In my past life, I snatched up the guaranteed early admission to Harvard that a high-society heiress had thrown away.
After graduation, I married into a dynasty of wealth, transforming from a small-town girl into the wife of the city’s most powerful man. By twenty-eight, I had flawlessly navigated every single crossroad that could alter my destiny.
But then I woke up, and I was eighteen again.
And floating before my eyes were lines of text, like comments in a live stream.
[Chat: The MC is so damn lucky. She just swooped in and stole the supporting character’s entire life.]
[Chat: In the last life, it was like the heiress was cursed or something. Threw away her Harvard acceptance to run off with some punk to a third-rate college, and even pushed away the rich guy who’d adored her since childhood. She had a royal flush and played it like a losing hand!]
[Chat: She was nerfed by the plot to make way for the main character, duh! Thank god she’s been reborn. This time it’s gotta be the ultimate revenge story!]
[Chat: I can’t wait to see how Luna becomes the main character now that she can’t ride the heiress’s coattails!]
That girl, Luna? That’s me.
But…
Who says I can’t be the main character?
The one who only wants something back after they’ve lost it… they’ve already lost the game from the start.
01
My eyes fluttered open, the world swimming back into focus. The first thing I saw was the ecstatic, almost manic glee in my deskmate Scarlett’s eyes.
She bolted out the back of the classroom, sprinting to the room next door and shouting for Shaffer—the man who, in another lifetime, became my husband.
She threw herself onto him, sobbing her heart out.
“Shaffer, I won’t be a fool again! I swear it!”
Shaffer froze for a long moment before a look of pure joy washed over his face. He fumbled to comfort her, his hands hovering awkwardly.
The spectral comments appeared again.
[Chat: Now THIS is how it’s supposed to be. The Manhattan heiress belongs with the tycoon’s son. What right does some country bumpkin like Luna have to a power-fantasy plot?!]
[Chat: Luna is nothing but a thief, a bottom-feeder! We don’t acknowledge a main character like her!]
[Chat: Good, the heiress finally woke up. This time, Luna can get sent packing back to whatever hick town she came from!]
I stared blankly at the calculus workbook on my desk. The intricate equations were a stark declaration that I had truly returned to my senior year of high school.
There was one month left of classes before final exams.
Someone slid into the seat beside me. Scarlett’s eyes were red-rimmed but shone with a brilliant, triumphant light. She shot me a smug smirk, her face a mask of absolute certainty.
“I’m going to take back everything that’s mine, Luna. Just you watch.”
I just smiled, saying nothing.
I was looking forward to it, too.
To see what path I would forge for myself, now that I had a second chance.
02
The school bell shrieked, and our homeroom teacher walked in, beaming.
A look of unadulterated joy exploded across Scarlett’s face.
The comments streamed by in a frenzy.
[Chat: Here it is, here it is! The heiress’s early admission letter!]
[Chat: This is the first turning point for Luna’s destiny. If she hadn’t taken the spot that belonged to the heiress, how could she have ever gotten into Harvard?]
[Chat: People like her who steal the fruits of others’ labor without putting in the work are just rats in the gutter. And then she even stole the heiress’s fiancé and became the envied wife of a tycoon. Shameless!]
A moment later, our teacher spoke.
“Scarlett Vance, congratulations! You’ve officially received an early acceptance offer from Harvard!”
As a wave of applause filled the room, he looked at me with a touch of sympathy.
“Though you and Scarlett both won awards in the National Math Olympiad, there was only one spot for early admission based on that achievement.”
In my past life, Scarlett had beaten my score by a mere half a point. When the rankings came out, I was the one cut.
But then, to everyone’s astonishment, she had refused it.
“Sir, getting in through early admission is the easy way out. Give the spot to someone who needs it more.”
That one sentence made the entire class see her in a new light. Our teacher had even joked with her.
“Well then, I’ll be waiting for you to make valedictorian and bring glory to our school!”
The reality, however, was that she had been completely brainwashed by her bad-boy boyfriend, vowing to attend the same college as him to live out some grand, dramatic romance. She was sick of their current life of sneaking around, of having to steal moments just to hold hands.
Back then, Scarlett was drowned in praise.
But I, the one who received the cast-off offer, became the butt of everyone’s jokes.
“Charity case.”
“Bottom-feeder.”
“Shameless.”
I didn’t care.
My grades hovered right on the edge of the Ivy League cutoff. I cherished that opportunity. Scarlett had the wealth and connections to absorb the blow of a less-than-perfect transcript, but for a girl from a small town like me, there was no safety net. A stable future was far more important than a few thoughtless insults.
But this time, things were different.
Scarlett’s voice rang out, firm and clear.
“I accept the early admission to Harvard!”
03
Amidst a chorus of envious sighs, she turned to me.
“You must be crushed, Luna, aren’t you?”
[Chat: Oh, you know she is. Luna’s probably grinding her teeth to dust right now!]
[Chat: This is the best part! Just thinking about the heiress dumping that delinquent loser and going to the same university as the male lead is so satisfying!]
Scarlett took a deep, shaky breath, her body trembling slightly as if the reality of her rebirth was finally sinking in.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “This acceptance letter is mine.”
I offered a faint smile. “Congratulations.”
Ten years.
In my previous life, from eighteen to twenty-eight, I’d powered through my bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate degrees, all while fighting my way up the ladder at the Astor Corporation.
Meanwhile, Scarlett and her delinquent boyfriend were playing games of cat and mouse, having tearful fights, secret abortions, and dramatic episodes of running away from home.
What I had over her wasn’t just a decade of knowledge, but also sharp judgment and the unshakeable confidence that comes from weathering storms.
A single set of final exams.
This time around, I could trust myself completely. No slip-ups, no second-guessing.
But Scarlett saw my composure as a fragile front. She shot me a disdainful look.
“I can’t wait to see the look on your face in two months when final grades are released!”
She was gloating, utterly convinced she was about to witness my downfall.
04
Her victory lap lasted less than a single class period. The moment Zane appeared, the color drained from her face.
Zane was a real troublemaker, and also Scarlett’s current boyfriend.
As the sole heiress to the immense Vance family fortune, one of the city’s most prominent families, Zane’s motives for pursuing her were painfully obvious.
He stormed into the classroom, his face a thundercloud of fury, and kicked my desk with a loud bang.
“You said we were going to the same college! What the hell is this now?”
Scarlett glared at him, her eyes blazing. “Why should I listen to you? With your grades, you’ll be lucky to get into a no-name state school. Who do you think you are to tell me what to do!”
The commotion drew a crowd of onlookers at the classroom door.
Shaffer, in the class next door, heard Scarlett’s raised voice and rushed in, immediately placing himself in front of her as a shield.
His voice was cold and hard. “If you want to cause a scene, get out. This isn’t the place for your theatrics.”
Humiliated, Zane’s anger boiled over. He pointed a shaking finger at Scarlett, his words turning vile. “You’re still hung up on this prissy little bitch? You have no idea, do you? She’s dying for it, said she’d give me her first time right after graduation.”
He let out a harsh, ugly laugh. “Never thought I’d see a high-society princess so desperate to get into my pants. Pathetic, isn’t she?”
Scarlett trembled with rage, then suddenly whirled around and pointed at me. “It was you, wasn’t it? You’re mad you didn’t get my spot, so you brought him here to threaten me! To ruin my reputation! You’re shameless, Luna! You and him, you’re both just trying to steal what’s mine!”
The chat exploded with indignation on Scarlett’s behalf, cursing me out.
[Chat: I knew it! How else would Zane find out so fast? Luna must have been in on it with him from the start!]
[Chat: The heiress was totally manipulated by Zane last time. She’s innocent and kind, raised like a princess by her family and Shaffer. How would she ever recognize a calculating predator like Zane? And with a schemer like Luna in the mix, it’s no wonder she fell into their trap.]
[Chat: Last time, she suffered so much because of those two. Now that she’s awake, they’re going to get what’s coming to them!]
I almost laughed out loud. “If you’re having delusions, go see a shrink! I haven’t moved from my desk this entire class, are you blind? Don’t you dare try to blame me for the mess you dragged in.”
The surrounding students exchanged glances, nodding in agreement with my words. Scarlett’s face flushed a deep crimson, and she fell silent.
Zane was kicked out, but he left chaos in his wake. My textbooks were scattered all over the floor.
I quietly bent down to pick them up, my eyes meeting Shaffer’s as he did the same.
05
Our eyes locked, and for a heart-stopping second, it felt like yesterday.
Just a moment ago, it seemed, he was whispering my name in bed, gently soothing me after we’d made love. We had been married for three years, and we were planning to have a child.
Then I woke up, and I was eighteen again.
The young man before me was no longer the man I knew.
At eighteen, Shaffer Astor did not love Luna.
Yet, at this moment, he was looking at me with a flicker of confusion. “Have we… met somewhere before?”
I paused. For three years of high school, I had been buried in my books. We’d had zero interaction. Even after I became Scarlett’s deskmate this semester, she was too busy with Zane to ever give Shaffer the time of day, forbidding him from even coming to our classroom to see her.
Why would he suddenly ask me that?
Before I could answer, a panicked Scarlett cut in. She shoved me aside, planting herself in front of Shaffer. “Shaffer, don’t be ridiculous! She’s just some girl from the middle of nowhere. How could she possibly have ever crossed paths with us?”
Shaffer’s gaze wavered, but he eventually nodded. “Sorry. I must have been mistaken.”
He handed me the notebook I’d dropped. It was open to a page where I’d scribbled dense formulas, solving the most difficult problem from the national competition.
Shaffer looked surprised. “You actually solved it? Can I see your methodology?”
Shaffer was the top student in our entire year, but he had skipped the competition for Scarlett’s sake.
Instantly, Scarlett tensed up and snatched the notebook from his hand. “Shaffer, why are you asking her? Her score wasn’t even as high as mine. What kind of brilliant solution could she possibly have? Besides, if even you couldn’t solve it, how could she?”
She looked like she was on the verge of tears. Having been reborn, she was terrified of making a single misstep, of repeating the mistakes of her past life and pushing the man who loved her most into someone else’s arms.
“Shaffer, you’re not even asking if I was scared… Don’t you care about me anymore?”
The chat was filled with reassurances.
[Chat: Don’t you worry, heiress! Shaffer would abandon anyone before he’d abandon you.]
[Chat: Even in the last life, after he married Luna, the second he heard Scarlett was in trouble, didn’t he drop everything and run to her? Miss Scarlett is the queen of his heart.]
[Chat: I don’t know… I feel like seven years later, he genuinely loved Luna. They went through so much together, from college to the Astor Corporation. It’s natural they’d fall for each other. And Luna is brilliant in her own right. It was Scarlett who chose the wrong guy.]
[Chat: Is the person above me brainwashed by the plot? It’s obvious the later events were plot-driven. The MC is just a country girl. How could she ever compare to the heiress! Besides, who knows if her intentions toward the male lead were pure in the first place?]
Not good enough for Shaffer. This wasn’t the first time I’d heard those words.
In college, we began collaborating on research projects. Even our professors said we were intellectual equals, a perfect match.
But no one ever said we were suited to be together, to get married.
Because a single cufflink Shaffer wore was worth more than I could earn in a year. Meanwhile, I was still wearing a pair of canvas shoes that had been washed until they were faded and white.
Class was an abyss that an ordinary person could strive their entire life to cross and still never reach.
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Everyone in the palace knew that for a scrap of food, you could make the slow-witted princess do anything.
The Grand Tutor, a man as radiant and pure as the moon, once gave me a small cake. For that single kindness, I trailed after him for years.
Though he never showed it openly, in private he was disgusted by me, calling me shameless, so desperate I would throw myself onto any man’s bed.
I didn’t know what “shameless” or “throwing myself onto a bed” meant. I only knew that the Tutor gave me delicious things to eat. He was a good person. I liked him, and I wanted to repay his kindness.
Then, news of a devastating military defeat came from the Northern Marches. My father’s most beloved daughter, the Third Princess, was to be sent away in a political marriage to seal a truce.
The Duchess, the Third Princess’s mother and the King’s most favored mistress, came to me herself. She brought a whole box of marzipan sweets and begged me to take her daughter’s place.
I wiped the crumbs from my lips and gave a careless wave of my hand. “Your Grace need not worry. It’s just a marriage, isn’t it? If my sister doesn’t want to go, I’ll go for her.”
1.
It was only when the guards at the King’s Solar blocked my path that I realized I might have agreed too easily.
My father, the King, seemed to have forgotten he even had a daughter like me, so naturally, the royal guards refused to announce my presence.
But the Duchess had given me an entire box of almond cakes. If I failed, wouldn’t I have eaten her gift for nothing?
I scratched my head, and then an idea sparked. I turned and shouted toward the heavy oak doors of the study.
“Father! Father! It’s Sixteen! Open the door!”
A guard roared, “Insolence! This is the King’s Solar! How dare a wisp of a girl like you cause such a ruckus!”
They leveled their pikes, about to drive me away.
I scrambled to my feet and took off, running in circles around the grand entrance, yelling as I went.
“Father! Father! It’s Sixteen! Sixteen has business with you!”
“Who is making that dreadful noise!?”
The doors to the Solar were suddenly thrown open, and a group of men strode out.
The Duchess had told me what to look for: my father would be wearing gold, embroidered with a great wyvern.
I spotted him instantly. Panting for breath, I waved at him.
“Father, please tell them to stop chasing me. Sixteen is about to die of exhaustion.”
The King waved a dismissive hand, and the guards retreated. He frowned down at me. “You are Sixteen? Which Sixteen?”
I dropped to my knees with a thud, bowing my head twice before answering in a clear, bright voice. “Sixteen lives in the east wing of the Saltwind Hall. My mother was the Lady Linnea.”
“Which Lady Linnea?”
An old chamberlain beside him leaned in and whispered, “She was a handmaiden to the late Queen, Your Majesty. She displeased you on her first night in your service and was never summoned again. The princess she bore was… never given a formal name.”
2.
A lady-in-waiting who lived in the west wing of Saltwind Hall once told me my mother had been a lamp-lighter in the Queen’s own chambers.
When the Queen fell ill, the King, staying in her wing, had simply pointed to a handmaiden to serve him for the night.
My mother, who was chosen, was devastated. She was only a year away from being released from service. Her betrothed was a guard in the palace. They were deeply in love, planning to marry the moment she was free.
She begged the King to spare her. Her pleas only enraged him. He took her by force, then tossed her aside with the minor title of ‘Lady’ and banished her to Saltwind Hall, which was no better than a dungeon.
Even when she carried me for ten months and gave birth, he never once came to see us.
He never even gave me a name.
The King still didn’t seem to remember which one was Lady Linnea, or which was Princess Sixteen.
He smiled, a false, glittering thing. “Little Sixteen, what business do you have with your father?”
“I want to get married!”
I looked up at him and smiled back. “Sixteen is all grown up! I can get married now!”
The somber mood in the Solar instantly dissolved into booming laughter. The King pulled me to my feet, ruffling my hair as if I were his most cherished daughter.
