She claimed to be from the future, lamenting how I was ruining her and her best friend's good fortune.
What is this talk of time travel?
As my consciousness faded, I felt someone lift me up. Cassian's worried voice called out, "Snow, Snow."
It was Cassian.
I whispered to myself, wanting to rise and escape the abyss.
But when I opened my eyes, it wasn't Cassian I saw; it was Ashley.
Her anger was still simmering as she glared down at me, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Learning to complain to me about my son now, are we?"
Confused, I noticed Fiona kneeling on the ground, her face buried in her hands, trembling as she cried. "Mrs. Aniston didn't want to take her medicine. She asked us to switch it for birth control pills and not tell you…"
My heart sank.
So that's what she has been giving me!
In this place, without children, I would have no standing. I wanted to argue, but Ashley slapped me hard across the face. "As Cassian's wife, not having children is a grave sin!"
She called for Cassian. "Isn't it time for a peaceful divorce?"
Cassian glanced at me, and the pain in his eyes seemed genuine. He soothed Ashley's anger, finally saying, "Snow has no one else; she should stay in the house…"
He looked at Ashley, seemingly conceding. "Let her be a concubine, then."
I went from being his wife to his mistress while the maid moved up in the world, earning Ashley's favor.
Every time I felt I couldn't stay in this house any longer, it was Cassian who comforted me, insisting that as long as he was around, no one would dare bully me.
Before all this, I believed him. After all, it was my health that was failing; I couldn't let Cassian down. Especially when I saw the way he looked at children; it pained me deeply, making me feel like I owed him something.
"I only want a child with Fiona; my heart belongs to you," Cassian would whisper sweetly, even though he carried the scent of Fiona's perfume on him. I'd swallow my discomfort and smile at him.
But today was different. When Cassian returned home after a night of drinking, his collar bore the lipstick mark of another woman.
I knew he was a flirt and had likely been out with a courtesan.
But when he held me close, demanding affection, he called out, "Kate, why won't you look at me?"
At first, I thought he had found a new love. It wasn't until the flower-viewing banquet that I realized the tragic truth of it all.