The Slave Queen - Chapter 41: Chapter 41
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Her tone softened toward Sienna as well. "Where is Raelynn?"
Sienna bowed respectfully. "Lady Cecilia, Lady Raelynn has been traveling nonstop and caught a chill. She's taking a hot bath to warm up. Shall I go let her know you're here?"
She turned to leave—
"Wait."
Cecilia suddenly called her back, something unreadable flashing across her face.
"I'll go myself. I haven't had a proper conversation with her in years. Let me help her bathe today—just like I used to."
"Yes, Lady Cecilia."
Sienna didn't think much of it and quietly stepped aside.
Cecilia made her way toward the bathhouse in Lunebloom Hollow.
She knew the layout well—after all, back when Julia lived here, she'd often visited.
There was no need for a maid to lead the way.
She reached the door, took a deep breath, and gently pushed it open.
A wave of warm steam rolled out.
Inside the tub sat a slender figure, soaking quietly in the hot water.
Raelynn, still with her eyes closed, heard the sound of the door and assumed it was a maid.
"I don't need help in here. Leave."
The servants Margot had assigned her were well-trained and mindful of boundaries.
None would ever intrude without permission.
She figured one of the younger maids had stumbled in by mistake.
But the silence that followed made her uneasy.
She opened her eyes, turned her head—and froze.
Cecilia was standing just behind her, hand covering her mouth, eyes wide with guilt and grief.
"Raelynn..."
She barely managed to get the name out before tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
Raelynn's expression darkened.
She shrank deeper into the water, keeping herself covered, and her voice came cold and sharp. "Lady Cecilia, what are you doing here?"
The formal address, the chill in her tone—it pierced through Cecilia like a blade.
She choked back a sob. "Raelynn... do you really not want me anymore?
"Those injuries..."
She reached out instinctively, wanting to touch Raelynn's frail shoulders—only to stop short.
Even through the mist, the scars were unmistakable.
They covered Raelynn's back and arms, some faded, others still raw—each one a silent testimony to the years she had endured in the palace.
Cecilia had expected to see signs of hardship. Gabriel had warned her not to hope for too much. But nothing had prepared her for the reality.
No mother, however mentally prepared, could have been ready for this. She had once believed it was possible to make things right again—that with time and kindness, the damage could be undone. But now, faced with Raelynn's battered body, she finally understood how naive that had been.
But now, faced with Raelynn's battered body, she finally understood how naive that had been.
Some wounds never healed. Some debts could never be repaid.
Her heart shattered in her chest.
But Raelynn remained unmoved.
To her, this belated sorrow wasn't remorse—it was just guilt trying to absolve itself.
If Cecilia had seen the damage, then so be it.
Maybe now she'd stop pretending they could go back to being mother and daughter.
As she lifted her gaze through the rising mist, Raelynn's eyes were filled with quiet contempt.
"You knew exactly what would happen when I was sent into the palace, didn't you?"
Cecilia's face went white. She opened her mouth to deny it—"No... Raelynn, it wasn't like that, I didn't—"
But she couldn't finish the sentence.
Because deep down, she had known. She hadn't wanted Julia to suffer. So she sent Raelynn instead.
Raelynn, who was her real daughter.
Raelynn, who'd already grown up enduring hardship, who was strong and resilient—who could take the punishment.
She had told herself it was survivable. That it would be temporary. That she would make it up to her one day.
Because she was her real daughter, she believed blood would forgive everything.
She thought that one day, Raelynn would understand her difficult choices.
But now, looking at those scars, she could no longer lie to herself.
She hadn't made a difficult decision. She had made a selfish one. And she had sent her own child straight into the fire.
The weight of that truth hit her like a blow. Her knees buckled slightly, and she swayed unsteadily, as if she might faint.
Sienna bowed respectfully. "Lady Cecilia, Lady Raelynn has been traveling nonstop and caught a chill. She's taking a hot bath to warm up. Shall I go let her know you're here?"
She turned to leave—
"Wait."
Cecilia suddenly called her back, something unreadable flashing across her face.
"I'll go myself. I haven't had a proper conversation with her in years. Let me help her bathe today—just like I used to."
"Yes, Lady Cecilia."
Sienna didn't think much of it and quietly stepped aside.
Cecilia made her way toward the bathhouse in Lunebloom Hollow.
She knew the layout well—after all, back when Julia lived here, she'd often visited.
There was no need for a maid to lead the way.
She reached the door, took a deep breath, and gently pushed it open.
A wave of warm steam rolled out.
Inside the tub sat a slender figure, soaking quietly in the hot water.
Raelynn, still with her eyes closed, heard the sound of the door and assumed it was a maid.
"I don't need help in here. Leave."
The servants Margot had assigned her were well-trained and mindful of boundaries.
None would ever intrude without permission.
She figured one of the younger maids had stumbled in by mistake.
But the silence that followed made her uneasy.
She opened her eyes, turned her head—and froze.
Cecilia was standing just behind her, hand covering her mouth, eyes wide with guilt and grief.
"Raelynn..."
She barely managed to get the name out before tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
Raelynn's expression darkened.
She shrank deeper into the water, keeping herself covered, and her voice came cold and sharp. "Lady Cecilia, what are you doing here?"
The formal address, the chill in her tone—it pierced through Cecilia like a blade.
She choked back a sob. "Raelynn... do you really not want me anymore?
"Those injuries..."
She reached out instinctively, wanting to touch Raelynn's frail shoulders—only to stop short.
Even through the mist, the scars were unmistakable.
They covered Raelynn's back and arms, some faded, others still raw—each one a silent testimony to the years she had endured in the palace.
Cecilia had expected to see signs of hardship. Gabriel had warned her not to hope for too much. But nothing had prepared her for the reality.
No mother, however mentally prepared, could have been ready for this. She had once believed it was possible to make things right again—that with time and kindness, the damage could be undone. But now, faced with Raelynn's battered body, she finally understood how naive that had been.
But now, faced with Raelynn's battered body, she finally understood how naive that had been.
Some wounds never healed. Some debts could never be repaid.
Her heart shattered in her chest.
But Raelynn remained unmoved.
To her, this belated sorrow wasn't remorse—it was just guilt trying to absolve itself.
If Cecilia had seen the damage, then so be it.
Maybe now she'd stop pretending they could go back to being mother and daughter.
As she lifted her gaze through the rising mist, Raelynn's eyes were filled with quiet contempt.
"You knew exactly what would happen when I was sent into the palace, didn't you?"
Cecilia's face went white. She opened her mouth to deny it—"No... Raelynn, it wasn't like that, I didn't—"
But she couldn't finish the sentence.
Because deep down, she had known. She hadn't wanted Julia to suffer. So she sent Raelynn instead.
Raelynn, who was her real daughter.
Raelynn, who'd already grown up enduring hardship, who was strong and resilient—who could take the punishment.
She had told herself it was survivable. That it would be temporary. That she would make it up to her one day.
Because she was her real daughter, she believed blood would forgive everything.
She thought that one day, Raelynn would understand her difficult choices.
But now, looking at those scars, she could no longer lie to herself.
She hadn't made a difficult decision. She had made a selfish one. And she had sent her own child straight into the fire.
The weight of that truth hit her like a blow. Her knees buckled slightly, and she swayed unsteadily, as if she might faint.
End of The Slave Queen Chapter 41. Continue reading Chapter 42 or return to The Slave Queen book page.