“And who does my Little Sixteen wish to marry? Shall your father arrange it for you?”
The old chamberlain chimed in playfully, “I’ve heard that Princess Sixteen is quite close with the Lord Tutor, Lucian.”
The King’s eyebrows shot up in feigned surprise. “Little Sixteen, you fancy Lord Lucian?”
Across the room, Lucian’s face changed. He pressed his lips into a thin line, his scorching gaze fixed on me. He looked… nervous.
He was probably terrified I would say yes.
I always knew that Lucian didn’t like me. He was a good man, though. We met because he helped me.
One winter, he found me being forced to crawl on all fours like a dog by a few cruel pages, all for a handful of charcoal. He dealt with them harshly and left me with all the silver he had in his purse.
I already knew who he was. He was the tutor to my elder brother, the Crown Prince, and my third sister, Princess Isadora. He often came to the palace to instruct them.
Because the servants all called me “Sixteen the Simpleton,” I was determined to become clever. A blind laundress told me that reading books could make one smart, so I would often squeeze through a hole in the wall to listen from behind the hedges as Lucian taught the prince and princess in the gardens.
He taught so beautifully. But I was too dull. After all those lessons, I only remembered a single line: This world a fleeting dream, our lives but winter’s briefest gleam.
I was afraid I would forget it, so I stitched the words into the lining of my warmest tunic, turning it over to read them from time to time. I thought that one day, I would ask Lucian what the poem meant.
But not long after, Lucian, who would sometimes bring me little things, suddenly began to despise me.
It was during a palace feast. A few dissolute young nobles found me in the gardens, likely mistaking me for a witless servant girl. They offered me a plate of pastries to recite some lewd verses. One of them even asked if I wanted to be his courtesan, saying I’d be well-fed and warmly dressed if I went with him.
I didn’t know what a courtesan was. But being well-fed and warm had been my greatest dream for over a decade. I looked at him with shining eyes and asked when he would take me with him.
Lucian must have seen it. He dragged me away, his grip so tight I thought my bones would shatter. When I struggled, he shoved me from him, his voice thick with fury.
“You are a princess of this kingdom! How can you debase yourself so? Fawning over any man who shows you the slightest attention, practically throwing yourself at him! A princess of this kingdom should model herself after Princess Isadora—proud, unyielding, the equal of any man!”
I stood frozen by his tirade, tears streaming down my face, utterly bewildered and too scared to move.
I didn’t understand why he was so angry. This was how my mother had kept me alive. After she died, this was how I had kept myself alive. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing wrong with it.
Especially after the war started, our situation grew even more desperate. We did far worse things. The Queen had ordered the palace to be frugal, but that frugality was taken from the rations of unfavored consorts and their children. Our monthly allowances were skimmed at every level, leaving us with almost nothing. If a favored lady ran short of charcoal or some other luxury, we were the ones who suffered.
Reciting a few bawdy lines? If it could earn me a bowl of soup or a few lumps of coal, I would have gladly recited them a thousand times a day.
But Lucian’s reaction told me, for the first time, that perhaps it was wrong.
I didn’t know what to say. I just wiped at my tears.
Seeing my silence, he stormed away in bitter disappointment. He never brought me anything again.
And so, I continued to live as I always had, curled up in the cold, forgotten Saltwind Hall, surviving day by day. I endured the teasing and torment of the pages and maids, and felt a surge of joy if I managed to snatch a piece of meat from a dog’s bowl.
3.
One day, I was discovered eavesdropping on Lucian’s lesson. The guards beat me half to death.
It was my third sister, Princess Isadora, who saved me. She gave me medicine for my wounds.
A life saved is a debt greater than heaven itself. I had to repay her.
Now, with the northern army defeated, the chieftain of the Vargan tribes was demanding tribute. He had once been a political hostage in our kingdom, and his time here had been miserable. He was a savage, bloodthirsty man. He had escaped back to his homeland with half a breath left in his body, killed his own father, and then led his warriors straight for our borders.
He had conquered fifty-eight towns in the Marches, his sword pointed at the capital itself. He declared he didn’t want the throne; he wanted a princess of our kingdom.
Almost everyone assumed that our most dazzling princess, Isadora, would be the one sent.
The Duchess told me that the news had made Isadora unable to eat or sleep, and she had fallen gravely ill. The King had convened his council for three days and three nights, but with our best generals wounded or dead, not a single nobleman dared to ride out and face the Vargans. There was no choice but to send the princess.
Helpless, the Duchess came to me with a box of almond cakes, begging me to go in Isadora’s place.
I asked the Duchess if there would be good food if I got married.
She hesitated for a moment, then said there would be not only good food, but beautiful clothes and jewels.
What a bargain!
My spirits soared. I wiped the crumbs from my mouth, puffed out my chest, and declared with bravado, “Your Grace need not worry. It’s just a marriage, isn’t it? If my sister doesn’t want to go, I’ll go for her.”
But if my father made me marry Lucian, I would be breaking my promise!
I waved my hands frantically. “No, no, that’s not it! Sixteen doesn’t want to marry the Tutor. Sixteen wants to marry the Chieftain of the Vargans, Kaelen… Kaelen…”
Oh, dear. What did the Duchess say his full name was?
The old chamberlain whispered, “Kaelen Vargan.”
I shot him a grateful look and shouted, “Sixteen wants to marry Kaelen Vargan!”
My voice must have been too loud, because it seemed to stun everyone in the hall. They all stared at me in disbelief.
“Absolutely not!”
Lucian suddenly stepped forward, his robes sweeping the floor as he knelt in a deep bow. When he looked up, his face was ashen.
“The princess is young and naive, she does not yet comprehend the meaning of marriage! Your Majesty, I implore you to reconsider!”
The King toyed with a jade ring on his thumb, his eyes fixed on Lucian. He smiled. “Lord Lucian, our Little Sixteen may be a child, but she is a clever one. I am fond of this child, and so I shall grant her wish.”
With a grand wave of his hand, he issued the decree. “Let it be proclaimed: Princess Sixteen has shown great virtue and nobility. In response to the envoy from the Vargan Dominion, who comes seeking a bride for their Chieftain, she is hereby granted the title of Sun-Blessed and shall be afforded the honors of a Royal Duke. She will be wed to the Vargan Chieftain to seal the peace between our two nations.”
Not only that, but my father also decreed that Lucian would marry my third sister, Princess Isadora, the very next month.
Lucian’s face was deathly pale, but in front of everyone, he had no choice but to give thanks and accept the royal command.
All I could think about was my new palace chambers. I couldn’t wait to see them.
4.
This political marriage was the best thing ever!
After leaving the King’s Solar, I hugged the royal decree to my chest, giggling foolishly as I walked.
A little way down the path, I saw Lucian standing there, his face a cold mask, his eyes dark pools of ink.
A knot of fear tightened in my stomach. I turned to run, but he caught me in an instant.
“Do you have any idea what this means? No one even remembered you existed, why did you have to leap forward and volunteer? Do you think this is a child’s game!?”
He gripped my wrist, dragging me back toward the King’s Solar like a petulant child. “Come with me to see the King. Tell him you don’t want to go.”
“No!”
I wrenched my hand from his grasp. “I want to go! I don’t want to stay here! I hate you! I hate this place!”
“You’re about to marry my sister, what are you doing meddling with me!”
Tears streamed down my face. I sobbed, “No one here cares about Sixteen! Sixteen is leaving, far, far away, and never coming back!”
Lucian froze, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.
Taking advantage of his stupor, I tore my hand away and ran for my life.
The moment I saw my new chambers, I forgot everything else.
The room was warm, with no drafts, no rats, and no snakes. And on the table, there was a plate of peach blossom pastries!
Sinking into the soft bed, I sighed in contentment once more.
“Getting married is the best!”
5.
My wedding day was set for before my sister’s, but the preparations were happening at the same time.
I heard Isadora had thrown terrible tantrums. My father had her confined to her rooms, to be released only on her wedding day.
Lucian never returned to the palace. He even stopped attending the morning council sessions.
I paid no mind to the outside world, content to lounge in my new chambers all day. I woke up to eat all sorts of delicacies, eating until I had gained a noticeable amount of weight.
On the day of my departure, I was woken at dawn to be washed and dressed. A red wedding gown was draped over me, a veil covered my face, and I was pushed into a carriage adorned with red silk ribbons.
“Aren’t Father and Mother coming?”
Weren’t you supposed to bid farewell to your parents when you got married? Were they still asleep?
I lifted the curtain and peered out. A light, misty rain was falling in the pre-dawn gloom. The courtyard was empty. There wasn’t a soul in sight.
“The Duchess said she would come see me off, too. Why isn’t she here?”
The old matron escorting me yanked the curtain shut. “Time is short, we’re already late,” she said with a forced smile. “His Majesty is a busy man, so he ordered us to depart first.”
Of course. Weddings had auspicious times. We couldn’t be late!
“Father is busy. The Duchess is busy, too. Sixteen understands.”
I sat up straight, lowered my veil, and when I spoke again, my voice was thick with emotion. “It’s alright. Sixteen will be good. Matron, let’s go.”
I had wanted to ask my father if he could give me a proper name. Being called Sixteen forever wasn’t a solution.
Hiding under my red veil, my cheeks burned, and so did my eyes.
“Sixteen will be good. Sixteen won’t miss home, and I won’t miss my mother.”
I used a corner of the veil to dry my tears, then forced a smile.
Mother, Sixteen is getting married. And to the mightiest Vargan Chieftain. They say he’s very rich. When Sixteen becomes his Queen, I’ll burn paper money for you every day, so you can feast and live in luxury in the underworld. Even the God of Death will have to give you massages!
6.
The spring rain fell like silk, drawing a stark, bloody curtain across the stone courtyard in front of the Lucian family’s ancestral hall.
Lucian knelt, his head bowed, his inner shirt already soaked through with blood. A single crimson raindrop clung to his dark, raven-wing lashes.
It looked like a tear of blood.
The thorny whip sliced through the air, cleaving the rain with a whistling shriek before landing hard on Lucian’s slender back. His face was pale, but he remained as still as a pine tree, kneeling in silence.
His youngest sister couldn’t bear to watch any longer. She threw herself at her father’s feet, crying and begging. “Father! Please, no more! My brother knows his mistake! He knows!”
Lord Lucian gripped the whip, veins bulging on his arm. He stared at his most brilliant son and roared, “Even now, you still intend to refuse the Third Princess and run off to join the army!?”
Lucian slowly raised his head. Though he was weak, his voice was steady and strong. “Yes. I will join the army. I will go to the borderlands and see for myself how these Vargans, who once groveled at our kingdom’s feet, have become so fearsome that they’ve left our entire court of nobles paralyzed, forcing us to sacrifice an innocent, helpless girl for a mockery of peace!”
“You insolent whelp, hold your tongue!”
Enraged, his father kicked him squarely in the chest.
Lucian fell backward, his body hitting the stone ground with a heavy thud.
The world blurred. He thought he saw the little girl again, smiling at him, holding a pastry as if it were a priceless treasure and saying thank you.
She knew nothing. A single cake was enough to win her over.
Such a pure, innocent girl. She had never enjoyed a single privilege of her title, never even had a name. Why, when it came to the final hour, did she, who had fought so hard just to live, have to be the one sent to her death?
In the pouring rain, Lucian closed his eyes, a sob catching in his throat.
…
🌟 Continue the story here
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The night before my wedding to the Crown Prince, my father brought home the daughter he’d had with his mistress.
“Your sister is a celestial beauty, far more striking than you. With her by your side in the Prince’s household, she will surely help you secure his favor.”
I found it almost laughable.
I was, after all, her mother’s killer. How could she possibly help me?
And just as I expected, on my wedding day, she stood beside me in a breathtakingly simple white gown, stealing the gaze of every person present.
Except for my husband, the Crown Prince.
1
The mistress my father cherished more than his own eyes was my mother’s half-sister, Liana.
Every day, she would come to our estate to play the part of a devoted sister to my mother, all while secretly carrying on an affair with my father.
When my mother was eight months pregnant with her second child, the royal physician declared it would be a boy.
On the day of my mother’s labor, Liana chose that exact moment to confess, weeping, that not only had she become my father’s mistress, but she had borne him a daughter eight years prior.
Eight years ago. The second year of my parents’ marriage.
The facade of a loving marriage shattered into a lie. The bond of sisterhood became a cruel joke.
My mother, consumed by grief and rage, gave up and died, leaving me with a wailing infant brother.
I was eight years old. I grew up overnight.
I trailed behind the head nurse, learning how to manage my mother’s funeral arrangements, never leaving my infant brother’s side, soothing and caring for him.
My father was at his private villa, celebrating the Mid-Autumn Festival in blissful harmony with Liana and her daughter.
On the seventh day after my mother’s death.
I dragged my frail, sick body to the villa my father had provided for Liana.
As always, she greeted me with a look of maternal affection. “My dearest Viola, in a few days, your father will bring me home as the new lady of the house. You’ll have to start calling me Mother then.”
The feigned warmth couldn’t hide the triumph in her eyes. She stroked my face and called for her daughter, Beatrix, and her son, Alistair.
“Come, come and meet your elder sister.”
Beatrix and Alistair called me “sister,” their expressions a mixture of curiosity and unease.
Liana teased me. “It’s the first time you’re meeting your brother and sister, so of course you didn’t bring a gift. When you’re back at the manor, you must remember to make up for it. Even though you no longer have a mother to teach you, you must still learn to be proper.”
I smiled, my fingers caressing the cold steel of the blade hidden in my sleeve. “Aunt,” I said, “come closer. I have a white jade hairpin for you.”
She bent down without suspicion, her eyes crinkling with self-satisfied amusement.
A second later, the smile vanished.
Her eyes froze as she clutched the gushing wound in her neck. Her mouth opened in disbelief, but no words came out. She convulsed on the ground, kicking up dust, her bloodshot eyes staring at me in horror.
Beatrix and Alistair shrieked.
I calmly wiped the blood from the blade and smiled.
“A welcome gift from your sister. Do enjoy it.”
2
Beatrix was sobbing hysterically, but with the knife in my hand, she didn’t dare attack me.
“Father… Father won’t let you get away with this! He’ll make you pay for my mother’s life!”
He won’t.
If word got out that I had murdered my own stepmother, his career would be over. For his own sake, he would find a way to clean up this mess.
Beatrix didn’t understand what a pragmatic, self-serving man her father was.
But I did.
3
My father suppressed what happened at the villa, giving Liana a hasty burial.
He came at me with a blade. “You are so young, yet so vicious! Go to hell!”
My infant brother was crying incessantly. Just as I had instructed, my nurse brought my grandmother, and only then was my life spared.
But I couldn’t escape a fate worse than death.
He put something in my food. Within a month, I was meant to go mad.
He hated me for killing the love of his life.
And I hated him for destroying mine.
That was my mother. The mother who carried me for ten months and risked her life to give birth to me. The mother who, for eight years, loved, cherished, and doted on me.
