Fiora''s teeth chattered as panic set in. She knew her uncle wasn''t bluffing. He really would throw her out of the pce if he


    had to.


    Desperate, Fiora tried to y on his sympathy, bringing up her mother. "Uncle, Mother''s health is already fragile. If she hears about this, it could be too much for her."


    Tom''s expression turned frigid. He''d thought Fiora was just spoiled and reckless, but he hadn''t expected her to manipte even her own mother''s condition to avoid punishment. At that moment, he lost anyst hope of redeeming her.


    "From now on," Tom said coldly, "you''re no longer Princess Fior. You''ll work as a maid in the pce for three months. After that, we''ll see if you''ve earned back your title."


    The words hit Fiora like a thunderp, and her face crumpled as tears welled up. ''How can he do this to me? I was born a princess! What right did he have to take that away? Fiora thought


    News of Fiora''s demotion quickly spread throughout the pce. Nurses at Royal Hospital whispered about the fall of the once-proud princess.


    "My uncle''s a viscount, and yesterday, I saw the princess, or maid now, scrubbing floors with a sour face!" one nurseughed. "I remember her sneering, ''I''m a princess. Who do you think you are? Well, look at her now!" another said. "None of the other princes or princesses act as spoiled as her," a nurse said.


    "Isn''t the royal family embarrassed by this?" someone asked.


    "It''s more than punishment. Fiora abused her status to kidnap someone. This is a warning to everyone else," another nurse said.


    Meanwhile, Maeve was in the pce garden, discreetly eavesdropping. She couldn''t help but marvel at Tom''s bold approach. Demoting a princess to a maid was extreme, but if anything could get through to her, this might be it, though Maeve found it unlikely. Beside Maeve, Byron sighed, watching her practically lean into the bushes to catch every word. Gently, he pulled her back. "Is this gossip really worth it?"


    Maeve continued listening in, saying, "It''s like hearing a live broadcast. They''re saying Fiora tried to cry to the help but got turned away."


    queen


    for


    Another bit of gossip caught Maeve''s attention. "Oh! Apparently, there''s a princess who wraps herself in stic wrap at banquets to look thinner!"


    Maeve continued excitedly, "And then there''s the eighteenth prince of Rebon who once got so drunk he thought he was a goldfish and nearly drowned in a fountain!"


    Maeve gasped, her face flushing as she eximed, "And there''s the earl and his wife who were found fooling around in broad daylight. Before Maeve could delve further, Byron scooped her up. Startled, Maeve clutched his neck, her eyes wide. "What are you doing?" "You should go back and rest," Byron reminded.


    "But I need to hear what happened next!"


    Despite Maeve''s protests, Byron carried her back to the ward. Maeve mumbledints the entire way, sulking that he''d Chapter 437


    ruined her love for juicy pce gossip.Copyright by N?v/elDrama.Org.


    Byron ignored her pouting and, picking up a plump peach from the fruit te, asked, "Do you want a bite?"


    With the temptation of the delicious fruit, Maeve''s mood brightened instantly. "Yes, please!"


    When Byron picked up the fruit knife to peel the fruit, Maeve''s expression changed instantly. When she saw the tip of the knife pointing toward her, a wave of dizziness hit her. Her legs went weak, and she sank into a seat. Luckily, the bed was behind her. The sudden movement made a loud sound, and her legs felt numb from the shock.


    al


    Byron noticed her distress and after realizing what was going on he put the knife away. Maeve felt better, but her face remained pale.


    "Are you still feeling unwell?" Byron asked as he walked over and gently lifted her into his arms. He spoke softly, "It''s alright, don''t be afraid."


    Maeve focused on her breathing, trying her best not to dwell on the terrifying images that shed in her mind. A thought suddenly appeared in her mind, making her grab Byron''s arm. "Can you help me find a few things? Needles and scissors." Byron seemed to understand what she wanted. He frowned slightly. "Don''t push yourself."


    "I want to try," Maeve replied, clenching her fists secretly.


    Byron stepped out for a moment and returned with the items she had asked for.


    Maeve''s guess was only half right. The needle was fine, but she still had a strong fear of the scissors. It wasn''t just a simple fear of cutting tools. It was something deeper.


    Her heart sank, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness washed over her. ''How am I going to make clothes anymore?" Maeve thought.


    Late that night, the ward was silent.


    Maeve woke from a nightmare, drenched in cold sweat. Her nightgown clung to her skin. She pressed her hand to her chest, trying to suppress the suffocating feeling rising in her throat, doing her best not to think about the chainsaw that had fallen. But the more she tried, the clearer the images appeared.


    I can''t even touch scissors! What would my future as a designer look like without my skills?'' Maevemented as she stared at her trembling hands, feeling despair settle deep within her.


    Suddenly, Byron''s steady hand covered hers. His voice, low and warm, broke through her thoughts. "Maeve, I''m here. You''re not alone."


    His words brought tears to Maeve''s eyes. Sniffling, Maeve nestled closer, her voice barely a whisper. "Ronny, can you help me fall asleep, just this once? I don''t care how."