Rowan loved my Imperial Brother. But the year he fell from grace, I forced him to become my kept man, humiliating him beyond measure. Years later, he raised an army and marched against the crown. The day his cavalry thundered through the Royal City, my father, the Emperor, groveled and offered my Imperial Sister to him. Yet, Declan simply smiled, his gaze shifting to me. “What, is Rowan too afraid to face me?” Everyone said the first thing Declan would do after seizing power was to offer a thousand pieces of gold for my head. But he didn’t know. I was already dead. *** The day Declan’s cavalry shattered the gates of the Royal City, my father, desperate to save his own skin, pushed my Imperial Sister forward. He chuckled, fawning, “General Declan… no, my new Emperor. You always favored Seraphina.” “Now, for the sake of Seraphina and the throne, spare my life?” Seraphina quietly lowered her head, revealing a delicate stretch of white neck, appearing so frail it stirred pity in anyone who saw her. Declan didn’t respond, the sharp blade of his sword still dripping with blood. But I knew he would agree. He had always loved my Imperial Sister. In this vast Royal City, he was cold and distant to everyone, yet for her, he held a special warmth. It was true then, and it was true now. Declan smiled, his eyes holding a casual indifference. “Where is Rowan?” “What, is she too afraid to face me?” I flinched slightly. I never imagined he would ask about me. Everyone in the Royal City knew he loved my Imperial Sister; he’d poured all his tenderness into Seraphina. A perfect match, a love destined by fate. They were meant to be a beautiful story, yet I, in his year of disgrace, had forced him to become my kept man. I had ruined everything. Now that he had seized power, with his beloved by his side, why would he care about my fate? Declan’s eyes twinkled with a chilling amusement as he continued, “Years ago, when the Declan family was framed and their estates seized, the Ninth Princess forced me to be her personal attendant.” “Kneeling in the snow, constant beatings and verbal abuse—none of it was new.” He looked at my father, a half-smile playing on his lips. “Tell me, Your Majesty, shouldn’t the Ninth Princess now kneel in the snow for several nights, to taste the flavor of numbness from the cold?” I instinctively curled my fingers into my palms, a bitter ache in my heart that I couldn’t articulate. So, Declan had asked about me only to… take his revenge. My father, however, breathed a sigh of relief. His gaze darted away, he stammered, “So, the General hates Rowan. But Rowan, she…” His words were cut short. Seraphina snatched a guard’s sword, plunging it through my father’s chest. Blood splattered onto the floor. She dropped the bloodied sword, her hands trembling, watching my father’s eyes widen in disbelief as he gurgled blood and collapsed. Then, she slowly knelt before Declan. She sobbed, timidly raising her head, and quickly clutched at Declan’s robe. “My father, the Emperor, was obsessed with alchemy and disregarded his people. He long ago lost their hearts.” “Seraphina is willing… to sacrifice her family for the greater good. I only ask to remain by the General’s side, even as a common maidservant, to attend to your needs.” “As for my Imperial Sister,” her eyes flickered, she bit her lower lip, omitting the truth, “she already fled with her consort before the General entered the Royal City.” The air hung heavy for a few moments. Declan smiled faintly, then finally raised his hand to help Seraphina to her feet. He tried to force a smile, but it wouldn’t come. His face was blank, cold. “Is that so?” “In that case, issue a command: whoever finds the Ninth Princess shall be promoted, ennobled, and rewarded with a thousand pieces of gold.” He wanted to catch me. For revenge? To vent his anger? But me, I was already long dead.
I suddenly remembered that year. The Declan family was unjustly imprisoned, the men condemned to execution, the women exiled. I begged everyone in the court, but they all shunned the Declan family. Even Seraphina merely watched me, smiling indifferently, when she heard the news. “The Declan family is a lost cause now. What reason is there for a princess like me to save them?” I silently dug my nails into my palms, saying nothing. When the Declan family held power, she flaunted Declan’s affection. Everyone in the Royal City knew of their mutual love, a match seemingly perfect, needing only a marriage contract. Overnight, they became outcasts. How utterly ironic. Later, I knelt before my father, the Emperor, for an entire night, begging him to grant Declan to me. I feigned stubbornness, my tone spoiled, “Declan always hated me. He threw away my sachet, mocked my handwriting, and shamed me in front of all the ladies of the city.” I scoffed, “Now the Declan family has betrayed the crown, a crime deserving of death. Wouldn’t forcing him to be my personal attendant be an even greater humiliation for the Declan name?” “Besides, keeping him alive would only showcase Your Majesty’s benevolence to the world.” I pouted, charmingly pleading with my father, “I grew up without a mother, Father. You are the only one I can rely on. Please, grant your humble daughter this wish.” But in truth, I was not my father’s most beloved daughter. Before he ascended the throne, my mother had been his favorite concubine. But monarchs are inherently suspicious, tolerating no powerful in-laws. Because he feared my grandfather’s military command, my mother lived on thin ice in the palace. A framed poisoning incident led to her demotion, and she lost all favor. As the daughter of a disgraced concubine, I was neglected and unloved from childhood. The Declan family had been loyal for generations. Perhaps my father worried that their ruin would stir public unrest, or perhaps he recalled the faint affection he once held for my mother when he was merely a prince. He granted my request. When I brought Declan out of the royal dungeons, he was burning with fever, his body covered in raw