I hated my father, and he hated me. We were no longer father and daughter, but enemies.
In the dead of winter, I threw myself into the frozen lake. I survived by a hair’s breadth, carving out a sliver of hope for myself.
My aunt, my mother’s sister-in-law, finally had a pretext. She arrived with her household guards and took me and my frail younger brother away.
Before I left, I told my father, “If you dare bring Beatrix and Alistair into this house to raise them, I will go to the magistrate and beat the drum of injustice. I will tell the world how you carried on with your wife’s own sister and drove her to her death. Then I will confess to the murder of my aunt. My death is a small matter, but the entire Valerius name will be ruined because of me. The careers of the men, the marriages of the women—all of it will be finished. Father, as long as I am alive, you will never bring them through the gates of this house.”
My father was overcome with rage. He slapped me across the face and squeezed my neck, his fingers digging into my flesh. “How did I raise such a disobedient, unfilial creature! How dare you!”
I smiled at him, not struggling. Slowly, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he released his grip.
He muttered under his breath, his eyes filled with a deep-seated fear. “You’re a lunatic. A complete lunatic!”
I smiled sweetly. “I am not a lunatic, but you are a coward. Father, I dare to risk my life openly for my mother. But you don’t dare to openly avenge the woman you supposedly loved. You are less than me.”
4
With my aunt present, all the dowry my mother had brought with her was carefully inventoried and taken with me.
My grandmother was displeased but could say nothing. She didn’t want my brother to leave.
That night, my brother broke out in a red rash and a high fever.
My aunt created a huge scene, causing my grandmother to faint from rage. My father, rubbing his temples in exhaustion, waved his hand dismissively. “Take him. Take them all! He’s not the only son I have! Get out! All of you, just get out!”
My aunt prepared the chambers my mother had used in her family home before she was married. I settled there with my brother and my nurse.
In return for my aunt’s kindness, I took my cousin’s place as the companion to Princess Seraphina.
Princess Seraphina was known for being arrogant and difficult. The companions who had gone before me had all returned in tears, tormented beyond recognition. Now it was my maternal family’s turn, and my aunt couldn’t bear to see her own daughter suffer. And I had no desire to stay with the Valerius family.
Our goals aligned perfectly.
On my first day at the palace, I was forced to kneel. The reason? My hairstyle was unbecoming.
I smiled and accepted the punishment.
The second day, I was hung from a tree.
Again, I smiled and accepted the punishment.
Until I fainted and was rescued by the Crown Prince.
When I awoke, the Prince was scolding Seraphina. I pushed through the pain and weakness, kneeling to bow my head. “It was I who broke the cup and offended Her Highness. That is why she punished me.”
The Prince’s lecture faltered. Seraphina bit her lip and looked at me.
He took a deep breath and rapped Seraphina on the head. “She is not your servant. She is your companion, the daughter of a nobleman. Her mother was the daughter of the Marquis of Fairview, and her father is a Master of the Royal Household. You cannot be so unreasonable.”
Seraphina snorted. “The daughter of a minor official. So what? What does it matter if I have her beaten to death?”
“Seraphina!” The Prince’s voice was low, strained with something like pity. “Her mother just passed away. Be kinder to her. She, like you, has lost her mother. You should understand her sorrow.”
At that, Seraphina fell silent, her gaze toward me softening slightly.
The Prince helped me up and smiled. “There, now. Rest. You are weak. I’ve had the royal physician prepare a tonic for you. Seraphina is just a bit spoiled, she means no harm. Don’t hold it against her.”
“Her Highness is very kind to me.”
From that day on, perhaps because Seraphina saw that I, too, was motherless, she treated me much better. She no longer punished me on a whim.
I followed her to her lessons every day. The King doted on Seraphina, granting her the special privilege of studying alongside the princes. I attended her, learning the arts of governance, the ways of rulers, and the philosophies of a hundred schools of thought. Seraphina had no interest in these things; I wrote all her essays and arguments for her. She loved the spotlight and the empty praise. My writing earned her the commendation of her tutors. When it came to my own assignments, I deliberately held back, appearing mediocre.
My loyalty to her was not blind obedience. I catered to her whims, but on matters of great importance, I would fight her to the death. She would be furious at the time, screaming and hitting me, but after suffering the consequences and losing face, she would remember my advice and appreciate me for it. Over time, she grew dependent on me.
At the new Queen’s birthday feast, Seraphina got into a conflict with the new Queen’s daughter, the Seventh Princess, and was pushed into a pond in the royal gardens.
The Seventh Princess was imperious. “No one is to save her! You think your mother is still the Queen? Your mother is dead! My mother is the Queen now! How dare you still be so arrogant! I’ll have anyone who tries to save her beaten to death!”
The eunuchs and maids present were too terrified to move, only daring to sneak off to find the Prince and the King. By the time they returned with help, Seraphina would have been nothing but a corpse.
Watching Seraphina flailing desperately in the water, I knew my chance had come.
I jumped in. The rescue did not go smoothly. She couldn’t swim, and as I tried to save her, she latched onto me, pushing me under in her panic to climb up. I swallowed several mouthfuls of water and nearly drowned myself.
When the King and the Prince arrived, they saw me, a complete mess, dragging an unconscious Seraphina onto the bank.
The Prince’s face was pale. He was usually so gentle and warm, but this was the first time I had seen his eyes so cold and sharp. The Seventh Princess took a fearful step back, but then, remembering her mother was now Queen, she straightened her spine.
The Prince took Seraphina into his arms and reached a hand out to me, but I collapsed back into the water, deliberately hitting my arm against a sharp rock and breaking it.
He dove in without a moment’s hesitation and pulled me out.
The King interrogated the servants. A young eunuch trembled as he recounted, “It’s not that we didn’t want to save her, Your Majesty, but the Seventh Princess forbade it. We did not dare to disobey.”
The Prince’s face was like ice. He walked straight to the Seventh Princess and slapped her hard across the face. His voice was frigid. “Father, my mother is gone. If Miss Valerius had not defied her threats and jumped in to save Seraphina, Seraphina would be with my mother now.”
The King’s eyes filled with guilt. He sentenced the Seventh Princess to a year of confinement.
After the royal physician had set my arm, the Prince dismissed the maids attending me and brought me a bowl of medicine himself. He blew on it gently. “Miss Valerius, thank you for what you did today. You saved Seraphina. The King will reward the House of Valerius.”
I said, “If there is to be a reward, could it be for my younger brother?”
He stared at me, stunned. I continued, my voice laced with bitterness, “Your Highness, I must confess… my father has other children with a mistress. After my mother’s death, my younger brother and I have been under the care of my aunt at the Fairview estate. My brother is still so young, and though my aunt cares for him, I worry for him day and night.”
As I spoke, tears fell like pearls from my eyes. “My brother and I are all each other has in this world. I cannot rest easy. If I am truly to be rewarded, I hope His Majesty can bestow some honor upon my brother, so that my aunt and uncle will value him more.”
The Prince’s expression was complex. He set down the medicine and handed me a handkerchief, his own eyes red-rimmed. He was only fourteen himself. The year the former Queen died, he was only eight. He had to navigate this treacherous court with a clueless Seraphina in tow, fending off the schemes of the King’s favored concubines, caring for his sister, and shouldering the heavy burden of being the Crown Prince, never daring to slacken in his studies for a moment. He lived in constant fear that a single misstep would cost him the throne.
“Miss Valerius… Viola. May I call you by your name?”
My eyelashes trembled. I looked at him with red-rimmed, bewildered eyes.
He picked up the medicine and offered it to me with a smile. “Viola, don’t cry. From now on, you will help me look after Seraphina, and I will look after your brother outside the palace for you. How does that sound?”
My eyes lit up. “Really?” I asked, a hopeful surprise in my voice.
He smiled warmly. “Of course.”
I smiled back.
It’s working. He had remembered my name.
Viola.
5
The Prince visited me every day. When Seraphina recovered, she came to see me with a bowl of chicken soup, her demeanor incredibly awkward.
“Look at you, so thin. Anyone would think I was mistreating you!” she grumbled, setting down the soup.
I saw the fresh burns on her fingers and the back of her hand and blinked. She was terrified of pain.
She asked, her tone brusque, “I was so awful to you, why did you still save me? Weren’t you afraid of dying?”
I forced down a spoonful of soup. “Her Highness has been very good to me.”
She turned her face away, her expression stubborn and proud. “Hypocrite.”
But for the next two weeks, she didn’t miss a single day of bringing me soup. The taste improved from watery and bland to rich and delicious. Her attitude toward me shifted from disdain and contempt to one of genuine regard. She started to open up to me.
Once my arm healed, I resumed my lessons with her. She no longer brought other maids with her, and she stopped making me carry everything. In fact, she even started carrying things for me.
The Prince contacted me daily to ask about Seraphina. After discussing his sister, he would always ask about me, a word or two of concern. He occasionally brought me news of my brother, along with small gifts from outside the palace.
The brilliant political essays that earned Seraphina so much praise from her tutors… others might not know, but he knew they were my work. He often discussed history and classics with me.
And I, in turn, burned the midnight oil, studying relentlessly, not daring to be complacent for a moment, terrified that the opportunity I had fought so hard for would vanish. My mother was dead. My father was someone else’s father. My brother was young, and I was his only family in this world.
I had to be strong.
Spring turned to autumn, and six years passed.
I came of age.
For my coming-of-age ceremony, Seraphina found me a magnificent gown that shimmered like captured starlight.
The Prince handed me a gift box. “Open it.”
Inside was a simple wooden hairpin.
Seraphina scoffed. “Brother, you’re the Crown Prince of the entire kingdom. Can’t you do better than that?”
But I was delighted. “I love it.”
Of course I do. He carved it himself. How could it be the same?
That night, I gave him a sachet I had embroidered and confessed my feelings.
He was taken aback, his ears turning red. He gently rejected me. “I only see you as a sister.”
I lowered my eyes and nodded. “I see. Alright then.”
I turned and left.
The next day when we met, he avoided me. I acted perfectly normal, showing no awkwardness, and treated him just as I always had.
His stiff expression annoyed Seraphina. “Brother, what’s with the long face? You think you’re our grim-faced old tutor?”
I chimed in with a smile. “Yes, Brother, is something troubling you?”
He paused, a frown creasing his brow. Seraphina looked up. “Why are you calling him Brother all of a sudden?”
I answered innocently, “He said he sees me as a sister.”
Seraphina burst out laughing. “Fine by me. I’m happy to have you as a sister.”
My eyes curved into crescents. Only the Prince, Nicholas, kept his lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze on me dark and unreadable.
I stopped embroidering personal items like shirts for him. He had a recurring throat ailment and was a picky eater. Every year, I would pick and dry chrysanthemums for his tea, carefully selecting the best ones to send to him. I had studied under the royal physician, learning many medicinal recipes, and spent my days trying to cook him delicious, healthy meals.
For six years, I had woven myself into the fabric of his life. From grand political theories to the smallest stitch, in his life and his studies, I was everywhere, meticulously attentive.
And now, I cut it all off.
For two weeks, I was polite to him in public, and distant in private.
He finally couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried to speak to me with the same warmth and familiarity as before.
I smiled and interrupted him. “Brother, it’s late. Perhaps another day. I’ve already told my family that Your Highness sees me as a sister. Please don’t be angry with me. I am alone and have no one to rely on. I was hoping to borrow your name for a bit of protection. Tomorrow, I will be returning home to prepare for my marriage.”
The smile froze on his face. His jaw tightened, his fingers unconsciously rubbing together, then clenching into a fist, veins standing out.
“Who are you marrying?” he asked, the words forced out, each one landing with a heavy, difficult weight.
I beamed. “I don’t know yet. The exam results will be out soon, won’t they? My uncle plans to let me choose from the top candidates. I think that young man from Silverwood, Julian, seems very promising. My uncle says that although Julian’s family is poor, his writing has great integrity and style. I was reluctant at first, but then I read his essays.”
The more I spoke, the more animated I became, gesturing excitedly, my face practically splitting with a joyous smile.
Nicholas’s eyes darkened, the warmth draining from him, replaced by an icy frost. His fingers trembled slightly.
I babbled on. “Brother, you have no idea how beautiful Julian’s calligraphy is, and his essays are so well-written! Reading them felt like meeting a soulmate in a foreign land. I wish I could meet him immediately.”
Nicholas’s smile was glacial. “Scholars are often fickle. Viola, you have spent your life in the palace and met few men. Do not be deceived by mere words.”
I nodded obediently. “You’re right. It must be because I haven’t met enough men. Seeing you every day, I mistakenly thought I was in love with you.”
I feigned a look of deep, conflicted thought, my cheeks flushing as I whispered shyly, “My aunt sent me a portrait of Julian. He’s so handsome, with a face like polished jade and an air of scholarly grace. I like him so much. I can’t wait to meet him.”
The last traces of a smile vanished from Nicholas’s lips. His eyes were cold and dark, his expression unreadable.
I glanced at the darkening sky and let out a small “Oh!”
“Thank you for your kindness to me and my brother all these years. Thanks to you, my brother is now studying at the Royal Academy. I am eternally grateful.”
I turned and waved cheerfully. “You should go back now. I need to pack. I have to go to bed early so I can wake up and get ready tomorrow. It wouldn’t do to meet Julian with dark circles under my eyes!”
He suddenly grabbed my hand, his grip like iron, his eyes blazing.
I looked at him, confused. “Brother—”
He cut me off, his voice sharp with anger. “Don’t call me that.”
I made myself look small and timid. “Your Highness,” I whispered.
He stared into my eyes, his dark lashes trembling. From a distance, the sound of eunuchs and maids greeting the Queen drifted toward us.
He seemed to snap out of a trance and released my hand.
I turned and my eyes met Seraphina’s cold, hard stare.
She’s finally here. The jewelry I sent wasn’t wasted.
Back in her chambers, Seraphina sat on the main seat and ordered me to kneel.
As I knelt, a teacup flew from her hand, grazing my forehead. My hairpin came loose, my hair tumbling down. A flicker of pity crossed her eyes, but her voice was sharp with accusation, her own eyes red. “You got close to me just to become the Crown Princess, didn’t you?!”
I lowered my eyes. “I am leaving tomorrow. My family has already arranged another match for me.”
I wiped the blood from my forehead. “Seraphina, I owe you nothing. Whether my feelings were real or false, I gave you my heart.”
Tears streamed down her face. “Get out!” she screamed.
I slowly stood up and retrieved the bag I had already packed. I gave the protective amulet I had embroidered for Seraphina to a maid I was friendly with. Before she could speak, I turned and walked out, my eyes red, my silence heavy.
In the drawer of the room lay the birthday gift I had prepared for Seraphina. The late Queen had embroidered a cloak for her. After the Queen’s death, the Seventh Princess had deliberately ruined it. Countless nights, I had seen Seraphina clutching that cloak, sobbing for her mother.
