Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 201 - Two Hundred And One

The west wing of the estate was silent, a stark contrast to the lively sounds of Derek’s bedchamber. The heavy curtains in Ashlyn’s bedchamber were drawn, blocking out the moonlight, leaving the room in a suffocating, dusty twilight.

Ashlyn slipped through the door, her movements quick and furtive. She held a glass of water in her hand, the condensation cool against her palm. She had woken up parched, her throat dry from another night of restless, nightmare-filled sleep. She had gone to the hallway table, avoiding the servants, avoiding the eyes of anyone who might pity or mock the "disgraced" Second Lady.

She thought she was alone. She thought she was in isolation.

But she wasn’t.

She stopped dead in the center of the room. Her hand shook, water sloshing over the rim of the glass and dripping onto the carpet.

Someone was on her bed.

A figure was hunched over the small, round table where her dinner tray had been left untouched hours ago. The figure was eating the cold roast chicken with his bare hands, tearing at the meat like a starving animal. His clothes were dirty, covered in the grey dust of the mines and the grime of the road. His hair was matted, his posture broken.

Ashlyn squinted in the dim light. She didn’t recognize him at first. He looked like a beggar who had broken in.

Then, he turned his head.

"Carlos!" she whispered, her voice a gasp of pure shock.

She quickly closed the door behind her, locking it with trembling fingers. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

He was banished. He was supposed to be miles away, working in the mines, stripped of his title and his comfort. If Beatrice found him here, if the guards found him, he would be thrown in the dungeon, and she would be exiled with him.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, rushing over to stand by the door, keeping her distance from the dirty, desperate man who used to be her husband. "How did you get here? You are forbidden! If they see you..."

Carlos looked up. His face was gaunt, his cheeks hollow. His eyes, usually bright with arrogance, were now dark, hollow, and filled with a cold, simmering anger. He wiped grease from his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a dark smear on his cheek. He looked at her with pure disdain.

"You lounge daily," Carlos spat, his voice rough from disuse and dust. He gestured at the room, at the silk sheets, at the untouched food, at the luxury she still clung to. "Eating well. Dressing fine. Sleeping in a soft bed while I rot."

He stood up, swaying slightly. He looked dangerous. He looked like a man who had nothing left to lose.

"While I do backbreaking labor outside," he growled, taking a step toward her. "I am digging ditches. I am carrying rocks until my back screams. My hands are bleeding."

He held up his hands. They were raw, blistered, and filthy, the nails broken. They were no longer the soft hands of a nobleman.

"Now I sneak into my own home like a thief," Carlos said, pointing a shaking finger at her. "I have to crawl through windows. I have to hide from servants. Because of you. Because you ruined me."

Ashlyn recoiled. The injustice of it burned her like acid. She had given everything for him. She had lied for him. She had debased herself for him.

"It is you who caused your demise!" she whispered furiously, her voice trembling with rage. "If you had studied like I told you to! If you had learned the strategies instead of drinking wine with your friends! If you had prepared, the generals wouldn’t have suspected a thing! You failed the test, Carlos! Not me!"

She took a step forward, her fear forgotten in her anger.

"I gave you the path!" she hissed. "I gave you the money! I gave you the opportunity! All you had to do was walk it! But you were too lazy! You were too arrogant!"

Carlos sneered. "Shut up."

He pointed at her again, his finger jabbing the air, his eyes wild.

"If you hadn’t hosted that huge banquet," he shouted, his voice rising, forgetting the need for silence. "Would I be in this state? You invited the whole world to watch me fail! You made it a spectacle! You set the stage for my humiliation!"

He paced the small space between the bed and the wardrobe, like a caged wolf.

"You wanted to show off!" he accused. "You wanted to be the Grand Duchess before the title was even mine! You dragged me into the light before I was ready! If it had been quiet... if it had been private... I could have fixed it! I could have bought my way out! But no! You had to have a feast!"

Ashlyn looked shocked. Her mouth fell open.

"You blame me?" she asked, her voice trembling. "For trying to help you? For believing in you? For trying to give you the glory you said you deserved?"

Carlos ignored her. He sat back down on the bed and grabbed a piece of stale bread, stuffing it into his mouth. He continued eating like a beggar who hadn’t seen food in days, chewing with his mouth open, staring at her with hatred.

Ashlyn watched him. She felt a wave of revulsion. This was the man she had chosen? This was the man who had become the Grand Duke in her past life? This was the man she had thrown away her sister’s life for in the past?

"For your success," Ashlyn said, her voice rising with hysteria, tears streaming down her face. "I exhausted myself! I lied! I schemed! I mortgaged my mother’s estate! I owe Marissa a fortune! I am about to lose everything!"

She walked toward him, tears of rage in her eyes.

"I am Denver’s biggest joke because of you!" she cried. "Everyone is laughing at me! Even the servants pity me! I walk through the halls and I hear them whispering! ’There goes the fool’s wife.’ ’There goes the beggar princess.’"

She grabbed her dress, bunching the fabric in her fists.

"I gave you everything!" she screamed. "And you threw it in the mud!"

Carlos stopped chewing. He swallowed the bread hard. He stood up, knocking the tray off the table. The silver spoon hit the floor with a loud clang, followed by the crash of a porcelain plate.

"You are a joke," Carlos shouted, stepping over the broken shards. "Because you kept saying I’ll be the commander! You kept saying I’ll take the Grand Duke title from Derek! You sounded like a madwoman!"

He advanced on her, forcing her back against the door.

"You fed me lies!" he yelled, his face inches from hers. "You told me it was destiny! You told me a seer said so! You told me you had a dream where I took the title from Derek! And I believed you! Like a fool, I believed you!"

He grabbed her shoulders. He shook her, his grip painful.

"Serves you right!" he spat. "Serves you right for being a witch who listens to fake fortune! Serves you right for thinking you could change fate!"

He released her, shoving her away.

"Where is the money?" he demanded, his eyes scanning the room, looking at her jewelry box. "Where is the rest of your jewelry? I need to buy my way out of the labor camp. I need to bribe the guards. Give it to me!"

Ashlyn stared at him. She saw the greed in his eyes. She saw the weakness. She saw the man who would sell her out in a heartbeat to save his own skin.

She realized, finally, that there was no saving him. And there was no saving herself as long as she was tied to him.