Angerona sat demurely next to her husband. Women were no longer allowed to sit at the same table as the men, but her husband liked showing her off. Not half as beautiful as the prize he had lost, though she was indeed lovely and, in her submissiveness, representative of the kingdom he had managed to conquer. She was his prized jewel, covered in more jewels.

Bracelets of braided gold adorned her pale hands. A diamond ring circled her right index finger; on her left middle finger, a large ruby—its color reminiscent of blood—reflected the light. Inhaling deeply, she strained against the weight of her necklace. It was so massive it could have been confused for a breastplate. Two sheets of hammered gold, linked together and studded with an intricately symmetric design of tiny rubies.

She scoffed inwardly. No matter the size, a piece of metal could not make her forget the pain that had exploded within her after he'd struck her. She had fallen against the bed's edge, cracking her skull against its sharp point, before he grabbed her and locked her inside a small storeroom. Even hidden by her hair, the indentation left by the blow was still palpable. Angerona raised a hand to the side of her head and carefully felt the small hole underneath the still-tender skin.

No, she could not forget at all.