FORGOTTEN WIFE: let the traitor kneel down

Notice to the readers: This story has been reproduced exclusively for free reading purposes. I make no claims of ownership or authorship—all rights remain with the original creator. ----- April sat on the bed, hugging her knees. The cold winter air pierced her bones like sharp thorns. She tried to cover her small, delicate body as best she could, but the abandoned palace where she had been sent offered no warmth, no shelter—only emptiness. She was the first daughter of the King of Venobich, a cruel and ruthless man who saw his children as nothing more than tools for his own gain. In the kingdom of Laios, the firstborn was always the heir to the throne, regardless of gender. But the king refused to accept a small, sickly girl as his successor. So, he banished April to the most remote part of the palace, leaving her to waste away in silence. Yet, April clung to life with all her strength. She survived on a single meal a day, enduring conditions no child should. She did not give up. She refused to. In the quiet of her solitude, through tears and trembling whispers, she repeated the same desperate plea: "I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. God, if you’re listening, please help me. I don’t want to die." Every day, those words left her lips, over and over again. No one understood why someone so weak, so unfortunate, kept fighting to live. One day, the maid who brought her food—her only source of human contact—finally asked her: "Why do you still want to live? Wouldn't it be easier to just let go? That way, all your pain and suffering would disappear." April was twelve. For six long years, she had endured a living hell. But she never surrendered to the claws of death, even as they whispered in her ear, urging her to stop fighting. As she hungrily devoured the thick soup before her, she looked up at the maid and replied, "Then why don’t you jump from the highest tower in this castle?" The maid recoiled. "Are you insane? If I did that, I’d die!" April simply stared at her, her hollow eyes filled with a quiet, unshaken resolve. "You see, just as your life is valuable to you, my life is valuable to me. So stop asking me to die—because I won’t." April continued eating in silence. When she finished, the maid took the tray, the plates completely empty—she had not left a single crumb. After the maid left, April turned to the window. Outside, the snow had begun to pile up. As she gazed at the vast, white world beyond, she lifted her eyes to the sky, pressing her hands together in prayer. "I don't want to die. Please, God, don’t let me die." She repeated that same prayer every day, through three more winters. Then, in the spring of her fifteenth birthday, something changed. The servant who always brought her food arrived with a beautiful dress, delicate jewelry, and ornaments for her hair. "Why did you bring all this?" April asked, her voice laced with curiosity and suspicion. "His Majesty ordered it. He wants you to be dressed beautifully—he wishes to see you." Nine years had passed since April last saw her father. She still remembered the cruel words he had spat at her in disgust. "I don’t need a crippled daughter as my heir. So just die already." "Do you know why he wants to see me?" she asked, her voice steady but wary. "I don’t," the servant replied. "He only told me to hurry." Without another word, the maid prepared a bath. The water was freezing. April’s thin body shuddered violently as it poured over her, but the maid showed no mercy. It was a long, torturous process—she had to be spotless. When the ordeal finally ended, the maid helped her dress. She was clad in a pristine white gown, its fabric soft against her skin. Two delicate flower ornaments were placed on either side of her long, reddish hair. Light makeup was carefully applied to her pale face. Finally, the maid fastened a small necklace around her neck—a teardrop-shaped sapphire resting just above her heart. The maid guided April to a broken mirror in the corner of the room. She looked at her reflection—despite the harsh conditions she had endured, she was undeniably beautiful. Her long, reddish hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her pale, almost flour-like skin was untouched by the sun, a result of years spent locked away in the cold, desolate palace. Her golden eyes gleamed with a quiet intensity, and her mistletoe-red lips appeared delicate yet striking. As April studied her reflection, the maid placed the final ornament from the box into her hair—a fine, delicate veil. The moment she saw it, April understood. She was to be married. Since death had not claimed her, her father had found another way to rid himself of her—through marriage. April said nothing. She only wished that wherever she was being sent, it would be a better place than this prison she had called home. --- "That’s all. Please follow me—His Majesty is waiting for you." April walked through the halls of the palace with a calm, unhurried pace. As she passed, murmurs rose among the courtiers and servants. "Who is she? Where did she come from?" The striking red hair was unmistakable—a rare trait of the Venobich royal bloodline. And yet, no one seemed to remember that she was the first princess of Laios. April ignored the whispers, her expression unreadable. She was led to the grand throne room. She did not bow. She did not greet the man seated before her—the man who regarded her with cold contempt. The king's voice broke the silence. "My dear daughter, I see that you have grown beautifully." The words were laced with feigned sweetness, but to April, they felt like nothing more than an insult. A malicious smile spread across her father’s face as he continued. "Today, you will be sent to the Kingdom of Cosset. Due to the ongoing wars, I have decided to send my most beloved daughter to form a peace alliance." April did not complain or protest. She simply stood there, listening to her father’s words, waiting for it all to be over. The dress she wore was heavy and uncomfortable, and the shoes—something she was not accustomed to—were painfully tight, making her feet ache. "Dear daughter, I hope you have a good life with your husband." The king gestured toward a group of guards clad in pristine white uniforms. They were soldiers from the Kingdom of Cosset. With a practiced smile, he addressed them. "Please escort my precious daughter carefully." The guards approached April and spoke politely. "Please follow us. A carriage is waiting for you." She did not say goodbye. She did not bow. Without a single glance back, she turned and followed the guards. As he watched her leave, her father uttered one final phrase. "May the light of Airón be with you." To the unfamiliar ears of the Cosset soldiers, the words sounded like a warm blessing. But to those from the Kingdom of Laios, their true meaning was unmistakable—"May death come to visit you soon." Although April had spent her life locked away without a formal education, she had learned to read before her exile. In her years of solitude, she devoured every book she could find. She knew exactly what her father’s words meant. Still, she did not turn back. She walked with her head held high, ignoring the world around her. Outside the palace gates, a grand white carriage adorned with golden embellishments awaited her. One of the guards helped her climb inside. April gazed out the window as the carriage began to move. The palace—the only home she had ever known—grew smaller in the distance. She had thought she might feel something as she left her place of origin. Regret. Relief. Sorrow. But there was nothing. No grief. No joy. No sadness. No emotion at all. She reached for the curtain and gently pulled it shut. In the dim solitude of the carriage, she whispered to herself. "I hope my life in the Kingdom of Cosset will be better than it was here."