wounds from various tortures. Madame Declan wept, kneeling in the cell, sobbing her gratitude for saving him. I merely gave a cold, mocking laugh. “Save him? He should thank his good looks; only then is he worthy of being my attendant.” It was only then that they realized under what circumstances Declan would be leaving the dungeons. General Declan glared, his eyes fierce enough to tear me apart. He roared, “Declan, if you have any of the Declan family’s honor left, walk the path to death with dignity! Do not cling to life as another’s plaything!” At the time, I didn’t understand what was wrong with clinging to life. Some people use all their strength just to survive. The first thing I did after bringing Declan back to my princess’s residence was to make him kneel in the bitter winter snow, dressed only in thin clothes. I threw writing implements before him, looking down on him. “Mr. Declan was once the most brilliant scholar in the Royal City, his exquisite handwriting renowned throughout the capital. Even my father, the Emperor, praised his powerful strokes and vibrant spirit.” Declan had once publicly shamed me. It was my father’s birthday that year, and I had just been brought out of the neglected wing of the palace. Seraphina suggested a competition of artistic prowess, but then pushed me forward for the calligraphy part. Everyone was curious about me, a princess who had grown up in the cold palace. Someone then asked Declan what he thought of my handwriting. Declan briefly looked up, stating coldly, “Unrefined, hardly fit for public display.” For a long time after that, the noble ladies of the city treated me as a joke. Now, I acted the part of a spoiled, resentful princess, making Declan kneel in the snow and write until his calligraphy satisfied me. He knelt in the snow all night. No matter what he wrote, I found countless flaws. It wasn’t until he collapsed from a raging fever that my servants carried him to a side room. I deliberately tormented and humiliated him. I had to. From the moment I brought him out of the dungeon, my every move was watched by my father’s spies. Only by constantly humiliating him would my father believe I truly held a grudge, quell his suspicions, and genuinely spare Declan’s life. I dared not summon a doctor, nor could I show any outward concern for Declan. Instead, I feigned a cold and had a trusted maid secretly find medicine and give it to him. Under my constant torment, Declan resigned himself to being my kept man. Did he hate me? I didn’t know. But, most likely, yes.
My soul was trapped near Declan. Everyone assumed that after Declan overthrew the former dynasty, he would crown himself Emperor. But he didn’t. He enthroned Arthur, the young son of Prince Yorick. The chubby little boy’s eyes lit up when he saw Declan return to the royal villa. “Brother Declan, have you seen my Ninth Sister?” Arthur was the last bloodline of Prince Yorick. That year, when Prince Yorick was executed for conspiring with the Declan family, his wife hid Arthur among the dead, smuggling him out during the chaos. The seven or eight-year-old boy was forced to live under an assumed name, barely surviving. Three years ago, when I first arrived at my fiefdom, Willowbrook, I found this child who looked somewhat like me. He was emaciated, covered in dirt, struggling to breathe in a puddle of rainwater. Like a dying kitten. Declan paused, his voice cool. “No.” No sooner had he spoken than Seraphina gracefully walked in. Since the throne remained with the royal family, Seraphina’s princess title was still secure. Now a Grand Princess, she adopted an air of authority, asking softly, “Why does His Majesty seek that criminal? She long ago left the Royal City and fled with her consort.” “If it’s important, Your Majesty could tell your Imperial Sister.” The moment he saw Seraphina, the little boy became visibly upset. He scowled, angrily retorting, “That’s a lie. We deliberately took a detour through Willowbrook, and Ninth Sister wasn’t there at all.” “Now that she’s not in the Royal City, where else could she be?” As if to completely distance himself from Seraphina, Arthur quickly added, “And, my Ninth Sister is not a criminal! You’re not my Imperial Sister, stop trying to be familiar with me.” In an instant, Seraphina’s eyes welled up. The delicate beauty’s pretty eyes brimmed with tears, making anyone pity her. She looked at Declan, as if terribly wronged. “Does the General not believe my words either?” Declan remained silent. After a long moment, he said in a flat tone, “The Ninth Princess did indeed flee.” “Your Majesty has just ascended the throne, and matters are complex. For now, please rest assured and stay in the palace. Tomorrow, I will arrange for Grand Tutor Montague to instruct Your Majesty on proper decorum.” Declan’s words confirmed my status as a criminal. He continued, “The Grand Princess is indeed Your Majesty’s Imperial Sister. As a role model for the kingdom, Your Majesty should respect proper etiquette and address her as Imperial Sister.” Arthur’s eyes widened instantly, as if he had heard something unbelievable. He unconsciously stepped back, biting his teeth, glaring fiercely at Declan through tear-filled eyes. “I trusted you so much… If it weren’t to find Ninth Sister, who would want to come to the Royal City and be this lousy Emperor?” Arthur believed that by following Declan to the Royal City, he would find me. He saw Declan as a brother, still thinking Declan would, as before, silently stand by him no matter what. But he had run into Seraphina. She was the woman Declan loved most. No one could ever make her feel wronged in front of him. Towards Seraphina, he was always indulgent. Arthur, furious, stormed out, followed by a flurry of eunuchs and palace maids, causing a commotion. All the attendants in the hall withdrew. Seraphina walked to Declan’s side, speaking in a gentle, deferential tone,
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “298674”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #后宫Harem
Leave a Reply