Useless

"Another ruined dress? Heavens, Lord Constantine must have expended half of your dowry replacing your dresses nearly every week! What an extravagant use of funds!"

Vira, the youngest maid in the manor, appointed to attend to Aideen from the day she entered its premises, appeared to be the sole individual among the help who showed a modicum of consideration toward the princess.

This preference likely stemmed from Aideen's recurrent practice of bribing the girl with funds Count Crueder parsimoniously allocated to her each week. Aideen viewed this allocation as the minimal cost necessary to garner even a grain of respect within the desolate confines of her new abode. 

"I apologize for causing such inconvenience, Vira. The blame rests solely with me, as I ventured about when cognizant that the maids were in the midst of cleaning the hallways."

Aideen offered the maid a subtle, apologetic smile, prompting the latter's response—a long, audible sigh accompanied by a reprimanding click of the tongue.

"Each day unfolds in the same manner, My Lady! Trouble seems to follow you incessantly! You are but a child residing within the form of a twenty-two-year-old woman!"

Vira shook her head in a display of disappointment, then stood behind her lady, initiating the process of loosening the ribbons securing Aideen's corset.

With each loosened ribbon, each unfastened button, Aideen sensed a gradual alleviation in the burden her body bore—an emancipation from the relentless pain it endured day after day.

As the dress fell heavily to the wooden floor beneath the princess's feet, Vira momentarily halted her ministrations. Her discerning gaze observed her lady's body—marred by no fewer than a dozen sizable bruises, exhibiting hues of black, blue, and purple, akin to peculiar blossoms scattered across her skin.

'Diligent, as always. Never in places where others can see. It is a miracle she can walk at all when she is constantly being beaten to a pulp.'

Another protracted exhale escaped the maid's lips, prompting Aideen to turn her chin to the right in a gesture of concern. 

"Is something the matter, Vira?"

"No, My Lady. Let's get you into a fresh dress."

Upon completing her preparations, Aideen positioned herself before the door leading to Constantine's study. Clutching her trembling hands in front of her stomach, she shifted awkwardly on her feet, endeavoring to summon the courage required for what lay ahead.

This was not a room she entered merely as a visitor; it was her designated chamber of penance.

'Come on, Aideen, you need to move. He might grow angry again if you hesitate too much.'

With a long, deep inhalation, Aideen finally rapped her knuckles against the door. The summons to enter was prompt.

"You wished to see me, My Lord."

Carefully closing the door behind her, she entered the room and paused, awaiting her husband's directives.

Count Crueder scrutinized the woman's refreshed appearance and emitted a subdued groan. He subsequently set aside a stack of papers clutched in his hand and issued a command,

"Don't linger there like a statue, for heaven's sake! Advance closer, and do your best to avoid tripping over anything in the process."

"Yes, Lord Constantine."

Aideen took several cautious steps forward, harboring genuine apprehension that she might indeed stumble once more. Yet, to her profound relief, no obstacles impeded her path to Constantine's desk. 

Once she stood in front of him, the Count continued,

"As you are undoubtedly aware, the matrimonial agreement I entered into with your father, His Majesty the King, was envisioned to be mutually advantageous. On one hand, the Royal Family of Ruan secures my political endorsement and a vote in the esteemed House of Nobles, while on the other hand..."

Here, he paused, observing his wife's pallid yet composed face for a few moments. He then emitted a somewhat irked sigh and concluded,

"On the other hand, I was assured a substantial monetary consideration and a compliant wife, obligated to bear me an heir within the inaugural year of our union."

Aideen sensed a parched lump forming in her throat as her entire frame succumbed to a subtle tremor. The weight of the unspoken expectations and the stark reality of her marital obligations bore down upon her with unwavering force.

She foresaw the trajectory of this discussion—having caught wind of the circulating rumors, she believed herself prepared for the impending confrontation. Alas, it appeared her readiness was a mistake.

Count Crueder, finally, elevated himself from his seat, walked to where the silent princess stood, and positioned both of his heavy, weathered hands upon her shoulders. With a sly grin on his old face, he asked,

"What is this distress I perceive on your face, Your Highness? Would it be so injurious to grace me with a smile at least once in my presence? Do you genuinely hold such disdain for me?"

Aideen lowered her head and uttered in a subdued tone,

"I apologize, Lord Constantine." 

Her quiet voice, however, served only to further incense the man. A resounding slap echoed within the confines of his study as his palm forcefully connected with the delicate skin of the woman's cheek, nearly knocking her off balance. Startled, she instinctively pressed her cold hand against her stinging skin while the Count bellowed,

"This is why you have failed! The festering hatred within your very being is decimating my progeny! This is precisely why you have faltered in fulfilling your duty to bear a child! You, repulsive and ghastly woman, are utterly and absolutely useless!"

Aideen felt a searing cascade of tears streaming down her cheeks as her heart contorted in agony.

'Useless'—a word that held the power to inflict wounds deeper than fists and whips. It was a term she abhorred the most, a venomous descriptor that dogged her steps throughout her existence, casting a shadow over every facet of her life.

Useless was all she was. 

"Tears! You don't even cry like other women do! Silent, not a single sound! Only tears!"

The Count swept his curly gray hair back and forcefully thudded his fist onto the wooden surface of his desk, causing Aideen to flinch and nearly choke on her tears.

"You are to depart tonight. I have finalized all necessary arrangements with the Temple north of the Capital. It is there you shall spend the remainder of your days."

He sank into the chair behind the desk, casting a resentful glance at the woman before him, and motioned for her to leave.

"Now, go; I do not wish to see you anymore. The knights will come for you at midnight, so if you are not ready by then, it is entirely your fault. Leave."

"Yes, Lord Constantine."

Aideen offered the Count a respectful bow and quietly exited the room, leaving him in silence, comfortably leaning in his chair.

As the princess' steps ceased to echo, the long velvet curtain of the study's window subtly swayed, and a low, harsh voice resonated through its flowing fabric,

"The men are ready, My Lord. We will be waiting in the forest as instructed."

Constantine grinned and clasped his hands together.

"Marvelous! As her husband, I have made a promise to her father to be her patron for the rest of her life, but once she is killed, the King will not be able to reclaim his money. It was indeed a perfect plan."