Another day, and still no Ruhan.
At first, she told herself it was just a short trip. But as the nights dragged on, his absence felt heavier.
Was his family okay? Was he okay?
She tried to shake the worst images out of her head. Ruhan was smart. He knew how to stay invisible. He had to be fine.
She used the palace's cruelty as a distraction. Physically, she was surviving better, mostly because of the secret bottle hidden in her room. Every night, she checked her stash and ground the pills into a fine powder.
It wasn't a perfect shield, but it was all she had.
Although he didn't come every night, Kabil's visits always came without warning. Sometimes it was late into the night, sometimes just after sunset, when she had barely finished her duties. She learned to listen for the sound of uneven footsteps, for the faint scent of wine that preceded him even before the door opened. Her nose was trained like a dog as of now.
He would enter her room already irritated, already looking for something to be displeased with.
"Why are you staring?" he would snap.
"I wasn't," she would answer softly, lowering her eyes at once. "I was waiting for you."
That usually pleased him. She learned to stand just close enough when pouring his drink, close enough to be useful but not so close as to invite suspicion. Her hands never trembled as she tipped the cup, letting the trace of powder disappear into the wine.
"Your drink," she would offer each time.
He would snort, sometimes amused, sometimes dismissive. "You're learning."
Sometimes, before lifting the cup, he would catch her wrist. His fingers would close around it abruptly, pressing into her skin hard enough that her breath caught.
"Don't forget who you belong to," he would mutter, his grip tightening.
"I won't," she would say, because that was what he wanted to hear.
Then he would drink.
The powder did not save her completely. Some nights were still heavy with hands that reminded her of their strength. There were nights he shoved her against the table simply because she happened to be standing too close, nights when his temper flared for no reason at all.
But soon, always soon, his movements would slow. His voice would fade, and his words would blur together into something even Xiao Zhi couldn't understand. His grip would loosen, and his knees would fumble.
Then he would collapse onto the bed before the cruelty went too far, cursing under his breath as sleep dragged him down. Then he would slump forward, consciousness gone.
The prolonged night torture lessened.
The days, however, were another matter entirely.
Public humiliation never stopped. It became so routine that no one pretended it was unusual anymore. Slaps came casually, delivered with bright smiles and annoying laughter.
During one feast, as she poured wine with aching arms, a concubine struck her without warning.
"Careful," the woman said lightly, as if offering advice rather than punishment. "You almost spilled it."
The sting bloomed across Xiao Zhi's cheek. She turned instinctively toward Kabil. Hoping somehow, even just a little bit, Kabil would defend her. After all, Kabil didn't like it when someone else played with his toy.
But he didn't.
Instead, Kabil laughed, amused. "Why are you looking at me?" He waved a hand dismissively. "If one isn't enough, then let another teach you."
Another concubine stepped forward eagerly. Her palm landed against Xiao Zhi's face, sharp and stinging. Laughter rippled around the table.
However, girls' hands hurt less than his.
The pain still stings, of course. But it did not shatter her senses the way Kabil's blows did. It did not leave her gasping for air or struggling to remain upright. These, she told herself quietly, she could endure.
What wore her down more was the labor.
She washed clothes from dawn until her fingers cracked and bled. The cold water numbed her hands until she could no longer feel the fabric. She hauled heavy buckets across courtyards. Steps fumbled from the weight and water sloshing over while servants watched with open amusement.
She felt so much like Cinderella now.
No. Cinderella had it better.
Cinderella had only a stepmother and 2 stepsisters to torture her. And as for Xiao Zhi? She had the whole palace against her.
No. Judging by the way people threw stones at her during the bride parade, the entire country was against her.
"Hurry up," one of the maids snapped when Xiao Zhi slowed, her arms trembling under the weight. "Do you think you're still a princess here?"
Another laughed. "If you drop it, you'll just have to carry it again."
She did not answer. She kept walking.
By midday, her muscles screamed in protest. By evening, the pain settled into her bones. Constant ache followed her no matter how she moved.
By nightfall, exhaustion wrapped around her so tightly she barely had the strength to stand. Even the medicine Ruhan had left her, the small comfort she clung to, seemed less effective now.
"I could kill for a night in a spa now."
Yes, expert hands tending her sore muscles, and a soak in a hot spring were what she needed right now.
There were moments when she wanted it all to end. She didn't need this Cinderella story anymore. She wanted someone to come and rescue her. At least Cinderella has her Prince Charming.
Speaking of Prince Charming, where is Shen Han? The supposed Prince Charming of this story.
Wasn't he supposed to save her? like a knight in shining armor, sweeping her out of this misery.
The thought of the letter kept coming back to haunt her. She had poured everything into those pages, every bit of her fear and her hope. She had spent weeks counting the hours, waiting for any kind of sign.
But there was nothing. Not a single word.
Did he even receive it?
Did he choose not to answer?
Or worse… did he no longer care?