The air was warm, warmer than Elara liked it. She stood at the center of the room, her face scrunched in anger, her eyes flitting around the place.

The furniture was covered in thick dust, and she watched as the maid rushed forward to pull the curtains open, letting a thick breeze of dust into the air.

Elara coughed, irritation building up in her. "Be careful! Are you trying to have me killed, you idiot?" she snarled at the maid.

"Forgive me, my lady," the girl rushed out, carefully doing her job, but where could she even get started? The place was a mess. A dirty, dusty mess.

The house had been locked for years with no one using it. Not until now. Elara looked around, her jaw clenched hard in anger with each passing second.

"Argh," she screamed, flinging her bag against the wall.

How could this be her life? This—this dirty, useless excuse for a home is where she would end up? Why? What has she done wrong that is so wrong that Thorne had to throw her out? All she's done is love him.

"My lady… Would you like me to show you to your room, and I can—"

Elara snapped her gaze to the girl. "Get out!" she screamed, and the girl practically flew out of the room.

She ran her fingers through her hair hysterically. Perhaps she was mad. A true madwoman. She just couldn't believe it. From the palace to this shack of a place. In the midst of the villagers. Not even the townspeople. No—she was banished to stay in the midst of the filthy villagers in the outer banks.

All because of her.

That low-born, feral girl had taken everything. The crown, the palace, Thorne. Elara could still see the way he looked at Adina… the way he never looked at her, no matter how much of herself she gave.

He'd rejected her love, her body, and her loyalty. He threw her away like she was nothing.

A sob wrecked through Elara's lips, and she fell to the ground dramatically, not bothering to cover her mouth. She cried as if her skin was being ripped off her body, as if she'd lost an essential part of her soul.

She who had once been the general of the Obsidian Kingdom was now reduced to this mess. A woman who had not only been rejected but banished. How could Thorne do this to her? She's stayed by him through it all. She'd even offered her body to him, but even then…

Elara screamed again. Her heart was hurting so much. She looked around, shaking her head. She can't stay here. She can't be away from those for so long. She needed him so much.

Adina cannot win over her. It's impossible. She won't accept defeat this way. No! If she can't have Thorne, then Adina won't have him either.

She shook her head as she curled into herself right there on the floor. She'll ruin Adina even if it was the last thing she did. She won't lose.

When she opened her eyes, she was no longer in that dusty sitting room. Someone had moved her to a small, cramped bedroom.

Elara groaned, her body aching as she sat up. The sky outside the window was black.

"You there!" she called.

Her maid burst into the room almost instantly, her eyes wide. "Yes, my lady?"

"Get me a bottle," Elara ordered.

The girl blinked. "A bottle, my lady?"

Elara's voice turned sharp. "Are you deaf? Who do you think you are to question me? I said get me a bottle."

The maid flinched and nodded quickly. "Right away, my lady." She disappeared down the hallway.

A few minutes later, a bottle of wine was placed in Elara's hands.

Elara dismissed the maid, opened the bottle, and downed the wine. She stared out the window into the dark sky.

Tonight, she'd mourn, and tomorrow, she'd plan her return.

_____

First, second, and finally the third.

It was Elara's third day in the outer banks, and she was losing her mind. She'd woken up on the first day ready to put it all behind and gear up for her return to the palace.

She'd spent the entire day writing letters, summoning people to her aid.

Except… She got no reply.

She—General Elara of Obsidian who had helped so many nobles and councilmen and yet… they all ignored her summons. Ignored her letters like she was only a leech pestering them.

Elara was past losing her mind. She'd already lost it.

Each hour spent in the outer banks was pulling at her strings. She didn't know how much more she could take. She'd written so much that her fingers almost fell off, and yet she got nothing in return.

Elara clenched her fist tight, her heart thumping in her chest. She didn't feel her nails digging sharply into her palms, drawing out blood. Not until she heard her maid gasp in shock.

"My lady," the girl blurted out as she rushed towards Elara, tearing off a piece of her dress and immediately wrapped it around Elara's bloodied palm. "You injured yourself, my lady."

Elara gulped hard as she jerked her hand back from the girl's grasp. "Leave it," she gritted out. This pain will teach her not to forget those who turned their backs on her.

"My lady," the maid stammered, concerned.

"Go get me my writing tools. I need to send out some messages," Elara ordered, looking away, missing the way the maid's face fell in sadness.

"Right away, my lady," the girl rushed out of the room and immediately brought back her things.

But just as Elara settled down to begin writing, the knock came again.

Elara hissed irritably, "Are you so desperate for death that you'll interrupt my—"

"Forgive me, my lady, but you have a visitor," the maid rushed out.

At this, Elara stood up, eyebrows furrowed. She rushed to the door and pulled it open, eyes on the maid.

"Speak."

"Lord Carter of Blood Moon is here to see you."