There were hundreds of skilled embroiderers in the palace, but not one dared to repair it. It wasn’t a lack of skill; they knew her temper and were afraid to take the job. They all claimed their skills were insufficient, terrified that if their work wasn’t perfect, they would be beaten and thrown out of the palace.
I had already repaired half of the cloak, intending to give it to her for her birthday.
Seraphina seemed cruel, but she was all bark and no bite.
She would feel pity for me.
For years, I had meticulously crafted my role, playing the part she needed, unconditionally fulfilling her emotional needs. A sheltered little princess, how could she ever escape the tender trap a hunter had so carefully prepared for her?
🌟 Continue the story here
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Sean and I were almost breaking up. Again.
The day I planned to apologize, I drew a dare at a party: steal food from the top student’s plate.
Everyone expected Sean to stop me.
Sean, always ranked second, just scoffed. “Go ahead. Why not seduce him while you’re at it? Tank his grades. I don’t care.”
Comments flashed before my eyes—phantom spectators of my life:
【Classic prideful jerk. One kind word from Ava and he’d crumble.】
【He’s been obsessively scrolling your chats since the fight, yet pushes you away.】
【Just dump him. The top student’s had a crush on you forever.】
I glanced at indifferent Sean, then picked up my fork. “Fine,” I said, voice steady. “I’ll try.”
Then, softer: “Besides… I’ve wanted to meet him anyway.”
1
Sean and I were on the verge of breaking up. Again.
It started with a game of Truth or Dare. Sean drew a dare: kiss your girlfriend in front of everyone.
Sean was my childhood best friend and, as of this summer, my boyfriend. He had a touch of separation anxiety; growing up, we’d never been apart for more than five days. We’d made things official over the summer break, and I thought we were solid.
Our friends erupted into a chorus of cheers. “Kiss her! Kiss her!”
My heart hammered against my ribs. I clutched the hem of my shirt, hoping this was my chance to make up with him after our latest fight.
But his face went cold. “I’m not kissing her. It’s embarrassing.”
His gaze drifted over me, light and dismissive. “Her grades on the last test were a disaster. I don’t want people knowing I have a girlfriend who’s that dumb.”
Olivia, sitting next to him, let out a little snort of laughter. “Ava can be a bit slow, can’t she? You should really help tutor your own girlfriend, Sean.” She nudged him playfully. “You helped me catch up when I transferred here, remember?”
Sean leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at her. “It’s not the same. She is what she is—all beauty, no brains. You’re different. Tutoring her would be a waste of time.”
I froze, the words hitting me like a physical slap. A hot wave of shame washed over my face, burning all the way to my ears. The truth was, I consistently aced English and History, topping the school rankings, and my other subjects weren’t that bad. I’d only fallen behind because I was out sick for half a semester.
Olivia wrapped her arm around his shoulders, her hair brushing against his neck in a way that was far too familiar. “You know, it’s like one of those steamy stories online. The hot couple studying together, and when she gets a question wrong, you pull her over your knee and… teach her a lesson.”
Sean chuckled. “What are you talking about? She’s not a kid anymore.”
Olivia tilted her head, her expression a mask of innocence. “Then how come you only tease me like that? You threatened to do the same thing to me when I messed up on that problem set.”
I sat there, feeling small and utterly out of place.
Come to think of it, Olivia was the reason Sean and I were fighting in the first place.
Last week was my birthday. Sean had promised to celebrate with me, but he never showed up. In the middle of my party, I video-called him. Olivia was the one who answered.
“What do you want?” she’d asked, a bored look on her face.
I was stunned. “Is his phone… with you?”
“Yeah, so?” she shot back, annoyed.
A knot formed in my stomach. Sean was fiercely territorial about his things. I was the only person he ever let touch his phone.
A moment later, Sean took the phone from her, his voice softening. “Ava? What’s up?”
Before I could speak, Olivia cut in, her voice loud enough for me to hear clearly. “It’s all your fault, Sean. I told you not to worry about it, but you insisted on celebrating with me. Now you’d better explain yourself to your little girlfriend.”
Sean’s attention immediately snapped back to her, his voice full of an unconcealed joy that twisted my gut. “Ava, you won’t believe it! Olivia made huge progress this time. She was only one point behind me in physics! We’re celebrating.”
Olivia playfully punched his shoulder, pouting. “Hmph. That was just a fluke. I’ll beat you next time for sure.”
Her cute act made Sean laugh out loud. “Alright, we’ll see. But if you do, I’m not tutoring you anymore.”
“Jerk! Who asked you to tutor me anyway? I don’t need your help to win!”
“Okay, okay. We’ll see about that.”
They bantered back and forth, completely lost in their own world, as if I wasn’t even on the call. It was a long moment before Sean seemed to remember I was there.
“Oh, right. Ava, what did you call for?”
I bit my lip. “Sean, actually, today is my birth—”
But again, Olivia interrupted. “Sean, oh my god, I can’t open this soda bottle…”
Naturally, Sean’s hand reached out. “You’re so helpless,” he said, his voice laced with affection.
Watching them, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me. It all felt so pointless. I didn’t bother asking him to come to my birthday party. I just hung up.
Sean didn’t find out it was my birthday until the next day. When he came to find me, I thought he’d at least be a little sorry.
Instead, he just gave me a cold look and said, “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday was your birthday? Olivia’s been upset all day. She was crying, saying she thinks you’re targeting her.” He glared at me. “Is it just because her grades are better than yours? Are you really that jealous? You can’t even tell me it’s your birthday? If you keep throwing these tantrums, we’re done.”
This was the first time we’d gone more than five days without making up.
2
As a penalty for losing the dare, Sean treated everyone to a weekend night out at a club his family owned.
Someone joked with him, “Dude, you’d rather lose the game than kiss Ava. Aren’t you afraid she’ll dump you?”
He just laughed, a look of absolute confidence on his face. “Why would I be? She’s obsessed with me. She’s not going to break up with me over a stupid game.”
Everyone laughed along. “True. Your girl knows how to handle things. She’s not gonna sweat the small stuff.”
I lowered my head, fighting back the urge to cry, my face a carefully constructed mask of indifference. Don’t cry, I told myself. Not here. Not in front of everyone.
The game continued.
This time, it was my turn to draw a dare. I unfolded the slip of paper. It read: [Go and eat a piece of food from the top-ranked student’s plate.]
I stared at the words, stunned.
Adrian was the new transfer student. He’d shown up and immediately snatched the number-one rank from Sean, his picture plastered on the school’s honor roll display. Someone had even snapped a photo of it and posted it online. Thanks to his criminally handsome face, it had over a million likes.
A few troublemakers immediately started hooting. “Ooh, this is a good one! Go on, Ava!”
“That’s Adrian we’re talking about! The cold, untouchable genius who transferred into our class. He’s the reason Sean got knocked down to second place for the first time ever.”
“He’s seriously cold, though. A bunch of girls confessed to him already, and they all came back crying.”
Olivia covered her mouth, a sly grin on her face. “I hear Adrian’s single. With Ava’s figure, if she wore something a little more revealing tonight and wrapped herself around him, he probably wouldn’t be able to hold his books straight.”
A couple of people shot her a warning look. “Hey, don’t talk like that. Ava’s Sean’s girlfriend.”
“Yeah, everyone knows she’s head-over-heels for Sean. She’s been following him around like a puppy since they were kids.”
Olivia feigned surprise, sticking her tongue out playfully at Sean. “Oops, my bad! I totally forgot she was your girlfriend.”
I dug my nails into my palms, the sharp points nearly breaking the skin. I waited for Sean to say something, anything. I couldn’t believe he’d just let her talk about me like that, making crude jokes at my expense.
Sean just looked at Olivia, a smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s fine. I don’t have a problem with it.” He shrugged. “Sounds good to me. While you’re at it, why don’t you go up to him with nothing on under your dress? Seduce him, tank his grades. I don’t mind.” His voice dripped with arrogance. “Ava’s crazy about me, right? It’s perfect. Her body might be with the top student, but her heart will still be with me. Works for me.”
He let out a short, harsh laugh. “Besides, she’s so wrapped around my finger. I haven’t even had a taste, why would I let someone else get a free sample?”
Olivia was the first to burst out laughing.
In that moment, my heart seemed to skip a beat, then stop altogether. I couldn’t believe the boy I’d loved my whole life could be so utterly disrespectful. A tremor ran through my body, an uncontrollable shudder of hurt and anger.
The phantom comments appeared again.
【There he goes again. Can he just drop the tough-guy act? He’s saying all this horrible stuff just to push our girl into apologizing and making up with him!】
【He spends all his time scrolling through their old chats. He thinks we don’t know? His thumb must be raw by now.】
【But damn, that number one is a total masterpiece. Even more of a heartthrob than Sean. I kinda want Ava to have a little taste of something new.】
【Sean has no idea. The new guy didn’t just steal his top rank; he’s been coveting his girlfriend for a long, long time.】
【Wait, isn’t the top student supposed to be the villain of this story? And isn’t he the sole heir to the Sterling Corporation or something?】
【Seriously, Ava, stop wasting your time on Sean. Give Adrian a chance! His study is filled with your photos. He probably keeps the pens you’ve touched in a freaking safe.】
【If you so much as brush a finger against him, he’d probably tremble with excitement!】
I stared at the floating text, my eyes wide. Adrian… was like that?
Seeing my hesitation, Olivia tugged on Sean’s sleeve, pouting. “Look at Ava, she’s gone all quiet. Girlfriends are so much trouble. Can’t even take a little joke. And you,” she said, turning on Sean, “you should at least try to comfort her. Girls like her are so sensitive. What if she starts crying?”
Sean’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “What’s there to comfort? It’s just a game. Acting like it’s the end of the world. Such a buzzkill.”
Olivia giggled, inching closer to him. “Oh, so you can take a joke? What if the dare was for you to kiss me? Would you do it?”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “Of course. It’s just a game.”
Olivia laughed and shoved him playfully. “Ugh, shut up. I wouldn’t want to kiss you anyway.”
Watching them flirt, completely oblivious to my presence, I felt a wave of bitterness so strong it threatened to drown me. Maybe the comments were right. Maybe all I had to do was soothe his ego, and he’d instantly soften and we’d be fine. That’s how it always was. Sean would push my boundaries, and I would be the one to retreat.
But I knew if I backed down one more time… I’d be nothing more than a spineless doormat.
Under the weight of everyone’s stares, I suddenly stood up, my bowl and fork in hand.
“Fine,” I announced, my voice clear and steady. “I’ll give it a shot. He’s smart. I’ve been wanting to get to know him anyway.”
The smile vanished from Sean’s face, replaced by a dark, thunderous expression.
The comment-feed went wild.
【LMAO, Sean finally overplayed his hand. She’s actually going to do it!】
【Did you guys see Adrian’s face when he found out Ava was dating Sean? He looked like he wanted to commit murder. And speaking of commitment, his commitment to her is…】
【He hasn’t taken his eyes off her this whole time. And speaking of time, he could probably go for…】
【He’s been dying to have her. Watching Sean and Ava together has been torture for him. He must be starving. And speaking of starving…】
The comments grew more and more outrageous. I walked over to the other table, half-believing, half-skeptical.
“Hi, sorry to bother you,” I began, my voice trembling slightly. “Can I… try some of your food?”
Adrian looked up, and for a split second, his dark eyes seemed to glitter. I was taken aback. I’d never noticed before, but he was breathtakingly handsome.
His friend started to run interference. “Adrian, another fan. Try not to be too harsh this time, you might make this one cry too. Hey,” he said to me, “you probably don’t know, but he’s a total germaphobe. He really doesn’t like people touching his…”
“It’s fine,” Adrian cut in suddenly, his voice smooth and deep. He shot his friend a look. “I’m not a monster. This young lady is so thin. What’s wrong with her having a little of my food?”
Before I could say anything, he pulled out the chair next to him. “Don’t listen to him. Sit. What else do you like? I saw you staring at the sweet and sour pork earlier. We can order some more.”
So much for the cold, unapproachable genius. I’d been worried it would be awkward, but he was making it easy.
Adrian pushed a plate of peeled shrimp in front of me and effortlessly kept the conversation going. “You’re amazing at English, right? I heard you got the highest score in the city on the mock exam.”
I nodded, still a little dazed.
He looked up, a warm smile gracing his lips. “That’s great, because my essays always lose points. I was wondering if you could help me with them. In exchange, I can help you with your other subjects. As you know, I get perfect scores in everything but English and History. It wouldn’t be a bad deal for you.” He paused. “Here, let’s trade numbers. It’ll be easier to coordinate.”
The comment-feed was losing its mind.
【Look at him! The villain is fanning his tail feathers like a proud peacock!】
【This is perfect. Sean was just trying to force Ava into apologizing, and instead, he sent her straight into the villain’s arms.】
【LMAO, Sean thought she was going to get publicly humiliated. Now he’s so mad he’s about to bite his fork in half.】
【Nooo, I don’t want angst! Ava, just go back and apologize. If you just give in a little, he’ll totally make up with you tonight!】
3
After dinner, I packed my bag and got ready to head back to the classroom for evening study hall.
Olivia suddenly appeared behind me and slapped my back with a grin. “Ava, can you do me a favor and tell the teacher Sean and I won’t be at study hall? He’s going to help me with my homework at his place.”
She casually tossed her backpack to Sean, who caught it without a second thought. This was at least the tenth time I’d covered for them.
In the past, seeing Sean carry Olivia’s bag or give her a ride home on his bike for a “study session” would have torn me up inside. But tonight, my mind was buzzing with Adrian’s offer to tutor me. I just mumbled, “Oh, okay.”
“Wait a minute.”
Sean’s voice, sharp and commanding, stopped me in my tracks. “You’re coming to my house tonight, too. I’ll help you with physics.”
Olivia’s smile instantly vanished.
I shook my head. “No, thanks.”
He frowned. “Why not? Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? For me to tutor you? What about that last problem on the physics test you said you couldn’t solve?”
I met his gaze directly. “Thank you,” I said, enunciating each word. “But it’s too late. I already figured it out on my own. Besides, Adrian said he’d help me tonight. I can’t flake on him.”
Sean’s expression darkened. “Ava, stop being difficult. You’ve always wanted me to tutor you. What is this, some new game you’re playing? Stop it. I don’t have time for these push-and-pull theatrics.”
He held out his hand to me. “Come here. Whether we get back together or not depends on your performance tonight.”
I took a step back. “I’m not playing a game. I really don’t want to go.”
His hand hung in the air. He let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Fine,” he said, his voice laced with smug confidence. “Then let’s break up.”
He’d said those words so many times before. Each time, they’d sent me into a week-long spiral. I’d be unable to focus in class, and I’d spend my nights crying while writing him long, rambling apologies.
Maybe if I just bowed my head, soothed his ego like I always did, he’d let this all go.
But suddenly, I just felt… tired. No one can keep retreating forever.
I took a deep breath and summoned all my strength. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s break up.”
The color drained from Sean’s face. He sneered. “Are you serious?”
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to nod.
The next second, he kicked a nearby chair with a vicious thud. The loud crash made me flinch.
