CHAPTER 242: A SLAVE WHO FEELS WORTHLESS (II)

She thought maybe that would be the quickest way to break through, the easiest path to get Hazelle out of the nightmare she was living in.

But instead of fear or hesitation ... Hazelle had looked almost ... excited?

Wait ... was she actually excited?

Just a moment later, Hazelle let out a faint smile. "His Majesty would probably sentence me to death," she whispered.

Ah, there it was.

Hazelle always got strangely excited whenever she thought she might be executed because to her, death sounded better than punishment from Silas.

"Yes, Your Majesty," she said, her voice calmer now, steadier, like she had finally made peace with something. "I put the poison in your bath."

She held out her hands toward Primrose, as if offering herself up. "You can tell the guards to arrest me now. Don’t worry... I won’t run."

[The only way to be free ... is to die,] Hazelle thought quietly. [Dr. Silas always said there’s no way to break the slave seal, anyway.]

[And even if I could escape ... what would I do? I don’t have a family. I don’t have friends. I’d probably just end up on the streets ... maybe even selling myself just to survive.]

What Hazelle didn’t see—what she had been blind to after years of feeling small and worthless—was that she did have skills.

She had years of experience working under Silas. She knew how to make medicine. She had real potential to become a professional medical or even a doctor’s assistant someday.

She could have a future.

Unfortunately, Hazelle couldn’t see any of that.

All she could see were her flaws and failures. All she believed was that she had no future.

She was barely twenty years old, and yet ... she already believed her life was over.

"You’re not going to die." Primrose’s voice softened. She didn’t try to explain. She didn’t lecture. She simply leaned forward, and wrapped her arms around Hazelle.

The move caught Hazelle completely off guard, so much so that she froze, her breath caught in her throat.

She tried to pull away. She was trying to get away from Primrose, but the Queen held her tightly, so tightly, that all Hazelle could do was stay still ... and let herself be held.

"Your Majesty..." Hazelle whispered, her voice barely there, "You shouldn’t touch someone as dirty as me."

Primrose didn’t even flinch at her words. "Hazelle," she called gently, her voice as soft as a lullaby. "I won’t let you die young. That’s why ... Please, accept my offer." She held her a little tighter. "I can set you free."

Hazelle trembled in her arms, her whole body shivering from the inside out.

"What’s the point, Your Majesty?" she asked, her voice shaking. "I’ve been trapped in this kind of life since I was a child. Even if I’m freed ... it doesn’t mean anything will get better."

She still hadn’t admitted that the mark on the back of her neck was a slave seal, but her words were enough to tell Primrose one thing that Hazelle was finally beginning to open up.

[No one has ever hugged me like this before ...] Hazelle thought quietly.

[I can’t even remember the last time someone held me like this. Or maybe ... no one ever has.]

[No ... wait. I think ... maybe my older sister hugged me once?]

[I don’t really remember since I was sold when I was four, so everything before that feels like a blur.]

Primrose believed that only parents who didn’t love their children could do something that cruel.

They could say it was out of desperation, that they needed money. But deep down, a parent who truly loved their child could never treat them like something to sell.

Being a child was already hard, let alone being sold and turned into a slave? That was a living nightmare.

Their freedom was ripped away before they even understood what it meant, and the path to their future was destroyed right in front of their eyes.

People who were raised with nothing but cruelty and fear ... they often struggled to believe that life could be kind. Some of them found a way to rebuild, but many fell deeper into darkness.

That’s why so many freed slaves eventually ended up back in the dark business, like falling into prostitution, crime, or banditry, simply because they didn’t know any other way to live.

However, Primrose refused to let Hazelle follow that path.

Hazelle was broken, yes. But if she was willing to let Primrose hold her hand, Primrose would guide her forward. She would help her piece her life back together, no matter how long it took.

People might ask, "Why go so far for someone you barely know?"

Honestly, it was a fair question.\

Hazelle was a stranger, a mere slave, someone who had nothing to do with Primrose’s life.

They’d be right. Primrose didn’t have to help her.

She didn’t need to go so far, even to the point of killing the Marquess of Moonshadow, just to win Raven’s favor, so she would be willing to help Hazelle.

It sounded extreme, maybe it was.

But Primrose couldn’t help it. Whenever she looked at Hazelle, she didn’t just see a slave.

She saw the girl she failed to save years ago, her childhood friend who was sold by her own parents to a man outside the kingdom.

Back then, Primrose couldn’t help her. She was taken far away, and even the Duke of Illvaris couldn’t track her down.

Primrose had carried that guilt ever since, and maybe ... just maybe, this was her way of trying to make peace with that regret.

It wasn’t the most noble reason, but did it really matter?

If she could save Hazelle—if she could pull her out of the hell she was trapped in—then wasn’t it worth it?

"I want to give you a second chance," Primrose said gently, pulling away just enough to look her in the eyes. "A real chance to live a better life."

Then, with a soft smile, she asked, "Hazelle ... would you like to be my sister?"

Hazelle looked like she had just been struck by lightning.

The shock on her face made it look like the Queen had just accused her of something awful.

Yeah—it was that shocking.

"What ... what do you mean, Your Majesty?" she stammered, completely stunned. "I don’t understand."

Primrose’s voice remained kind and patient. "I can ask my father to adopt you," she said kindly. "To make you part of our family In that way, you will have a second chance to live."