The Scarred Queen's Rise (Athena) novel Chapter 770

**TITLE: Fake Girl 770**

Maisie strode towards Nova, her expression radiating arrogance and contempt.

The disdain in her eyes was palpable, like a storm brewing on the horizon. “How dare a mute like you cast a spell on the King? You’re inviting your own demise,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

With a flick of her wrist, two maids sprang into action, their movements sharp and efficient. They seized Nova, yanking her forward and forcing her to kneel on the cold, unforgiving ground.

“You can’t treat Nova like this!” The nanny’s voice broke through the tension, laced with desperation and fear. Her heart raced as she witnessed the unfolding cruelty.

But before she could say another word, Maisie’s loyal confidant delivered a swift kick to the nanny’s chest.

The impact sent the poor woman sprawling to the floor, a gasp escaping her lips as blood trickled from her mouth.

Nova’s heart raced with panic, her mind screaming for help. She shook her head vigorously, her hands moving in frantic gestures, her eyes wide with pleading. *Please, don’t hurt the nanny,* they seemed to say.

Tears streamed down her face, each drop a testament to her helplessness. Once, she had been a mere shadow, a silent observer in a world that overlooked her. Now, however, she had clawed her way into the corridors of power, and yet here she was, reduced to this.

Fueled by jealousy, Maisie struck Nova across the face with a vicious slap.

The sharpness of her nails left angry red scratches on Nova’s delicate skin, a cruel reminder of the pain inflicted.

Nova instinctively covered her face, collapsing to the ground, her features twisted in agony, unable to voice her suffering.

“You wretched creature, you’re unworthy of being a consort,” Maisie hissed, her foot rising ominously. With a forceful stomp, she crushed Nova’s hand beneath her heel, reveling in the power she wielded. “Let’s see how you charm the King now, with fingers broken and useless.”

As she pressed down mercilessly, the sound of bones cracking filled the air, mingling with Nova’s silent cries of torment.

A wave of satisfaction washed over Maisie, her heart swelling as she watched Nova writhe in pain.

Her eyes fell upon an embroidery frame nearby, a symbol of Nova’s previous accomplishments. With a malicious grin, she picked up a pair of scissors and began to shred the fabric into confetti-like pieces, each snip a strike against her rival’s spirit.

Still unsatisfied, she kicked the frame with all her might, splintering it into a pile of worthless debris.

Nova whimpered, shaking her head in a frantic plea for mercy, but Maisie was relentless, tossing the remnants of the embroidery frame out of the hall with a satisfying crash.

Just then, a high-pitched voice rang out from outside. “The King has arrived.”

Panic washed over Maisie, draining the color from her face.

“What is the King doing back? Didn’t he leave the palace?” she stammered, her mind racing. If she hadn’t known Ray had departed, she would never have dared to unleash such cruelty.

A dark figure surged into the room, and Ray entered with an icy demeanor, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the hall.

His sharp gaze swept over the scene, landing on Nova, who lay crumpled on the floor, her fingers a gruesome mess of blood and pain.

Maisie’s heart dropped, her panic escalating as she realized the gravity of her actions.

Her legs trembled beneath her, collapsing into a kneel as she stuttered, “Your Majesty.”

Before Ray could utter a word, she burst into tears, her voice quaking with false contrition. “Your Majesty, I… I didn’t mean for this to happen! I was just trying to befriend Nova, but she fell and hurt herself. Please, punish me instead!”

Ray’s gaze hardened as he took in Nova’s pale face, the bright red marks marring her features.

A bloody bruise marred her delicate skin, and at that moment, something within him snapped.

He rushed forward, scooping Nova into his arms, his voice laced with urgency. “Call for the imperial physician! Now!”

Without a backward glance at Maisie, he carried Nova out of the hall, leaving her to stew in her own dread.

The imperial physician arrived swiftly, and Ray confronted him, his expression a storm of concern. “Will this injury leave a scar on Nova’s face?”

The physician approached cautiously, examining the damage with meticulous care.

Turning to Ray, he bowed deeply, his hands trembling slightly. “Your Majesty, the injury is serious. If not treated properly, it is likely to leave a scar.”

He had always been drawn to her because her eyes mirrored those of Athena, a haunting reminder of a past love.

He approached her, an almost tender expression on his face as he reached out to caress her cheek.

Maisie’s heart raced, a mix of excitement and dread flooding her veins. *Could it be true?*

But then, in a chilling whisper, Ray’s voice turned icy. “Maisie, if I desired something from you, would you be willing to give it to me?”

“Your Majesty, as long as you’re not angry, I would do anything for you,” she declared boldly, her heart swelling with emotion.

She looked up at him, a shy smile gracing her lips. “I adore you.”

“Then I want those eyes of yours,” he stated, his tone casual yet ominous.

Maisie blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “You’re joking, right? My eyes are part of me. How could I…?”

But her laughter faded as horror dawned upon her, the realization hitting her like a cold wave.

Before she could react, Ray had already pushed her back, and several royal attendants seized her arms, holding her down with a vice-like grip. “What are you doing? You can’t treat me like this! My brother is your great general!” she screamed, panic rising in her chest.

Ray’s expression darkened at her shrill voice, irritation flaring within him.

The royal attendant exchanged glances with two young eunuchs, who stepped forward, tightening their grip on Maisie as the attendant brandished a dagger from the tray.

With a swift, ruthless motion, he plunged the dagger towards Maisie’s eyes.

Screams filled the hall, echoing with her agony as she writhed on the floor, the sound a haunting melody of despair.

Her eyes, once vibrant and full of life, were presented on a tray, a macabre offering to the King.

Ray glanced at them, his expression void of any emotion, disappointment etched into his features. “Why don’t they resemble hers? Dispose of them and feed them to the dogs.”