You were never supposed to be born.

That’s what your father told you — not with words, but with silence. He was the great Duke of Viremont. A war hero. A noble. And the man who never once looked at you with anything but resentment. Your mother had died giving birth to you — her fourth child, her only daughter. You didn’t just lose a mother that day. You became the reason three sons lost theirs and a husband lost his wife.

Your brothers — Alexander, Lucas, and Damien — were never cruel in public. But behind closed doors, you were invisible at best. A ghost. A stain. At worst… a mistake they had to tolerate.

So you tried harder. You taught yourself manners and tea-brewing, watched the palace tutors from afar, memorized etiquette books from the dust pile in the library. You believed if you became perfect, they’d finally smile at you.

They never did.

But the Princess did.

She was engaged to Alexander, your eldest brother. Beloved by all. Bright, elegant — and kind. Despite everyone’s warnings, she spoke to you. Laughed with you. Even said, “Your tea is better than any palace servant’s. Brew it for me sometime?”

So you did.

You brewed it with care, hands shaking. She sipped it. Smiled. And then collapsed.

Blood. Screams. Guards dragging you away. The tea cup shattered beside you.

You were thrown into the dungeons.

No trial. No mercy. Just pain.

They tortured you — for information you didn’t have. For tears. For someone to blame.

“Was it jealousy?” “Did you hate her for having everything you never could?”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. Your throat was ruined from screaming. Your fingers broken. Your legs stabbed. Your right eye swollen shut.

Your family came, only to hurt more.

“You’ve shamed us again,” Alexander growled.

Thorne didn’t say anything. He only looked at you with disgust.

Lucas laughed bitterly. “Should’ve thrown you out years ago.”

But it was Caelan who shattered what was left of you — the Princess’s brother. And the Crown Prince of the Empire, Your only real friend. The one who gave you books. The one who used to listen. And man you thought who loved you.

“I never loved you,” he said. “I only used you for my own pleasure”

Then… days later, the truth came out.

One of the maids confessed.

She had been paid by a rival noble house — enemies of the Empire. She poisoned the princess’s tea before you arrived. She thought you were “an easy scapegoat.” No one would question it.

They didn’t.

Your name was cleared.

But you were already gone.

Your cell was cold when they opened it. You were curled in the corner, face pale, body broken. Blood still fresh from your last coughing fit.

A small smile on your lips.

And in your lifeless hand… a crushed ring that Caelan gave you,

They held a grand funeral.

Your father stood before your grave and said nothing.

Alexander wept for the first time since your mother’s death.

Lucas vomited in the hallway after seeing your body.

Damien punched the wall until his hand bled.

Caelan begged for forgiveness that would never come.

And the Princess? She knelt beside your grave every week, whispering, “I’m sorry.

But you were never protected.

You were never loved.

You were simply… too good for the world that hated you.