In Sign Language, I Hear You

Someone once told her her world was a kind of utopia. Her sister said there was a place people dream about, a world they call fantasy. They said Ivy herself was something many wished to be-a princess, beautiful, powerful, dragons circling her like whispers of strength. They said they wanted her life. But how could that be? When her own life had been soaked in wickedness. Blood had lingered in her veins, sticky, revolting. The walls around her, patterned with dragons, were cold, empty monuments to what people called imperial grandeur. A name adored by all. Silent witnesses to a childhood of violence, cruelty, and thoughts that tore at her own mind. Love had never been there. Not once. The home her mother had ruled-the throne of her childhood-had been a cage. Until an ordinary woman, whom she soon called sister, came. And everything shifted. Love appeared. Fragile, uncertain, yet present in a world that had long forgotten it. Her sister said, [ A mother will always love her children.] The words burned. Curiosity awakened. The rage she had buried stirred. And beneath it, something else: a truth she could almost touch. Family is someone you can rely on. But the truth stung. Painfully. Her world had always been darkness, emptiness, the only life she had ever known. How could she reconcile that with the reality she now saw? Her mother. Immense, powerful, adored by nature itself. Cursed, too. By fate. By a life that had been merciless. By her own choices that left Ivy behind. This is the story of a princess raised in chaos, of a fate toying with lives. A story of a daughter confronting the hidden tragedy of her mother. Deciding whether to protect her. Or destroy her. In a world where power and love collide, Ivy must carry the weight of choices, inheritances, and the fragile possibility that even in tragedy, redemption may exist.