Chapter 1 - THE TWENTIETH STRIKE
The twentieth strike was the moment I stopped being Adrian Vale’s wife.
Not legally. Not yet.
But somewhere inside me, the woman who had loved him quietly stood up, looked around at the wreckage, and walked out forever.
I was on my knees on the polished black basalt floor of the royal bedchamber, one hand pressed against my aching ribs, the other resting near a rolled papyrus scroll of divorce papers he had thrown at me like trash. Small crimson drops smeared the dark stone beneath me, shattering my reflection on the mirror-like surface.
Throughout the chamber, bronze torches burned fiercely, casting a warm, deceptive glow on the massive golden statues of gods that towered over us, making everything look beautiful enough to hide a brutal betrayal.
Adrian stood tall above me in his luxurious Egyptian noble attire. His finely embroidered gold linen kilt (Shendyt) wrapped tightly around his waist, and his heavy gold and lapis lazuli collar (Usekh) gleamed under the firelight. His dark hair was perfectly styled. His face was entirely calm—a coldness far more terrifying than rage.
On the leopard-skin sofa, Vanessa reclined, one hand resting on her pregnant belly under her pleated, translucent fine linen gown. It was an exquisite, delicate dress that I recognized instantly. Not because I owned it, but because the gold transaction invoice from the royal tailor had been charged to my family's estate two months ago under the guise of a "diplomatic gift" Adrian claimed was for a client.
Vanessa raised her golden chalice filled with red wine, a mocking smirk playing on her lips.
"Look at her," she whispered, her voice dripping with sweet venom. "She still thinks she’s the victim."
My spine burned, my breath shallow and raspy. But it was Adrian’s eyes that cut the deepest. Not because they held hatred, but because they completely dismissed me. As if I were already a non-entity, a name to be erased from the tomb walls.
"You embarrassed Vanessa in front of the high council tonight," he said, his voice like ice.
A weak, hollow laugh escaped my chest before I could stop it. "She told the temple priests that I was barren, unable to provide an heir."
Vanessa sighed softly, looking utterly bored. "I only said what people were already whispering."
"She also claimed I only married you for your family's gold!" I rasped.
Vanessa’s smile widened. "Well... didn't you?"
Before I could fire back, Adrian cut in smoothly, "Perhaps she did."
Those three words pierced straight through my heart. For three years, I had stood by him at every royal banquet, every diplomatic reception, every tax campaign, and every sacred temple ritual. I smiled when others praised his rapid rise to power. I stayed quiet when high officials lauded Adrian's brilliant strategies in deals that I had secretly engineered, utilizing the colossal influence of my father—the Grand General whose power was second only to the Pharaoh.
Adrian never once wondered why the royal gold vaults, once locked to him, suddenly swung wide open. He never questioned why regional governors who once despised him suddenly bowed and invited him to feast. He truly believed it was all due to his own charm, talent, and divine destiny.
And I let him believe it. Because my father had taught me a golden rule: Never show shallow people where the deep water begins.
Vanessa stepped down from the leopard-skin couch, leaning in close. The heavy scent of blue lotus perfume invaded my senses.
"You should get on your knees and apologize," she whispered in my ear. "Maybe then I’ll convince Adrian to let you stay in the rear storehouses of the temple complex after the divorce."
I looked up at her. "Divorce?"
Adrian used the toe of his gold-trimmed sandal to nudge the papyrus scroll closer to me. "I’m done carrying dead weight."
Saying this, he wrapped a protective arm around Vanessa's waist. "She is with child."
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Silence fell over the chamber. Vanessa placed her hand over her stomach as if crowning her unborn baby. Surprisingly, my heart did not break. It settled, hardening like stone. Every secret midnight meeting, every missing gold ledger, every public humiliation, and every private cruelty—they all clicked into place.
It was more than enough.