“Fine,” he spat, his voice like ice. “I hope you don’t come crawling back to me like a stray dog, begging me to take you back.”
With that, he snatched his bag from the floor, turned on his heel, and stormed away.
“Wait,” I called out.
A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of his lips. He glanced back at me over his shoulder. “What? Regret it already? Too late.”
I pulled the matching couple’s ring he’d given me from my finger. “Since we’re broken up, I don’t want this anymore. You can have it back.”
It was the gift he’d given me the day he asked me to be his girlfriend. Our names were engraved inside. I used to adore it, never taking it off. But now, it was just a piece of metal.
Sean froze, his voice growing even colder. “Fine. If you don’t want it, just throw it away.”
I nodded and tossed the ring into a nearby trash can, where it landed among leftover scraps of food. Then, without a second glance, I picked up my bag and walked away.
For years, I had always been the one watching his back as he left. Maybe being the one to walk away wasn’t so hard after all.
Sean’s face was a mask of fury.
His friend tried to smooth things over. “Dude, she’s just trying to get a reaction out of you. You know how girls are, they love playing these little games.”
“Yeah, man, don’t let her get to you. If you give in now, you lose.”
“I bet you as soon as we leave, she’ll come running back, crying her eyes out and digging through the trash like a clown.”
Sean gave a nonchalant laugh. “You’re right. She won’t last a few days.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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I was the villain’s wife. The one who died young, his one true love.
Ten years after my death, a System resurrected me.
My mission: to redeem him, now that he had fallen into darkness.
But I had lost all my memories.
So when I saw the villain from a distance, before I could even get close, his men threw me out.
As I lay crumpled on the ground, a phantom comment feed flickered into existence before my eyes.
【Here we go again. I’ve lost count of how many have come to ‘save’ the villain.】
【For years, the System has been sending countless replacements to placate him, terrified he’ll destroy this world.】
【Some looked just like his dead wife, some had her exact personality, some even came armed with all her memories…】
【But every single one of them failed.】
【How long will this one, this completely unremarkable one, even last?】
1
When the System brought me into this world, the villain threatening its very stability was already thirty-four years old, with a ten-year-old son.
I, on the other hand, had just woken from a long slumber.
I knew nothing. I remembered nothing.
All I knew was that my name was Nora, and I was twenty-three years old.
The System had just told me that much.
Beyond that, it had given me a thousand warnings about the villain, about how dangerous he was. It begged me not to be like the candidates who came before me, who’d lost their lives the moment they arrived.
The System told me the villain’s name was Reik Thorne, a man who stood at the absolute pinnacle of wealth and power. He was cruel and ruthless, a ferocious, temperamental beast. The only shred of humanity he had left was reserved for his young son.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a long time.
“I don’t see anything special about myself,” I murmured. “Nothing that would make a man like that give me a second glance.”
The System watched me in silence.
After a long pause, it spoke, its tone heavy with meaning. “You’re the last chance. If even you can’t do it—”
It cut itself off, its voice firming with resolve. “No. You have to be the one.”
2
The System’s endless warnings were not an exaggeration.
The moment I arrived, I tried everything I could just to get a glimpse of Reik Thorne from a distance. But the hulking bodyguards trailing him spotted me instantly.
Reik was dressed head-to-toe in black, a heavy coat draped over his shoulders. He was standing outside the school gates, waiting for his son.
He never once glanced in my direction.
I stared at the sharp, cold lines of his profile, and a strange, uncontrollable emotion bloomed in my chest. It was a sorrow so profound it brought tears to my eyes.
I stood there, frozen by this inexplicable wave of grief, not even noticing his bodyguards closing in.
A sharp, searing pain shot through my body as I was thrown hard against a brick wall.
One of the guards, his face a mask of brutal indifference, tossed a threat at me before leaving. “Don’t look at things you’re not supposed to see.”
He gave my pathetic, crumpled form on the ground a final, cold sweep.
“Next time, it won’t be this simple.”
3
At that moment, the sky began to shed soft flakes of snow.
I clutched my injured arm, huddled against the wall.
From a distance, I saw Reik meet his son. Even seeing the boy didn’t bring a hint of a smile to his face. He just stubbed out his cigarette, looked down, and took his son’s hand.
They turned and got into a car.
Perhaps my gaze was too intense. Just before the boy climbed into the car, he turned his head and looked directly at me.
I was a mess of blood and melting snow. Utterly wretched.
Yet, on pure instinct, I managed a gentle smile for the strikingly beautiful boy.
His gaze was as indifferent as his father’s. He looked me over calmly, his expression unreadable.
It was just one glance.
A bodyguard was already holding the car door open. It swung shut, and the car drove away without a backward glance.
4
My heart felt as if it had suddenly stepped into thin air.
A deep, sinking feeling of weightlessness washed over me.
Before I could even begin to process the origin of these strange emotions, lines of white text began to scroll across my vision.
The text was dense, flashing past my eyes at a rapid pace—
【And here’s another new candidate.】
【Over the past decade, I can’t even count if this is the twentieth or the two-hundredth.】
【The System is seriously terrified of this guy. Terrified he’ll just decide to burn the whole world down one day.】
【So it keeps trying to shove people into his life.】
【But he only ever loved his dead wife.】
【For years, the System has sent countless ‘replacement’ candidates.】
【Some looked just like her, some had her exact personality, some even came fully prepared with all her memories…】
5
I watched the stream of comments fly by, my brow furrowed. I’d forgotten to even blink.
The “guy” they were talking about had to be Reik Thorne, the man destabilizing this entire world.
And all those failed candidates—that must be why the System had warned me so relentlessly about him.
The System had seemingly tried everything.
So why did it believe that I, so painfully ordinary, could possibly complete this mission and pacify Reik Thorne?
As I pondered this, the phantom text shifted its focus to me.
【Honestly, though, the only thing keeping him stable all these years isn’t some replacement or candidate—】
【It’s the son his dead wife left him.】
【She left without a trace, except for that boy.】
【He’s Reik’s only remaining connection to this world.】
【Otherwise, with how insane he was in those first few years, he would have destroyed the world and himself, joining his wife in death long ago.】
【That’s why all those candidates failed, without exception.】
【His wife was his white moonlight, his one true love.】
【She’s the only sacred ground left in his heart.】
【He would never allow anyone to tarnish her memory by wearing her face or stealing her identity.】
【That’s why all those fakes died, each one more miserably than the last.】
【So what about this one?】
【This plain, unprepared, completely unremarkable candidate?】
【How many days will she last?】
—They even started placing bets.
【I bet she dies the next time she meets him.】
【I’m in.】
【Me too.】
Then, someone posted a laughing emoji—
【LOL, she took a pretty nasty fall just now.】
【And it’s snowing hard.】
【We don’t even know if she’ll survive the night…】
6
I lowered my gaze, ignoring the dense wall of mocking text. My eyes focused on the bloody wounds on my body.
But to everyone’s surprise, my next encounter with the Thorne family wasn’t with Reik.
It was his son who came looking for me.
I don’t know how he found me. I only know that when I pushed open the door of my cheap motel room the next morning, he was standing there, all alone, with his school backpack on.
Looking at his face, so eerily similar to his father’s, I stopped in my tracks.
He tilted his head up slightly, his gaze fixed on my face.
“Who are you?” he asked in a low voice.
It was a strange question. He was the one who had sought me out, yet the first thing he asked was who I was.
“My name is Nora,” I answered, my voice earnest.
The moment the words left my mouth, his brow furrowed deeply.
7
The white text feed was relentless.
The instant I spoke my name, it erupted in a unified, mocking chorus.
【Has the System just completely given up?】
【It’s tried sending girls with a similar face—】
【It’s tried sending girls with a similar personality—】
【This is the first time it’s been so blatant, sending a candidate with the exact same name.】
【The System really isn’t afraid of making him angry, is it…】
【It’s one step away from just delivering her to his doorstep and saying: You wanted ‘Nora’? Well, I brought ‘Nora’ back for you…】
Unlike the boisterous text, the boy’s face remained devoid of any emotion.
He just said calmly, “My name is Noah.”
After he spoke, his gaze on me intensified, as if he were observing me, waiting for some kind of reaction.
Nora, Noah…
His name was so similar to mine.
Combined with the information revealed by the phantom text…
Perhaps Reik Thorne’s dead wife was named Nora.
8
But my mind was a complete blank.
I couldn’t give Noah the reaction he was looking for.
The intense, burning hope in his eyes gradually cooled.
Someone came rushing down the hall from the elevator. A well-dressed man in a suit, a head taller than Noah, stopped in front of him and bowed his head.
His voice was pleading. “Young Master, the car is waiting downstairs. You’re going to be late for school.”
Noah slowly lowered his dark lashes.
It looked like disappointment.
He turned to leave, his movements sharp and decisive. But after turning, he paused for a moment. His brow furrowed again.
He looked at the large glass window across the hall and said, “You should get those injuries treated.”
I followed his gaze to my reflection in the glass, to the crude bandages wrapped around my arm and right leg.
The System hadn’t given me any special advantages when I arrived. The little money I had was barely enough for food and shelter. I couldn’t afford to go to a hospital.
Noah was already gone.
My gaze drifted from the window to the blurred reflection of my own face.
9
There was a mottled scar on my right cheek.
The System said I had died in a fire ten years ago.
The System drew its energy from the world it managed. But Reik Thorne was a man who repaid every debt, real or perceived. His wife had died in an “accident” connected to the world’s original hero and heroine. So, without distinguishing between right and wrong, he had exacted his revenge on everyone involved in that accident.
The hero and heroine, the so-called “Children of Providence,” had been dead for five years.
After their deaths, Reik had taken complete control of this world. The System itself was barely surviving, clinging to a thread. Its energy reserves were always low.
That was why it could only restore my body to about 80% of its original state. I was healthy, but my body was covered in burn scars of various sizes that had never fully healed.
I stared at the unfamiliar face in the reflection. It was a plain, even ugly, face.
To choose me as the one to win over a villain like him—
I couldn’t see any hope at all.
No wonder the phantom text was filled with nothing but ridicule for me.
10
But whether there was hope or not, I still had to win over Reik Thorne.
That was the purpose of my resurrection.
It was the only way I could continue to live.
But to do that, I first had to solve the pressing problem of my own survival.
I managed to find a job as a night-shift clerk at the bookstore on the ground floor of Reik Thorne’s corporate tower.
I worked until midnight. The lights in the tower across the street were still blazing.
I sat on the steps outside the bookstore, opening a box of cold takeout.
At 12:07 AM, Reik’s black Bentley glided past. The tinted windows blocked my view completely. I knew he was inside because the phantom text was buzzing with discussion. They seemed to have an extra set of eyes, able to see right through the car window to the man inside, and they used this to heap more scorn on me.
【The System gave up, and it looks like this one has too…】
【Other candidates, the second they arrive, are already scheming how to get in front of him, trying to make an impression or find an opening.】
【But her? She’s taking her sweet time finding a job, just living her own life.】
【Was she scared off by that first run-in with his bodyguards?】
【Am I just supposed to sit here and watch her organize bookshelves all day?】
【If you’re this useless, you shouldn’t have agreed to the mission in the first place…】
I lowered my eyes, ignoring the heated comments. I noticed a stray dog had padded up beside me, its tail wagging, its eyes fixed on me hopefully.
I picked out the only two pieces of meat from my dinner and gave them to the dog. Together, under the dark sky, we shared the meal.
11
I worked at the bookstore for nearly a month.
By the time my injuries had mostly healed, I had another unexpected encounter with Reik Thorne.
It was 11 PM, and the bookstore owner asked me to deliver a stack of pre-packaged books to the tower across the street.
After passing through layers of security checks and questioning, I finally set foot inside the building for the first time.
I handed the books to the client and prepared to leave. The office tower was quiet at night; most people had already gone home. As I waited for the elevator, I heard a faint sound from the end of the hallway.
It sounded like someone in extreme pain.
The elevator was taking forever.
I turned my head and looked toward the end of the hall.
The text feed screamed at me not to get involved. They even suggested I use this opportunity to sneak down to the underground parking garage and wait for Reik to get off work.
But listening to that faint, hoarse cry of pain, I stood there in silence for a long moment, then turned and walked down the hall.
12
No one could have expected it.
Curled up on the landing of a stark, concrete stairwell, bathed in the pale, sterile light, was Reik Thorne.
He was dressed in a pure black shirt and trousers, his shoulders broad and his back straight, but he looked unusually fragile.
The moment I pushed open the heavy fire door, he snapped his head around, instantly alert. His brow was beaded with sweat from the intense pain, but his eyes, when they met mine, were cold and wary.
—I had stumbled upon something I wasn’t supposed to see.
I froze in place. Under his intense gaze, I had no choice but to force the words out. “…Do you need me to call a doctor?”
Reik just stared at me, his expression icy, without saying a word.
I had to raise a hand and press my white face mask tighter against my skin. Because of the scars on my face, I always wore a mask in public to avoid frightening customers or children.
The pressure of his gaze was immense.
I wanted to back away, to leave. But seeing the vein throbbing at his temple from the pain, seeing his deathly pale lips, I felt an inexplicable pang of sympathy.
So I took a step forward and pulled a small bottle of painkillers from my pocket. I’d never seen a proper doctor for my injuries. When the pain became unbearable, I just chewed on painkillers to get through it.
I never thought the pills I always carried would come in handy like this.
13
Under Reik’s unblinking stare, I placed a single pill on the step beside him.
As I turned to leave, he shot out a hand and seized my wrist. His palm was ice-cold, sending a chill through me.
I had no choice but to look down at him. At such a close distance, our eyes met.
“Who are you?” he finally rasped.
The lighting was dim, but I thought I saw something flicker in his dark pupils, a flash of light that was there and then gone.
He moved too fast. Before I could consent or protest, his other hand had reached up and hooked the mask from my face.
Reik’s dark eyes reflected the vivid scars on my cheek.
We were so close.
I saw his gaze tremble.
My face was still too frightening.
I reached up and hooked the mask back in place. I saw his hand suddenly go slack, and a silver chain slipped from his grasp, dangling in the air.
—It was what he had been clutching so tightly in his cold palm.
At the end of the chain was a silver locket. In the center of the locket, I could faintly make out the smiling face of a young girl.
I looked away, not daring to stare.
I left the pill and walked away. This time, Reik didn’t stop me.
Before I left, I glanced back one last time from the doorway.
Reik was still sitting where I had left him. Dressed in severe black, yet radiating an aura of complete desolation.
14
The white text feed was “criticizing” me again.
They called me an idiot, completely clueless.
【I give up…】
【She is honestly the most useless candidate I have ever seen.】
【She just stumbled upon a golden opportunity, a perfect moment, and she didn’t know how to seize it?】
【She just left?】
【Shouldn’t she have stayed, comforted him, showed some concern?】
【She finally gets a moment alone with him, and she just walks away?】
【What is she even doing?】
Some of the comments were even more aggressive, trying to stir up trouble. They thought I should have been more direct, thrown myself into his arms, used the crudest methods to seduce him.
