I tried to cover my nakedness, but Luis rushed toward me and grabbed hold.
"Leave me alone!" I shouted, struggling against his grip, but he wouldn't let go. My body trembled. I will not be a victim again, I swore to myself.
He began fumbling with the buttons of his shirt and pants. That moment of distraction gave me the chance I needed. I struck him with all the strength I had. Shocked, he stumbled back, and I tore myself free, bolting out of the room.
My heart pounded as I ran through the chambers. The main gates were locked. Panic rose in my throat. With nowhere else to go, I slipped into one of the side rooms, slammed the door shut, and turned the lock. From the porch, I looked down. My chambers were high above the palace grounds—too high to jump. Helpless, I sank onto the bed, forcing myself to breathe, searching the room for anything, any sign of help. All I found was a clock ticking away the seconds.
The door creaked open. Luis entered, stripped of every ounce of decency. My screams filled the chamber, though I knew no one would come. He wasn't blood, not family, not even kin. And Queen Naana would say nothing. He pressed a hand to my lips and forced me back onto the bed.
But before he could continue, the doors burst open. Vera rushed in with palace guards. They seized Luis and dragged him back. I flung myself into Vera's arms.
"Thank you… thank you," I whispered, clinging to her.
"You're safe now," she murmured, quickly covering me with a gown.
Her relief was written across her face, but my own heart felt hollow. I had been violated too many times before—by brothers, by uncles, by nobles and officers. The pain never left, yet I had learned to bury it.
I changed into the gown and stood tall. "Let's go. We are far behind time."
Vera stared at me, puzzled. "Go? After all this? Where could you possibly mean?"
"The selection," I said simply, walking toward the door.
She looked astonished. "A man just tried to take you by force, and you act as if nothing happened."
I turned back, sat beside her, and lowered my voice. "Vera… this is not new to me. I have been raped all my life. And though I hate it with every breath, I no longer have the luxury of breaking down each time. I endure. I survive. That is all I can do."
Vera followed me down the stairs. Halfway down, shouts and the crackle of something ablaze stopped us. We ran toward the noise and found the courtyard in flames around my chambers.
Limuel was a whirlwind — fists flying, face red with fury as he hammered Luis. Fire licked the edges of the corridor and no one dared push through the blaze to stop him. "You fool! How dare you touch my sister?" Limuel screamed, each blow driving Luis back against a wall. "I'll strangle you myself!"
Issy stood frozen nearby, a hard line on his face. Pain and indecision warred in him; seeing Limuel attack the man he loved hurt him more than anything. I felt a sick, sharp thrill under my skin — a part of me wanted Limuel to end Luis there and then. If those blows continued five minutes more, Luis wouldn't live to apologize.
Then, like a shadow stepping out of history, a man appeared — robed in fine cloth, carrying an authority that made the air itself feel smaller. He pushed through the circle of onlookers without hesitation and shoved Limuel aside, taking Luis in from the flames as stewards rushed forward. The royal physician arrived breathless, clasping at wounds and barking orders.
Limuel lunged at the stranger. "How dare you stop me!" he spat. The stranger didn't hesitate. With one measured motion he seized Limuel, twisted him as if correcting a stubborn child, and forced his head around. Limuel howled and stumbled back, clutching his cheek where the stranger's grip had burned like iron. He fell to his knees, trembling and humiliated.
"Stop this nonsense!" the stranger thundered, voice cutting through the smoke. "Naana left hours ago and you will not bring chaos to the palace."
We all stared. No one in the palace had ever addressed Queen Naana by her given name. Someone whispered, "Who is he?" The man's answer came flat and unbothered: "I am Lord Christian."
At the name, maids and stewards bowed as one, their faces folded into obedience. Recognition rippled through the crowd — if he spoke like that, he must be of the royal house. It meant he was Queen Naana's brother. Yet even as the knowledge settled, a hard part of me recoiled. We did not owe him our allegiance; his arrival had not erased what had happened, nor did it soften the ache that had long lived in my bones.