The Slave Queen - Chapter 42: Chapter 42
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As she saw Cecilia swaying unsteadily, Raelynn's brows knit even tighter.
"Someone come."
She could tell Cecilia wasn't in a good state and raised her voice to call a maid.
"Lady Cecilia doesn't look well. Take her back to Moonspire Keep to rest."
"Yes, Lady Raelynn."
A young maid stepped forward, ready to support the swaying Cecilia, but Cecilia pressed her lips together and steadied herself.
"No need. You may go."
She was speaking to the maid, who hesitated and glanced at Raelynn.
Raelynn's expression was composed, though the faint furrow between her brows lingered.
"Lady Cecilia, there's no need for you to stay here. The bathhouse is full of steam, the floor is wet—you wouldn't want to slip and injure yourself."
Her tone was cool, detached, and unmistakably formal.
Cecilia clutched her chest, the ache making it hard to breathe. Her voice softened.
"Raelynn... don't you remember? I used to help you bathe when you were little. And now, with your injuries... let me apply some ointment for you..."
"That won't be necessary, Lady Cecilia."
Raelynn's reply was crisp and final.
"These past few years, I've long since learned to tend to my own wounds. I don't need anyone else's hands."
If she wanted a picture-perfect scene of motherly devotion, she could go find Julia.
Raelynn had no interest in playing along.
She didn't bother to say it outright—no need.
Cecilia would understand exactly what she meant.
Tears poured from Cecilia's eyes like broken beads, her heart hollowing out with each drop.
"Take Lady Cecilia out. I'm done here."
The moment had soured completely. Raelynn had no desire to stay in the bath any longer.
Her body was warm enough. She might as well go visit her grandmother.
"Yes, Lady Raelynn."
The maid gave a cautious bow and gestured politely toward the door. "Lady Cecilia..."
Cecilia cast one last, lingering glance at Raelynn—her eyes swollen and red—before finally turning and stepping out.
But the moment she exited the bathhouse, she collapsed against the doorframe, gasping for air like someone who'd nearly drowned.
The scars on Raelynn's body...
They were unbearable to see.
At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to storm into the palace and scream, demand to know who had the cruelty to treat Raelynn like that.
Four years.
Fifteen hundred nights.
How had Raelynn survived it all?
"Lady Cecilia, Lady Raelynn is getting dressed. Perhaps you should—"
The maid hesitated, speaking gently.
But before she could finish, Cecilia suddenly lifted her hand and slapped herself—hard.
Smack! The sound echoed.
Her well-kept face swelled red in an instant.
The maid paled and dropped to her knees, trembling.
"Lady Cecilia! This is my fault! Please punish me, not yourself!"
She bowed repeatedly, panicked and helpless.
But Cecilia didn't even look at her. She turned and walked off like a ghost, dazed and hollow.
No—it wasn't the maid's fault.
It was hers.
Back in the front courtyard, Cecilia found a group of servants still waiting with chests of silk, jewelry, and fine gowns—gifts she had painstakingly prepared for Raelynn.
But the sight of them made her recoil as if they were burning hot.
No amount of gold or jewel could undo what had been done.
No treasure could erase the pain Raelynn had endured.
Still shaken, Cecilia slumped into a nearby chair, leaning her elbows on the table and trying to calm herself.
Her eyes happened to land on the half-finished cup of coffee Gabriel had left behind.
Without thinking, she picked it up and downed the cold coffee in one gulp.
"Lady Cecilia! That coffee's gone cold!" Sienna cried out, rushing to stop her.
But it was too late.
The bitter coffee only made her face twist with more regret.
Sienna was quick-witted. One look at Cecilia, and she understood what had happened. She glanced toward Esther.
Esther met her gaze, but her face remained unreadable.
"My daughter... my poor daughter..."
Cecilia broke down completely, sobbing as she slapped her thighs in anguish. Her cries were raw, full of a pain that pierced the heart.
The gathered servants all lowered their heads, afraid to even breathe too loudly.
No one wanted to get caught in the middle of this storm.
So when Raelynn finally stepped out, fully dressed, this was the scene that greeted her—utterly ridiculous, in her opinion.
And with that thought, she let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Lady Cecilia, Lady Julia is in Moonspire Keep. You've come to the wrong place."