After all, I was doomed anyway. Someone like me could never complete the mission. They were practically begging for me to anger Reik sooner rather than later, to meet my inevitable end. They didn’t want to watch a “candidate” like me anymore.
If I died, a new, more capable candidate would naturally take my place.
🌟 Continue the story here
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🔍 search for “393056”, and watch the full series ✨!
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I am the false princess.
But this is no secret.
My purpose was to protect the Crown Prince, to be a decoy for the true princess.
The day the Prince ascended the throne, I went to offer my congratulations in secret. But I overheard the Queen say to him:
“Aria has occupied that position for far too long. It’s time for her to disappear, and for your sister to return.”
I clutched my gift tightly as I heard my noble, perfect brother reply, his voice clear and cold, “Of course. I will make the arrangements.”
That night, a great fire swept through my wing of the palace.
While everyone else was fighting the flames, I slipped into a crowd of servants being granted leave and escaped.
I never knew that the composed, dignified young emperor had stumbled through the chaos, running headfirst into the inferno to find me.
1
It was March in the capital city of Aurelia, the season of the Imperial Examinations. Scholars from across the entire Empire of Solara gathered here, hoping to walk the hallowed halls of power.
Inside a modest inn, a tall, handsome young man burst into a room, his face alight with joy.
“Aria, I passed! I passed! Tenth place! Tenth place!”
I had just set down a bundle of folded clothes when Carson swept me into a fierce hug. This man, usually so reserved and proper, who spoke in carefully constructed sentences, was now acting like a child, clinging to me and refusing to let go.
I laughed and patted his back. He finally came to his senses, releasing me abruptly and taking two steps back, stammering apologies. I covered my mouth to stifle my laughter, calling him a fool. He just blushed and couldn’t meet my eyes.
Three years ago, I escaped the palace. I was deceived by scoundrels and nearly sold into servitude. It was Carson who saved me and took me home. He had a mother with a bad leg, and their home was humble and poor. The first night I was there, he sat by my door until morning. Overwhelmed with guilt, I left him the only valuable I had—a silver bracelet—and slipped away.
I didn’t know how cruel the world outside could be. Without money, I was helpless. When I was falsely accused of theft and dragged before the local magistrate, Carson appeared again and saved me. He shielded me with his own, not-so-broad body, his scholar’s dignity abandoned as he argued fiercely in my defense.
It was then that I understood something for the first time. When the Queen and the Prince had watched me being punished in the palace, they had explained with cold faces that the royal family had a strict code of conduct. They couldn’t lower themselves to squabble with a lesser concubine, so I would just have to endure it.
But when you truly care for someone, you don’t let them suffer.
So this time, I didn’t leave. I went home with him. To repay his kindness, I did what simple chores I could.
A year ago, Carson’s mother was on her deathbed. With her as our witness, we were married.
But we never shared a bed.
He had told me, “Aria, you must come from a noble family. Though I don’t know what misfortune has befallen you to grant me the honor of marrying you, I dare not take advantage. When I pass the examinations, I swear I will give you a proper wedding, with all the traditional rites and a grand carriage. If I fail, I will still treat you as my own sister and find you a worthy husband.”
Others might have thought his words were empty promises, but not Carson. His gaze was honest, and he was a man of his word. For him, that spontaneous hug was already a great transgression.
2
Carson passing the examinations was a good thing.
But a sense of unease settled deep within me.
Not long after I faked my death and fled the palace three years ago, news spread that the “false princess” had usurped the true princess’s place. That same year, the real princess, Princess Iris, was welcomed into the palace.
When I heard the news, I was selling paintings with Carson in the market. It was only a fleeting moment of shock, and then I was doubled over with laughter, listening to Carson earnestly lecture a customer on the principles of art.
But our peaceful days didn’t last long. A public notice appeared, issued by the new Emperor, Alistair, seeking a missing person. In that instant, the world went dark around me. I had never imagined they would hunt me down so relentlessly.
I was about to make an excuse to leave when Carson found me first. He told me he and his mother were moving back to his hometown, to the local academy, and asked if I would go with them.
I couldn’t have been more relieved.
And so, I spent three years hiding in a remote town. It was only when Carson came to the capital for the examinations that I dared to venture out and breathe again.
3
Carson saw my anxiety, but he didn’t know the truth. He thought it was just a young woman’s worries.
So one night, during the Lantern Festival, under a sky filled with glowing paper lanterns, he made a vow to me.
“I, Carson, swear that in this life, I will never fail you.”
I smiled. “Even if I’m a wanted fugitive of the state? Even if I’ve committed terrible crimes? Even if… I’ve lied to you and deceived you?”
Carson gripped my hand tightly. “If you are a fugitive, I will not harbor you, but I will never abandon you. I will stand with you. If you live, I live. If you die, I die.”
I hugged him, laughing and calling him a fool, but tears streamed down my face.
Someone in the magnificent palace had once said something similar to me.
But he had broken his promise.
4
Carson’s performance in the final palace examination was flawless. He placed fourth in the second rank of scholars.
I could almost see his brilliant future unfolding before me. We could be assigned to a remote post, become local officials, and bring prosperity to the people.
But who could have predicted it?
Who could have predicted that at the celebratory banquet, Princess Iris would single out Carson to be her personal tutor?
When Carson told me, I was so stunned that the hot wax from the candle I was holding nearly dripped onto my fingers.
How could this be?
I closed my eyes.
Why couldn’t I escape her?
The Queen had never been favored by the late King. To protect the Crown Prince and her young daughter, I was secretly brought to the palace. From a young age, the Queen told me of her hardships. The Prince knew I wasn’t his real sister and treated me with indifference. The Queen saw me only as a substitute.
At the time, I didn’t know my true identity. I only thought my brother was cold and my mother’s life was difficult. So I did everything I could to please them. I took the blame for my brother’s mistakes, became a pawn in my mother’s courtly schemes. When my brother was in danger, I stepped forward and drank poisoned wine for him.
That night, as the poison coursed through me, my brother held me tightly, begging me not to die. It was the first time I had ever seen such a vulnerable expression on his usually stoic face. It was then I realized he wasn’t completely indifferent to me. The thought brought me so much joy that I could ignore the searing pain in my gut.
Looking back now, I realize my brother was probably just afraid of losing such a useful tool. All the warmth he showed me afterward was likely just a way to ensure my loyalty.
5
The first day Carson returned from his new post, I waited for him at the door with a lantern. The deep green official’s robe made him look as stately as a pine tree, a true gentleman.
He took my hand and gave me a small box of peach blossom cakes from a famous shop in the south district.
“Look what I brought you.”
The Imperial Palace was in the north district. The cakes were still warm. The craftsmanship of the common folk couldn’t compare to the palace’s, but I loved these cakes. Or rather, I loved the special consideration they represented.
Carson loved to tell me about his day, about the things he saw in the palace. I loved having someone to talk to, so even though I knew the palace better than he did, I pretended to be fascinated.
“The peach blossoms in the palace are in full bloom. I remember you love them most. If I get the chance, I’ll take you to see them. There’s a cat there, a calico, very proud, they say. But guess what? The moment it saw me today, it started rubbing against my legs. And, and…”
Carson tirelessly tried to paint a picture of the palace for me, but he saw my face growing paler and paler.
“Aria? What’s wrong?”
“You love peach blossoms. In the future, shall I fill your palace with them?”
“This cat is filthy, Aria. Don’t touch it.”
“Alright, if Aria is willing to beg me, I suppose I could help you hide this little creature.”
“Aria, when I ascend the throne, I will…”
…
Familiar words flooded my mind, finally dissolving into the cold, sharp blade of his final decree: “I will make the arrangements.”
I forced a stiff smile for Carson’s concerned face. “It’s nothing. I’m just a little tired.”
Carson watched me for a long moment, then suddenly pulled me into his arms.
“Aria, you’re not happy. You haven’t really smiled since we came here. Give me some time. I’ll ask the Emperor for a transfer to a remote post. If you don’t like it here, we’ll leave, okay?”
I felt as if I drew strength from his words. I hugged him back tightly. “Carson. Carson.”
6
On Carson’s third day at his post, he was punished by the Queen Mother, forced to kneel at the palace gates. When I heard the news, I was frantic with worry, but I didn’t dare step outside our home for fear of bringing him more trouble.
When he finally limped through the door that evening, the tears I had been holding back finally fell.
Carson saw them and panicked, rushing to wipe them away. “Aria, don’t cry. I’m back, see? I’m fine. And look what I brought you! Cakes from Li’s bakery.”
He comforted me, coaxing me gently, even though he was the one who was hurt.
“Why did the Queen Mother punish you?” In my memory, the Queen Mother was not a woman prone to anger. She preferred to make people disappear quietly.
At my question, Carson fell silent. He held me tightly and said, “Aria, I will not fail you. I will not fail you.”
The words made no sense. But they were explained the next day.
Princess Iris had asked Emperor Alistair to grant her a marriage to Carson, and Carson had refused.
“Your Majesty, I am already betrothed. My love for her is unwavering. I am grateful for the Princess’s favor, but I dare not presume. I beg Your Majesty to forgive my impertinence. I am willing to accept a lifelong post in the provinces and never return to the capital, to appease the Princess’s anger.”
This was a massive scandal. Everyone knew the princess had been wronged for years, her position usurped. Since her return, she had become the apple of the Queen Mother’s eye, getting anything she desired. The enraged Queen Mother demanded Carson’s immediate execution, but Princess Iris stopped her.
One wanted to kill him, the other wanted to keep him. In the end, for the sake of stability, Alistair made a decision: my status would be demoted. Iris would be the wife, and I would be the concubine.
Iris genuinely liked Carson, so even though royal consorts were not allowed to have concubines, she compromised. It seemed like a happy resolution for everyone.
Except for Carson. His eyes were red with fury.
And so, this newly minted scholar, after only three days in office, resigned. In the court, all royal consorts held official positions. This act was an undeniable declaration of his heart.
“I do not consent to Aria being a concubine. I wish to resign from my post and return home. I beseech Your Majesty to grant my request.”
I don’t know which of his words moved the cold Emperor, but he slowly spoke. “Your wife’s name is Aria?”
“Yes.”
Alistair was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “I do not wish to separate a fated pair. Since you are unwilling, I will not force the matter. Let it be dropped.”
And so, this major crisis was resolved peacefully.
When Carson told me, he was still marveling. “I was thinking at the time, if the Emperor really forced me to marry the princess, I would either resign or spill my blood in the throne room. I could never betray you. Fortunately, His Majesty is a wise ruler. He spared my life and saved us both. I will serve him loyally for the rest of my days to repay his kindness.”
But when I heard Alistair ask my name, my heart had seized. Hearing Carson talk of spilling his blood in court, I forgot everything else.
“You’d spill your blood in the throne room? You… you… if you did that, I’d follow you to the grave just to yell at you.”
Carson saw how angry I was and took my hand. “Aria, don’t be angry. I was wrong. But Aria, the court is a dangerous place. I might leave this world before you. I don’t believe a woman should remain a widow. Don’t follow me in death. If you find someone you like, you can remarry. The rest of your life is too long. I’m afraid of you being lonely.”
In the lamplight, Carson’s gaze was sincere and bright.
I cried, a hiccup escaping me. “You fool. Where in this world could I ever find another fool like you?”
7
The matter of the marriage was dropped, but I had a feeling that, given the Queen Mother’s temperament, she wouldn’t let us off so easily.
Sure enough, a few days later, an invitation came from the palace, asking me to attend a flower-viewing party. Carson was only a minor official. As his wife, how could I possibly be worthy of such an event?
Besides, I would never dare set foot in the palace again.
So I claimed illness. To make it convincing, I rubbed my face with mugwort, causing red blotches to appear all over my skin. That was enough to fool the royal physician. But at the same time, rumors spread that I was hideously ugly. My preference for staying at home became “proof” that I was ashamed to be seen.
When Carson heard, he cupped my face in his hands. “They are all fools. My Aria is the most beautiful girl in the world.”
I was about to tease him for being so glib, but he placed a solemn kiss on my forehead.
“Aria, will you marry me? Properly? I’ve saved enough for a grand carriage and a magnificent procession.”
His eyes crinkled with a smile. It was infectious.
And so, I heard myself say, “Yes.”
8
Carson went to the palace to request leave for our wedding, but he didn’t come back.
As I stood at the door with a lantern, a small sedan chair was carried up. A thin, reedy voice called out. I knew instantly it was someone from the palace.
“Lady Carson, your husband is drunk in the palace. You are requested to come and fetch him.”
I covered my face in fear. “My husband never drinks to excess. Why would he suddenly be drunk?”
The eunuch let out a strange laugh. “That, this servant wouldn’t know. I only know that if you do not go, your husband will not be coming back.”
As he spoke, he revealed a jade pendant.
It was Carson’s.
I gripped the lantern, my body frozen.
It seemed like a long time passed, or maybe no time at all. I heard myself say, “Let’s go.”
I couldn’t let him lose his career, lose his life, for my sake.
The one who wanted to see me wasn’t the Queen Mother. It was Iris.
The beautiful princess had an air of naive innocence. When she saw me, she was very disappointed. She didn’t recognize me, the person who had lived her life for sixteen years.
“You really are plain. I don’t know what my dear Carson sees in you. Well, dispose of her cleanly. Have someone return the pendant secretly. Don’t let Carson know.”
I was gagged and dragged out of the hall.
“What do we do with her? It’s not easy to get out of the palace now.”
“Then deal with her in the palace. This place is vast enough to hide one more body.”
“The Rose Garden is deserted. Dump her there.”
Hearing this, my eyes widened.
The Rose Garden. That was the name of my old quarters.
Why, after all this, was I back where I started?
“But… aren’t we forbidden from entering there?”
“That’s what makes it the perfect place to handle this.”
“Stop dawdling. Let’s go.”
I was jostled along the path until the sweet scent of peach blossoms filled the air.
“We’re here.”
“Quick, quick, just drown her and bury her. Get it over with.”
The next second, water engulfed me. The will to live made me struggle. The eunuch seemed inexperienced at this, and I managed to break free.
“Who’s there?”
A familiar voice made me freeze, and I was pushed back under.
“What is His Majesty doing here?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. He’ll leave soon. Just hold her down and it’ll be fine.”
In that moment, I hesitated between crying for help and staying silent.
Until: “Your Majesty, I have gathered the finest peach blossoms. Thank you for your generosity.”
Those words struck me like a thunderbolt. An overwhelming sense of injustice surged through me. I couldn’t think anymore. I fought my way to the surface.
“Husband, save me!”
Alistair’s body went rigid. He turned around in disbelief.
I scrambled past him and threw myself into Carson’s arms.
“Husband, save me!”
Before Carson’s comforting words could come, a hoarse voice cut through the air. “Aria? Is that you?”
🌟 Continue the story here
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I am Levias Thorne’s kept woman, his little bird in a gilded cage. In bed, I’m all sultry wiles and coquettish charm, the kind of woman who can wrap a powerful man around her little finger.
