With my stomach full and a cool cloth held to my face, I studied my hand. It was new to me. I was far too used to withered and worn fingers that were perfect for scrubbing floors and picking through dead bodies. This maiden’s hand was a wonder. I turned it this way and that, marveling at the pink-shell nails, smooth palm, and unblemished skin.

“Ana, come here,” I said, heartbeat picking up. Although I was nervous, there was a strange calm. It was like I wasn’t in control of my body.

“Yes, my lady?” Her tone was respectful, and her manners impeccable. It reminded me of the past. She never changed, and it made everything easier.

I walked to her, taking a moment to get the angel right, keeping eye contact before I swung my arm. It connected with her jaw. She screamed and landed with a thud. Ana held her check, blood oozing from her split lip as she looked up at me.

I flashed my hand.

It hurt.

I didn’t expect that.

I didn’t understand why people were so quick to hit people until I saw her on the ground, mouth agape, a mix of fear and confusion on her face.

Oh, this is what it is.

I felt powerful.

The pain radiating from my hand was nothing compared to the rush I felt from seeing her on the floor.

“What are you doing?” she stuttered, her tone off.

My eyes widened. It was the first time Catherine broke character in both of my lives. It was too unexpected, and she couldn’t hide her anger. Her tone was disrespectful, and something simmered in her eyes.

Would she hit me back?

I almost wanted to see her try. I might not be worth much, but I was more valuable to the Duke than a single servant. For now, at least.

Not moving, I waited for her to do something. Attack me, maybe.

Instead, she got up, fixed her dress, and bowed her head. “Have I displeased you, my lady?”

Part of me expected her to get angry, and I was a bit disappointed that she didn’t, but maybe she hadn’t overcome the shock yet.

How anticlimactic but fitting. I’d been in vulnerable positions enough to know you always thought about fighting back but never did it. Catherine probably wanted to get up and scratch out my eyes.

I laughed, a low tinkling sound. It was joyful and light. I don’t remember ever laughing like that before. “Nothing. I was curious to see how it would feel.” I didn’t think for a second she was cowed or that I had some type of power over her. Catherine was continuing the act. She was probably more aware of her value than I was.

I lifted my hand again, and she flinched, tucking her head.

That’s refreshing.

I was familiar with that action. I’d done it many times myself. Be smaller, don’t make yourself a target. If they decide to attack and you make too much noise, they might be annoyed and hit you more, but if you make too little noise, it would be boring, and they would try to get a reaction out of you.

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I took a breath. The happiness came quickly but passed just as fast, leaving a hollow feeling and something strangely like guilt.

“You should keep this between us,” I said, not believing for a second that she would. What type of spy would she be if she didn’t properly report everything I did?

Catherine could tell whomever she liked. There were benefits to being the brutish bastard, lacking in decorum. Violent would be another sin added to my long list of bad qualities.

Those preconceived notions would protect me, at least for a while.

“I will go to town tomorrow. You should prepare for the trip.” I sat, reaching for the cloth I’d used to cool my face, and pressed it to my hand. The pulsing was getting worse. There might be something broken. It was hard to say it was worth it, but I didn’t regret it.

The guilt for slapping her eased. I ignored the urge to do it again. It was a slippery slope to take my anger out on others. Violence had its place, but if used too much, its effectiveness decreased. My husband taught me that.

System initiating. The minimum number of revenge points achieved. Binding.

My head whipped around. What was that?

“Did you say something?” I asked. The voice hadn’t sounded like Catherine's. It was cold and not of this world. Was it a god? I didn't have magic and was even less likely to be a prophet. Was it a demon?

Cathrine’s gaze was a mix of contempt and concern for a moment before it settled. “No. I didn’t say anything, but I want to remind you that you have lessons with Lady Rintour tomorrow.”

Maybe it was nothing. A lot had happened recently, and it wouldn’t be odd if I had a few hallucinations after starving for a few days.

I focused on the name that was both familiar and vague. Lady Rintour, a name I hadn’t heard in a while. A scandalous one that fell out of favor soon. I could use that knowledge to my advantage, and it was a good opportunity to practice.

I couldn’t always have spies around me. I needed to start looking for allies o, at the very least, competent partners bound together by mutual benefit.

Which category did blackmail fall under? The lady, who many considered the social butterfly of the north, second only to the duchess and her two daughters, was pulled down and shamed, losing everything before being sent to a nunnery, where she died after a year.

“Then the day after tomorrow. I’ve never left the castle before, and I’m looking forward to it. Also, let Typhon know the time we’re leaving.”

Along with a name from the past, there was one I’d never heard of before, which shocked me more.

Typhon.

It brought me back to the meeting with my father.

*

I wondered how to end my father’s nagging. My cheek was numb, and I wanted to splash some cold water on my face and get something to eat. Because I got a neck injury in my past life, the meeting ended early.

I didn’t dare interrupt him, and I didn’t have the necessary skills to lead the conversation in the direction I wanted. It would be even better if I could make it seem like it was his idea, but that was an even taller order.

The words hovered on the tip of my tongue, looking for the best opportunity to come out. It would be best to make it look like I was just curious, having never left the castle that would be normal for someone my age.

“Are you listening?” he asked.

“Yes, D, Father,” I said, sounding strange. I don’t know when he changed from ‘father’ to ‘the duke’ in my mind.

“Were you about to call me dad?” he said, spitting the words. Anyone listening would think he’d never heard anything more offensive. “How pedestrian.”

“Sorry.” I felt if I lowered my head anymore, it would fuse with my chest, and I wouldn’t be able to lift it. I wondered how he would feel if he knew what I planned to call him. He’d probably prefer it. “Ahmm.”

It didn’t seem the best time to ask, but the most he could say was no, and I was running out of time.

“What is it,” he asked.

“Can I go outside?”

“I was under the impression your punishment had ended, and there are no restrictions on your movements within the castle.”

I swallowed a scoff. There were no outright restrictions, but I knew they expected me to stay in my wing and make my existence as small as possible.

From beneath my lashes, I saw him unholster his wand, waving it towards his desk before paper floated over and nestled in his hand. The duke was already finished with this conversation, and I needed to hurry this up.

“To the town. I’ve never been. I would like to go out and see it for myself.”

As I was about to say more, the door burst open, and a man dressed like a butler charged into the room.