EVERYONE FEARED THE DUKE’S DAUGHTER… BECAUSE NO ONE HAD EVER TOLD HER “NO” UNTIL THIS HAPPENED

Chapter 5

The days that followed were a blur of humiliation and disbelief.

Victoria spent the first week convinced that the situation would somehow correct itself. Surely there had been a mistake in the documents. Surely one of the lawyers would discover an error. Surely someone would remember that she was the Duke’s daughter.

But reality continued moving forward without her permission.

The small cottage near the northern boundary of the estate became their new home. It had once housed a distant relative, decades earlier, and it showed. The stone walls were stained by age. Paint peeled from the window frames. The front gate leaned to one side. The garden had been left to the weeds for so long that the original paths had disappeared entirely.

The worst part was the view. From the upper floor windows, Victoria could still see the great manor in the distance — the tall towers, the elegant gardens, the sparkling windows reflecting sunlight. Every morning, she woke to the sight of the life she had lost. Every evening, she watched lights glow from rooms that had once belonged to her family.

The view tormented her.

On her first morning in the cottage, Victoria entered the kitchen expecting breakfast. A single loaf of bread sat on the wooden table. No silver serving trays. No pastries. No fresh fruits. No servants waiting nearby.

She stared at the bread. “Where is the rest?”

Duchess Anne looked up from the stove. “There is no rest. This is what we have.”

Victoria’s mouth opened and closed. “But I’m hungry.”

“Then eat the bread.”

The meal was the most miserable she had ever endured. The bread was dry. The butter was bland. The tea was lukewarm. She complained through every bite.

The complaints continued for weeks. The house was too cold. The furniture was too uncomfortable. The bedrooms were too small. The food was boring. Nothing met her expectations. Whenever she wanted something, she instinctively called for servants.

“Mary.”

Silence.

“Jane.”

Nothing.

“Can someone bring me hot water?”

The only response was the creaking of the old house settling around her.

More than once, Victoria stood waiting impatiently for assistance that never came. The absence felt unnatural. She had spent her entire life surrounded by people who anticipated her needs before she even voiced them. Now she was alone in a house that required more work than she had ever imagined.

Meanwhile, Duchess Anne quietly struggled to keep them afloat. Money disappeared faster than Victoria realized. The Duchess began selling possessions. At first, it was easy to hide. A decorative vase vanished. An expensive clock disappeared. Several pieces of silverware were quietly packed away.

Victoria barely noticed. Her attention remained fixed on her own discomfort.

Weeks passed. Then came the jewelry.

Anne parted with necklaces she had worn for years. Elegant bracelets vanished from her dressing table. A collection of rings disappeared one by one.

Victoria finally began noticing. “Where is your emerald necklace?”

“I sold it.”

The answer surprised her. “Why?”

“We need the money.”

Victoria frowned. She wanted to say something sharp, something dismissive, but the words died in her throat. For the first time, she looked at her mother properly. The dark circles beneath her eyes. The gray streaks in her hair that had not been there a year ago. The way her shoulders seemed to curl inward, as if she was trying to make herself smaller.

Victoria said nothing.

But something stirred inside her. Something uncomfortable. Something that felt like the first crack in a wall she had built around her heart.

As autumn turned toward winter, more possessions disappeared. Paintings that had hung in the manor for generations were sold. Fine dresses were exchanged for money. Family heirlooms followed. The cottage grew emptier with each passing month.

One evening, Victoria entered the sitting room and stopped. A cabinet that had belonged to her grandmother was gone. The space it once occupied looked strangely bare — a rectangle of darker wallpaper marking where it had stood for decades.

The sight hit her harder than she expected. For the first time, unease settled deep inside her chest. The losses were becoming impossible to ignore.

But pride continued blinding her. She still believed her circumstances were temporary. She still believed someone would fix everything. She still believed life would somehow return to normal.

And while she stared out the window at the manor that was no longer hers, the reality her mother feared most crept steadily closer.

Soon there would be very little left to sell.