Rejected No More: The Exiled Princess Returns

Charity stepped out of the damp, dark tunnel and into the blinding glare of the commercial corridor.

Neon lights flashed in aggressive colors, and massive holographic advertisements floated in the air, selling luxury goods to those who could actually afford them. The air here was thick with the cloying scent of cheap synthetic perfumes and processed street food.

Charity's oversized, bloated silhouette and her low-pulled hood made her stick out like a sore thumb among the relatively well-dressed crowd.

The locals—the gossiping masses of the corridor—immediately noticed her.

Whispers rippled through the crowd. Someone pointed a finger. A harsh, undisguised laugh echoed off the metal walls. They recognized the infamous, exiled matriarch, mocking her pathetic fall from grace.

Charity took a slow, deep breath, forcing the humiliation down. She locked her spine straight, kept her eyes fixed forward, and walked right through the center of the crowd.

She followed her memories to a large, brightly lit comprehensive supply station. The automatic glass doors slid open with a soft chime.

Charity bypassed the expensive tech aisles and headed straight for the basic kitchenware. She carefully inspected a durable alloy frying pan and picked out a few jars of cheap, synthetic spices.

She was holding two different jars of black pepper, comparing the prices, when the sharp, rhythmic clicking of expensive heels stopped right behind her.

"Oh my, if it isn't our esteemed High Priestess," a sickly-sweet, venomous voice chimed. "Have you really fallen so low that you have to buy this cheap garbage yourself?"

Charity turned around. Standing there was Alys Schultz, the daughter of a powerful rival matriarch, dressed in an immaculate, high-end silk dress.

Beside Alys stood Walter, a young, nervous-looking employee of the supply station, who was clearly one of Alys's desperate orbiters.

Alys intentionally raised her voice, ensuring every shopper in the vicinity turned to watch the spectacle. Their eyes were filled with eager malice.

Charity looked at Alys with a completely blank expression. She didn't scream. She didn't throw a punch like the old Charity would have.

"Excuse me," Charity said flatly, her voice devoid of any emotion.

The absolute dismissal in Charity's tone hit Alys like a slap to the face. Alys's fake smile shattered, replaced by a flash of pure, ugly spite.

Alys shot a highly subtle, sharp look at Walter. Walter gave a microscopic nod.

Charity turned her back on them, holding her frying pan and spices, and walked toward the checkout counter. Alys and Walter trailed closely behind her.

As Charity passed a brightly lit display case holding high-grade energy cores, Walter suddenly sped up. He slammed his shoulder hard into Charity's side.

Charity stumbled, her heavy body swaying, nearly dropping the frying pan.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Walter gasped, putting on a flawless act of panic. As he reached out as if to steady her, his hand darted out and brushed against the deep pocket of Charity's oversized cloak.

Charity regained her balance. She shot Walter a cold, piercing glare, completely unaware of the heavy object now resting in her pocket. She continued to the checkout.

She placed her items on the counter and handed over her nearly empty identification card.

The cashier eyed her with blatant disgust, swiped the card, and handed back the bag.

Charity grabbed the plastic handles and walked toward the exit gates.

The second her boot crossed the sensor line, a deafening, piercing red alarm blared through the entire supply station.

Heavy metal security shutters slammed down from the ceiling, sealing the exit and trapping Charity inside.

The station's lights flashed a violent warning red. Four massive, heavily armed security guards immediately rushed out from the back, forming a tight circle around her.

Alys stood in the crowd, a vicious, triumphant smirk twisting her lips. She pointed a manicured finger at Charity and screamed, "Oh my god! She's stealing!"

Charity stood perfectly still in the center of the hostile crowd. Her eyes swept over the guards, then locked onto Alys. Her gaze turned to absolute ice.