Out of bed, I carry myself like his rightful wife, amusing myself by sparring with the woman he supposedly pines for, his one-that-got-away.
To everyone else, I am a woman madly in love with Levias Thorne, a mere substitute destined to be discarded.
The truth is, I don’t love him at all. I only love his money.
Under the cover of his name, my own business ventures have flourished. I’m on the verge of becoming a new powerhouse in the corporate world.
I decide to dump him first, staging a tearful, dramatic breakup. “Levias, I’ve spent five years trying to make you love me… I’m tired. Let’s end this.”
A bead of sweat drips from his chin onto my skin. He looks down at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Just as I thought. A woman gets a little money and her heart changes. How about this: I’ll bankrupt you, help you get back to your roots.”
1
Levias rose from the bed and started dressing. “She’s flying back today,” he said. “Prepare a welcome banquet for her at the Serenity Garden.”
“She” was Amelia Garcia, Levias Thorne’s unrequited love, his white moonlight.
I draped myself over his back like a boneless cat, my freshly manicured nails tracing the lines of his abs. His body tensed for a moment.
“Who else will be there?”
“Just friends from our circle.”
My eyes darted around mischievously. I purred, “A proper banquet needs proper jewelry. I saw this gorgeous jade bracelet, top-grade icy jade, but it’s a little… pricey. Eight hundred thousand.”
“Buy it.”
I squealed with delight and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Levias, darling, I love you.”
He was unmoved by my declaration of love, grabbing my wrist instead. “These nails are too long,” he said, his voice flat. “My back is covered in scratches.”
I gave him a guilty smile. “But they look so good… Should I cut them?”
“Leave them. They do look good.”
His eyes darkened. He pulled me onto his lap and gave me a long, passionate kiss.
Later, at the Serenity Garden, I greeted the guests, the new jade bracelet glittering on my wrist. I had shed my bedroom persona and was now the picture of a dignified, gracious hostess, the perfect wife.
Amelia’s clique of friends were whispering loudly about me.
“Amelia, that’s her. Levias’s little pet.”
“Her eyes look so much like yours, Amelia. Everyone in our circle knows she’s just your substitute!”
“I heard she was just some small-time actress before. She only got where she is today because she looks like you.”
“Amelia, don’t be sad. Levias really loves you.”
My eyes met Amelia’s. She was beautiful, the kind of woman who had clearly been coddled and raised in luxury her whole life.
The rumor was that Amelia had been the one to “save” Levias back in high school, when he was just a poor kid with nothing. But Amelia was in love with Carter Hayes, the heir to a massive old-money fortune. She had married Carter and they had moved to the States. Levias was with me, they said, because I was her replacement.
Now, Amelia was divorced and back in the country. A lot of people were waiting to see me, the substitute, get thrown out by Levias.
I raised my glass and gave Amelia a warm, friendly nod and smile. She was taken aback, clearly not expecting that reaction. She was Levias’s cherished memory; I wasn’t stupid enough to provoke her. Keeping a respectful distance was the smart play.
But Amelia’s friends wouldn’t let it go.
Suddenly, I felt a hard shove from behind. I stumbled into the champagne tower. I lost my balance, about to fall into a sea of shattered glass. I instinctively protected my precious bracelet and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the pain.
It never came.
A hand grabbed my arm, yanking me upright. I collided with a solid chest, the familiar scent of a man’s cologne filling my senses.
Amelia and her friends had really pissed me off.
Fine. I could be crazy, too.
I wrapped my arms around the man’s neck, looked at the lackey who had pushed me, and said in my most fragile, helpless voice, “Levias, darling~~ I’m pregnant. Our baby… she almost killed our baby.”
The entire room seemed to freeze, a collective gasp rippling through the crowd as they stared, hungry for the drama.
Levias frowned at me, his eyes a mixture of shock, joy, and something akin to awe. His eyes were even turning red.
He used protection every single time. How could he possibly believe my bullshit?!
Did he think I’d secretly poked holes in them?
2
“You’re lying! I didn’t push you!”
I pointed to the security camera directly above the woman’s head. “Should I have them pull the footage?”
The woman looked desperately at Amelia, pleading for her to speak up. Amelia avoided her gaze, distancing herself completely.
The woman panicked. “You’re not hurt, are you? I… I was just joking!”
Levias’s anger twisted into a cold smile. “A joke? Then I’ll be sure to ‘joke’ with you often in the future. I hope you’ll still be laughing then.”
In this city, Levias Thorne was a name that struck fear into people’s hearts. He was known for being swift, ruthless, and vengeful. For him to say that meant the woman was in for a world of hurt.
She collapsed onto the floor, looking utterly lost as the staff escorted her out.
My original plan was to first claim the moral high ground, then go ballistic and shove her face into the broken glass to scare her. I hadn’t expected Levias to actually believe my lie and stand up for me.
I was about to confess to him when Amelia spoke up. “Levias, I need to talk to you.”
“Let’s go to the tea room.”
Levias and Amelia left together. He didn’t spare me another glance.
Was I hurt?
Of course not.
In these five years, aside from the gifts Levias had given me, the stocks and funds he’d helped me invest in, and the projects he’d brought me into, I had made a fortune. Looking at the eight-figure balance in my bank account, I was the sunniest, happiest girl in the world.
With Levias gone, I was like a mouse in a cheese factory. Levias’s circle of friends was a goldmine of connections, the rich and powerful. How could I let such a precious resource go to waste? I had started my own company, and this welcome banquet was my sales pitch. The guests were all potential clients.
With my silver tongue, I closed three million in deals over the course of the meal.
Levias’s best friend, Ian, said, “Levias is in a room alone with his old flame. Aren’t you jealous?”
“I’ll get to that later. That new project of yours, I want to invest five million.”
“What if it fails?”
“If it fails, I’ll go cry to Levias and make him pay me back.”
Ian burst out laughing. “Alright, Levias is completely wrapped around your finger.”
I had done my due diligence on Ian’s project. It wouldn’t fail. And if it weren’t for Levias, Ian would have never let me in on it. My mind was a busy abacus, clicking and clacking. Making money was the happiest thing in the world.
Still, in front of my sugar daddy, I had to act like I loved him more than I loved money.
3
I peeked into the tea room, ready to play the part of the jealous lover.
Levias saw me and beckoned me inside. “From now on, Amelia will be staying at the Serenity Garden. Arrange a room for her. She is my honored guest. See to it that her needs are well taken care of.”
The Serenity Garden was a magnificent, traditional-style estate. Old money families all had their ancestral homes, their main residences. The Serenity Garden was Levias’s, the seat of his self-made dynasty. He spent most of his time here.
A sour feeling churned in my stomach. So this was the power of the white moonlight. She could just waltz in and take up residence.
Oh well. I’d just have to use Levias’s card to buy myself a new bag to cheer myself up.
I smiled, the picture of a gracious and understanding partner. “Of course, darling.”
Levias took a sip of his tea, his expression coolly indifferent. “Go on, then.”
I took Amelia to her room. She struck up a conversation. “It’s been over a decade. Levias is a real powerhouse now. You never saw him at eighteen. He was the only scholarship student at our elite private school. He was so plain and poor, and so gloomy. Carter Hayes and his gang of rich kids used to bully him relentlessly. They beat him so badly he went deaf in one ear. If I hadn’t paid for the surgery to fix his hearing, how could a deaf boy have ever become the CEO he is today?”
So she was here to cash in on that old debt, to live off him for free. When he was poor, she looked down on him. Now that he was successful, she was back, trying to snatch him up?
We were walking across a small bridge in the garden.
Suddenly, Amelia shoved me into the lake.
“Help! Someone fell in the water!”
After shouting, Amelia jumped in too. She grabbed my hair, her eyes filled with malice. “Tell me, do you think this ice-cold water is enough to make you miscarry?”
She pushed my head under the water.
A terrible memory flooded my mind…
A winter day. My father shoves my head into a water barrel crusted with ice. “I work my ass off all day, and you can’t even make a hot meal! What’s the point of a girl getting an education? You’re eighteen now. I’ve already settled the bride price with the Lowell family. You’re getting married!”
Amelia kept my head submerged, not letting me breathe. I reached my limit, gasping in a mouthful of water. Rage consumed me. I struggled, broke the surface, and punched her square in the face.
My strength was fading. I doggy-paddled to the shore.
Just then, Levias and the others arrived.
I was shivering violently. I looked at Levias. He took off his coat, knelt down, and wrapped it tightly around me. I huddled in his arms, already plotting my revenge against Amelia. This was our first real fight. I had to show her what I was made of.
“Levias… save me!” Amelia thrashed in the water, crying for help.
Levias said to one of his men, “Pull her out.”
Once on shore, Amelia burst into tears. “She slipped and fell in. I was trying to save her. But when she got to the edge, she punched me in the face! That’s why I almost drowned…”
The bruise on Amelia’s face was a blatant piece of evidence. Her friends immediately chimed in. “Lily Hill! You’re so vicious!”
“Our kind Amelia risked her life to save you, and you tried to kill her!”
I clutched my stomach and let out a heart-wrenching wail. “Levias, our baby… it’s gone!”
The guests gasped. A moment ago, they had been looking at me with disgust, as if I were the evil villainess. Now, their faces were filled with sympathy. They turned on Amelia and her friends.
“Just shut up. She just lost a child. Don’t provoke her.”
“She must have been terrified. That’s why she hit Amelia by mistake.”
“You just got a punch. She lost a baby.”
“If you’re so kind, then just drop it.”
Levias swept me into his arms and strode quickly toward the bedroom.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and shot Amelia a triumphant look over his shoulder. She stood frozen, her face a mask of resentment and jealousy.
4
In the bathroom, Levias pressed me against the cold tiles.
He had seen through my lie back when I first confronted the lackey.
“Let go of me! Levias… you didn’t use protection!”
“Don’t you want a baby? I’ll give you one right now!”
I glanced at our reflection in the mirror. Levias was kissing my neck, urgent and fierce. My own expression was a mixture of dark satisfaction and triumph.
Five years. I didn’t know if he had ever truly had feelings for me. But he was definitely physically attracted to me.
I picked up his cigarette case and lit one.
He looked up at me. “Pay attention.”
I blew a puff of smoke in his face. “This is too exciting. I need a cigarette to calm down.”
That only made him crazier.
…
“You made a lot of mistakes today,” he said later, carrying me to the bedroom. “Reflect on them. Tell me everything you did wrong.”
I wracked my brain. “I shouldn’t have… lied about being pregnant.”
“Continue.”
“I shouldn’t have… hit your white moonlight.”
Levias’s hand cupped the back of my neck. “You have no idea what you did wrong, do you? No matter. We have plenty of time.”
I buried my face in the pillow. He had been working out like a madman lately, and his stamina was even better. I wanted to run.
Levias grabbed my ankle and pulled me back for more. He kissed my swollen lips, wiping away my tears. “Crying so pitifully. Do you know what you did wrong yet?”
Overwhelmed, a sudden moment of clarity struck me. “I shouldn’t have… protected the bracelet first when I fell.”
“Mm.”
I smiled. “I knew you cared about me, darling.”
Levias stroked my back. “Are you jealous that I let her stay?”
“Of course. I love you so much, I’m dying of jealousy.”
He sat up, lit a cigarette, his voice and expression cool. “Hah. You don’t love me. You only love my money.”
I shot back, full of false bravado, “How could I be so shallow? I’m also greedy for your body.”
I took the cigarette from his hand and finished the last half.
Just then, the butler came to the door. The white moonlight had a fever.
“You go to sleep. I’ll go check on her.”
The moment a man gets out of bed, he’s a heartless bastard.
To be honest, I was a little hurt. Just a tiny bit.
I pulled the covers over my head and fell into a deep sleep.
5
I woke the next morning to see Levias standing on the balcony, smoking. I had no idea when he’d come back.
There was a deep loneliness about him. After five years together, he was still an enigma. I couldn’t figure him out. He was rich, handsome, had a great body, and was good in bed. He was generous with me, gave me the resources to start my business, and taught me so much. He was a truly charismatic man.
Seeing I was awake, he slid open the door and came inside. He walked over and hugged me. He was cold, carrying the chill of the night.
The atmosphere was just right. I couldn’t help but ask the question that bothered me most. “Am I Amelia’s substitute?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t think so.” I laid on the flattery thick. “Using a substitute is something only a low-life scumbag would do. You, darling, are a man of noble character. You’re above such things.”
He chuckled at my antics and kissed my forehead. “Mm. You’re not a substitute.”
“Then who am I to you?”
I puffed out my chest proudly. “I am your most cherished little bird in a gilded cage!”
I was joking, but he wasn’t smiling. He frowned. “About what happened at the lake. Don’t you have anything to say to me?”
I was well aware of the destructive power of a white moonlight. Accusing her without any proof would not only be unbelievable to him, but it would also make him resent me.
“Not at the moment.”
The warmth in Levias’s eyes vanished, replaced by a look that said he wanted to strangle me. Of course. I’d hurt his precious memory, and now he was upset.
I decided to placate him first. I flirtatiously swept my bangs aside, my voice a sultry purr. “Darling, I’ll give you an explanation for this later. Don’t be angry.”
Heh heh heh. Amelia had messed with the wrong person. If I didn’t get her kicked out of the Serenity Garden, my name wasn’t Lily Hill.
“Do whatever you want.” Levias turned and left.
My stomach churned. I clutched it, grimacing, already plotting my next move against Amelia.
Levias came back with stomach medicine and a bowl of congee. I had developed stomach problems from years of going hungry as a child. After five years of being pampered by Levias, it rarely acted up anymore. I had been hiding the pain. How did he know?
“Take the medicine, then eat the congee.”
“Oh.”
I sniffled, touched. I tugged on his belt. “Levias Thorne, I don’t care what history you have with her. My bottom line is this: you only sleep with me. If I find out you’ve been unfaithful, I’m done with you.”
As a kept woman, you can’t just be submissive. Showing a bit of strength now and then is more attractive.
He looked at me for a long time, his eyes shining. “Alright.”
He was completely wrapped around my finger.
6
Levias went to the office.
I caught a few non-venomous snakes and put them under Amelia’s bed. While she was taking her afternoon nap, I squatted outside her door, eating sunflower seeds.
“AHHHHHHHHHH!”
Amelia’s scream echoed through the Serenity Garden.
I walked into her room. A patterned snake was coiling itself around her calf, its tongue flicking in and out. Other snakes were writhing on her duvet. She was terrified of snakes, crying and screaming hysterically. “Get them away from me! AHHHHHHH! Lily Hill… I shouldn’t have pushed you into the lake! I know I was wrong, please get the snakes away!”
I took out my phone. “Say that again. I’m recording.”
Amelia, her face a mess of tears and snot, her body rigid with fear, repeated herself.
I opened a burlap sack and deftly scooped the snakes back inside, one by one.
“What’s all the commotion?”
Did this woman have some kind of protagonist-level luck? Why was Levias home at this hour?