"Someone come."
She could tell Cecilia wasn't in a good state and raised her voice to call a maid.
"Lady Cecilia doesn't look well. Take her back to Moonspire Keep to rest."
"Yes, Lady Raelynn."
A young maid stepped forward, ready to support the swaying Cecilia, but Cecilia pressed her lips together and steadied herself.
"No need. You may go."
She was speaking to the maid, who hesitated and glanced at Raelynn.
Raelynn's expression was composed, though the faint furrow between her brows lingered.
"Lady Cecilia, there's no need for you to stay here. The bathhouse is full of steam, the floor is wet—you wouldn't want to slip and injure yourself."
Her tone was cool, detached, and unmistakably formal.
Cecilia clutched her chest, the ache making it hard to breathe. Her voice softened.
"Raelynn... don't you remember? I used to help you bathe when you were little. And now, with your injuries... let me apply some ointment for you..."
"That won't be necessary, Lady Cecilia."
Raelynn's reply was crisp and final.
"These past few years, I've long since learned to tend to my own wounds. I don't need anyone else's hands."
If she wanted a picture-perfect scene of motherly devotion, she could go find Julia.
Raelynn had no interest in playing along.
She didn't bother to say it outright—no need.
Cecilia would understand exactly what she meant.
Tears poured from Cecilia's eyes like broken beads, her heart hollowing out with each drop.
"Take Lady Cecilia out. I'm done here."
The moment had soured completely. Raelynn had no desire to stay in the bath any longer.
Her body was warm enough. She might as well go visit her grandmother.
"Yes, Lady Raelynn."
The maid gave a cautious bow and gestured politely toward the door. "Lady Cecilia..."
Cecilia cast one last, lingering glance at Raelynn—her eyes swollen and red—before finally turning and stepping out.
But the moment she exited the bathhouse, she collapsed against the doorframe, gasping for air like someone who'd nearly drowned.
The scars on Raelynn's body...
They were unbearable to see.
At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to storm into the palace and scream, demand to know who had the cruelty to treat Raelynn like that.
Four years.
Fifteen hundred nights.
How had Raelynn survived it all?
"Lady Cecilia, Lady Raelynn is getting dressed. Perhaps you should—"
The maid hesitated, speaking gently.
But before she could finish, Cecilia suddenly lifted her hand and slapped herself—hard.
Smack! The sound echoed.
Her well-kept face swelled red in an instant.
The maid paled and dropped to her knees, trembling.
"Lady Cecilia! This is my fault! Please punish me, not yourself!"
She bowed repeatedly, panicked and helpless.
But Cecilia didn't even look at her. She turned and walked off like a ghost, dazed and hollow.
No—it wasn't the maid's fault.
It was hers.
Back in the front courtyard, Cecilia found a group of servants still waiting with chests of silk, jewelry, and fine gowns—gifts she had painstakingly prepared for Raelynn.
But the sight of them made her recoil as if they were burning hot.
No amount of gold or jewel could undo what had been done.
No treasure could erase the pain Raelynn had endured.
Still shaken, Cecilia slumped into a nearby chair, leaning her elbows on the table and trying to calm herself.
Her eyes happened to land on the half-finished cup of coffee Gabriel had left behind.
Without thinking, she picked it up and downed the cold coffee in one gulp.
"Lady Cecilia! That coffee's gone cold!" Sienna cried out, rushing to stop her.
But it was too late.
The bitter coffee only made her face twist with more regret.
Sienna was quick-witted. One look at Cecilia, and she understood what had happened. She glanced toward Esther.
Esther met her gaze, but her face remained unreadable.
"My daughter... my poor daughter..."
Cecilia broke down completely, sobbing as she slapped her thighs in anguish. Her cries were raw, full of a pain that pierced the heart.
The gathered servants all lowered their heads, afraid to even breathe too loudly.
No one wanted to get caught in the middle of this storm.
So when Raelynn finally stepped out, fully dressed, this was the scene that greeted her—utterly ridiculous, in her opinion.
And with that thought, she let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Lady Cecilia, Lady Julia is in Moonspire Keep. You've come to the wrong place."
End of The Slave Queen Chapter 42. Continue reading Chapter 43 or return to The Slave Queen book page.