A noise, the deep thud of drums, startled me awake from my restless sleep. My body felt heavy, as if all the exhaustion of the past weeks had been pressed onto me.
I blinked into the dimness of my room, the walls silent, the corners empty. Once, the maids used to move about here—folding clothes, sweeping, bringing in trays of warm food—but now… I did everything alone.
They had ordered the maids to stop coming. No one cooked for me anymore. No one cleaned my room. I was left to scrub the floor, sweep away the dust, and wash my own sheets. Me, the Luna—reduced to nothing but a servant for myself.
I sighed and turned over, burying my face into the pillow.
I had already told them. I demanded a divorce. I told them to let me go, to free me from this prison of humiliation. But they refused.
