franziska never dared hope that she would truly become part of the family.

She lived a secluded, obedient, and silent life, like a puppet.

Because Princess Rebecca, the only daughter of the Crozier family, disliked her.

What happened that night left two small wounds on Franziska's body, but it opened up a debt in her heart that no one mentioned.

From then on, she began to understand that everything the Crozier family gave her had a price. The spacious room, the beautiful dresses, the tonics, and even the title of adopted daughter—none of it truly belonged to her.

In return, she had to obediently stay in the mansion, always be healthy, and give the Crozier family what they needed most: her blood, horns, and her healing abilities.

That night, Franziska still didn't know why Rebecca had allowed those people to do that, nor did she know how the Princess was involved. She only knew that from the next day on, the gazes of those around her had changed.

No longer the gazes of those caring for a child.

But the gazes of those checking how long a medicinal potion could be used.

Franziska didn't tell anyone about what had happened. She had no evidence, and didn't know who to turn to for help. Moreover, she still feared losing the only place she could call home.

She continued to be obedient, continued to smile, and continued to believe that as long as she didn't cause trouble, everything would go back to normal.

But she was wrong.

Years later, Franziska understood that night wasn't an isolated incident, nor was it the momentary act of a few servants. That was the first time she realized the debt the Crozier family had secretly inscribed upon her—a debt to be repaid with blood, etched onto those two tender horns.

At that time, Franziska was still just an eight-year-old child clinging to the little warmth that remained in the house she still called family.