Amelia saw him and ran toward him barefoot. She was wearing a silk nightgown, her long hair flowing behind her. It was actually a rather beautiful scene.
Levias dodged her embrace. Amelia missed, nearly face-planting on the floor.
I discreetly tried to hide the sack behind my back. But the snakes had surprisingly sharp teeth. They had chewed through the sack and were escaping.
One snake lunged and bit my arm.
Levias rushed over, grabbed the snake by the neck, and slammed it on the ground. The snake went limp.
“Butler, get the car!”
“This snake isn’t venomous…”
“Shut up! Even if it’s not venomous, you’re going to the hospital! Let a doctor check your brain!”
Hmph. His precious white moonlight was fine. Why was he so angry? So annoying.
I decided to stir the pot some more. I played the recording. “Levias, darling, you heard it. She was the one who pushed me at the lake.”
Amelia reacted quickly, her voice full of hurt. “I’m terrified of snakes… She used them to force a confession. The words on that recording, they’re not true.”
“Enough!” Levias’s face was like a thundercloud. He ordered someone to get rid of the snakes, then grabbed my arm. “Is this the explanation you were going to give me? You’ve been with me for five years. How can you still be so brainless?!”
I shook his hand off. “I don’t like the word ‘with’. Don’t use that tone of superiority with me!”
7
Suddenly, the whole thing just felt pointless.
I was so rich now. People called me Ms. Hill. Why was I fighting with another woman over a man? If I dumped Levias, I could have my pick of eight male models.
I feigned tears, putting on a show of a tragic, tormented lover. “Levias Thorne, I’ve spent five years trying to make you love me… Since your white moonlight is back, I won’t stand in your way. I’m tired. Let’s break up!”
Levias’s expression turned terrifying. He raised his hand.
I thought he was going to hit me and covered my head.
He threw me over his shoulder and strode out of the room.
Back in the bedroom, he tossed me onto the bed.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t rip my clothes… This is a new Hermès dress!”
…
A bead of sweat dripped from Levias’s chin onto my skin. He looked down at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Just as I thought. A woman gets a little money and her heart changes. How about this: I’ll bankrupt you, help you get back to your roots.”
This time, I was genuinely scared. He could play with my emotions, but he couldn’t mess with my money.
“Darling, I was just being dramatic. Don’t take me seriously.” I could be flexible. I beamed at him, my eyes crinkling. “Darling, I still love you. I can’t live without you.”
Levias’s smile was handsome, but chilling. “Remember this. If I don’t let you go, you’re not going anywhere. Lily Hill, you made two mistakes today: first, you let a snake bite you; second, you tried to break up with me. How should I punish you?”
Levias’s fingers threaded through my hair, finding the long scar on the back of my head. There was a flicker of pain in his eyes. He sighed, a sound of resignation. “Forget it… I’m not the one in charge here. You’re the one who rules my world.”
This time, he was exceptionally gentle.
Levias was taking care of his divorced ex-love, but he wouldn’t break up with me. What was he thinking?
In a moment of passion, I bit down hard on his shoulder and wiped the sweat from his chin. He was so sexy…
I fell asleep, exhausted and satisfied.
When I woke up, the snake bite had been treated. With nothing better to do, I went to Amelia’s room to annoy her, channeling the persona of a viciously favored imperial concubine from a historical drama.
I saw a servant bringing her a meal and glanced at the food. “What’s her status? She’s eating the same bird’s nest soup as me? Take it away.”
Amelia was furious. “Lily Hill, do you really think you’re the mistress of the Serenity Garden?!”
I gave the servant a look. The servant said haughtily, “All expenses at the Serenity Garden are managed by Ms. Hill. You eat what Ms. Hill tells you to eat.”
I grabbed a handful of Amelia’s hair. “If I had really been pregnant, you would have actually killed my child. You’d better sleep with one eye open. There might be a snake hiding in a corner somewhere that we missed.”
Fear crossed Amelia’s face. “Lily Hill, you won’t be gloating for long!”
Two days later, Amelia made her next move. She exposed the secret I had hidden for years.
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I am a Prince of the Veridian Empire.
In my most glorious years, I tormented the man they now call the King’s Shadow, Leon. I trampled upon his brokenness, mocking him for the pleasures he could no longer have.
After I lost everything, he was the one who played with me until I shattered.
“Even without that, Your Highness,” he would murmur, “I have a thousand ways to serve you.”
“A eunuch, you say? The pleasures a eunuch can offer… are more varied than you can possibly imagine.”
1
I was sprawled across Leon’s lap like a discarded rag doll, completely spent.
He looked down, savoring the blankness in my eyes. His long, elegant fingers, slick with a moist sheen, slowly wiped themselves on the small of my back.
I had already wept myself hollow. My limbs were weak, pliant, and useless.
I never knew. I never knew a eunuch could possess such skills. His methods of torment were more numerous, more inventive, than any whole man’s.
And I, a Prince of the Veridian Empire, had been reduced to this pathetic state before him. Utterly his to take, his to command.
The shame. The burning, unbearable shame.
I swung my hand, striking him across the face. I did it with the hand that wore my signet ring, not just reddening that pale, handsome cheek, but carving a fine, bloody line into the skin.
I snarled through gritted teeth, “You insolent dog, you don’t know your place.”
But my tears and curses earlier had earned me no pity from him. He had simply watched, his expression one of rapturous madness, his pupils dilated with an almost feral excitement as he held me captive, a plaything he could not be denied. I was a fish on his chopping block, and he had gutted me again and again.
This time, Leon offered no argument. He simply touched a thumb to the cut on his cheek, smearing the blood slightly. “My apologies, Your Highness. The fault is mine.”
There was not a shred of remorse in his voice. It was a promise, clear as day: he wasn’t finished, and he would dare to do it again.
And why shouldn’t he? Given his station now, why would he ever need to bow his head to me? My fury was impotent, a pointless gesture.
A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I lay limp on his lap, listlessly twisting the ring on my finger. “How is my mother?”
“Thanks to your… generosity, Your Highness, the Queen Mother’s illness has greatly improved.”
As it should. She had been wasting away all winter. If I hadn’t come crawling to Leon, hadn’t stripped myself bare for his amusement, she would have been left to die.
The King’s Shadow. A title of such power. This damned servant, once nothing, was now a lord in his own right.
And I, the true prince, was now just a beaten dog, living in constant fear.
Ever since my bid for the throne failed and my brother was crowned, I was no longer the exalted Fourth Prince. I couldn’t even summon a royal physician. The new king, my brother, refused to see me. Every door was barred.
So, on the day of the first snow, I went to the one person I had sworn I would never beg from.
The brazier in Leon’s chambers burned bright, melting the fine snowflakes from my hair and brows. The warmth was so sudden, so enveloping, it made me want to weep.
He was dressed in the severe black and silver of the Obsidian Directorate, lounging on a divan and stroking a white cat in his lap. “Your Highness knows as well as I do,” he said, his voice a low purr, “that if His Majesty wants the Queen Mother dead, no one can save her.”
He was right. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here. The only person who had the new king’s ear was Leon. It was Leon, after all, who had crushed all opposition to put my brother on the throne.
My fists clenched. I bowed my head. “For the sake of what we once were, I’m begging you…”
“What we once were?” Leon scoffed, finally looking up at me. His eyes were like chips of ice. “Your Highness, is there anything left between us?”
There had been. Once.
But not anymore.
In the struggle for succession, he had chosen my brother, Julian. He had hurt me, and I had humiliated him. Whatever bond we had was long since buried under a mountain of hate.
I was speechless.
“Your Highness,” he said, his voice turning silken and dangerous. “If you’re going to beg, you should look the part.” He set the cat aside. “I’ll save the Queen Mother. But what will you give me in return?”
What could I give? I had nothing left.
“What do you want?”
Leon paused, wiping his hands on a silk cloth. Then he said one word. “Undress.”
My mind went white, then flooded with a hot, furious disbelief. “What did you say?”
The flickering lamplight danced across his face, making his handsome features seem almost demonic. He repeated the word, his tone flat and even. “Take off your clothes.”
He tossed the cloth into the fire, holding his long, pale hands over the flames to warm them. “I want to see you, Your Highness. The more you bare for me, the faster the Queen Mother’s recovery will be.”
2
That day, I shattered my own pride. Piece by piece, I shed my fine clothes, stripping away the dignity of my royal blood along with them.
He pressed me down onto his lap and explored every inch of me, inside and out.
When the torment became unbearable, I bit down on his arm, tears streaming down my face. When the waves of pleasure crested, I moaned his name.
Through it all, Leon remained cold, detached, as if all my writhing and weeping couldn’t stir a single ember of interest in him. Not because he lacked the means, but because he lacked the desire. For me. Even as a eunuch, he had no interest in me.
He didn’t want me. He only wanted to know the most exquisite way to humiliate me. This was his revenge. Revenge for how I had once shamed him.
The white cat sat by his feet, looking up at me with curious, tilted eyes, letting out a soft meow.
He was toying with me, just as he toyed with the cat.
How dare he! How dare he debase me like this!
My teeth sank into his arm, drawing blood.
Leon merely pinched my chin, his fingers probing at my teeth. He chuckled. “Such sharp teeth.”
My face was a mess of tears. I trembled against his lap, a broken thing.
His gaze darkened for a moment. He released my jaw, but his words were still barbs. “You can’t take this much? You’re more delicate than my little Snow-Puff.”
He was comparing me to a cat.
I snapped my mouth shut, biting his fingers instead.
Leon didn’t flinch, letting me chew until his hand was slick with blood. With his free hand, he idly stroked my hair twice.
“Always biting,” he murmured. “One of these days, I’ll have to file down those sharp little fangs of yours.”
3
I spent the entire winter in the Obsidian Directorate’s fortress. I was only allowed to return to the Rosewood Palace once my mother was well.
A lady-in-waiting stopped me at the door. The Queen Mother was awake, but she wasn’t seeing visitors.
Not even me.
Three days later, my mother requested permission to leave the capital and retire to the Royal Sepulcher to “tend to the late king’s memory.”
She left without a single word of farewell. I saw her carriage pulling away and I ran, chasing it past the palace walls, my throat raw from shouting her name. I fell, scrambled back up, and kept running.
I was finally caught at the Crimson Gate.
Leon’s arm wrapped around my waist, a band of steel. “Stop, Your Highness. It’s long past the gates. Where do you think you’re going?”
The road ahead was empty. The carriage was gone.
I shoved him away like a madman, my eyes burning. “Go away! Get away from me! All of you, just go!” My voice cracked into a hysterical shriek. “Leave! Just leave me! Leave me with nothing!”
Let me be utterly alone, trapped in this gilded cage to rot.
Leon frowned, clamping a hand over my mouth and pinning me against the cold stone of the palace wall. “What are you shouting for?” he hissed. “You useless thing. Can’t you survive without your mother?”
I glared at him, a venomous, hateful stare.
He wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. His voice softened, turning into a low, coaxing murmur. “I won’t leave. How about I take care of you, hmm?”
I couldn’t push him away. I could only stare at him as fresh tears spilled from my eyes.
Leon watched me for a long moment. “Don’t cry,” he commanded.
I cried harder.
What right did he have to tell me what to do?
He didn’t want me. Just like my mother.
4
Leon wasn’t always a eunuch.
He was born Caelan de Valerius, son of the Minister of Justice. At eight, he wrote an ode so brilliant the King himself praised him as “a dragon destined for more than this small pond” and appointed him as my eldest brother’s companion.
When I was five, Caelan stole my candied fruits. At six, he took me hunting for birds’ nests. At seven, he bribed me with sugar sculptures to call him “big brother.” At nine, he tricked me into fishing the most prized koi from the imperial gardens so we could roast it over a fire.
My mother was so furious her hair practically stood on end. She grabbed my ear and yelled, “Stay away from that little hellion from House Valerius!”
So, Caelan taught me how to climb walls and crawl through doggy doors to escape her.
When I was thirteen, the Crown Prince was accused of treason and sentenced to death. House Valerius was dragged down with him, branded as co-conspirators.
His entire clan was executed. Only Caelan was spared, brought into the palace to serve, reborn as the young eunuch, Leon.
It wasn’t me who saved him. It was my second brother, Julian. Julian knelt in the snow before the King’s chambers for half a day to beg for Caelan’s life. The act shattered his already fragile health, leaving him with a sickness that would never heal.
Leon once told me he would have rather died than have Julian kneel for him, to have been the cause of his lifelong ailment.
Leon adored Julian.
But that day… that day, I had also knelt. I knelt in my own palace for a day and a night, my forehead bruised and bloody from kowtowing, begging my mother to intervene, to save Caelan’s life.
But in the end, I was powerless.
Leon was assigned to Julian’s Ivory Palace, and from then on, we were strangers.
I thought he blamed me for not saving him. I once cornered him in a corridor, trying to explain in a low, humbled voice, trying every means I knew to have him transferred to my service.
But Leon refused.
He said he wanted to stay with Julian.
He said, “The Fourth Prince is showered with every imaginable favor. The Second Prince has nothing. I have to stay with him.”
And among all those favors showered upon me, the one I truly wanted was missing. Leon’s. He gave the part of him that should have been mine to Julian.
Later, the rivalry for the throne between Julian and me grew fiercer. My personal attendant, Pip, a boy who had been with me for years, “slipped” and drowned in a pond. Pip, who always covered for Caelan and me when we snuck out to play. Pip, who knew just how to rub my stomach when I ate too much.
And it was Leon who had killed him. With his own hands.
Pip knew how to swim. He crawled out of that pond three times, and three times Leon kicked him back in, until he didn’t surface again.
I hated Leon. I hated him with a fury that burned away my sleep.
I used my father’s favor to have Leon transferred to my palace. I took a whip to him, grabbing him by the collar and demanding to know why. Why he had killed my friend.
Leon just laughed, a low, chilling sound. “Because he was in the Second Prince’s way.”
I slapped him across the face. “A fine dog Julian has raised.”
I sneered. “The servants whisper that you’re his bedwarmer, his little pet. I didn’t believe it, but now I see I thought too highly of you.”
I pressed my foot down on the scar between his legs, on his wound, on his nothingness. “Tell me,” I hissed, “can you even please him, without your… equipment? How exactly do you serve him?”
Leon let me crush him, swallowing the pain. A smile played on his lips. “Is that jealousy I hear, Your Highness?”
The words stung like a wasp. A sharp, piercing pain shot through my heart. Blinded by rage, I kicked him away. I shielded my wounded heart with the most vicious words I could find.
A prince like me, was I supposed to kneel and beg for a scrap of affection from this heartless, treacherous slave?
“Jealousy?” I spat. “I’m just disgusted.”
“I can’t imagine how my brother can even stomach it. A rootless thing like you. What kind of pleasure could you possibly give? Aren’t you afraid of dirtying him?”
I forced a contemptuous smile, my eyes crimson with malice, and I ground my heel down, tormenting him with a mad frenzy. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to hate. I wanted him to feel the same tearing pain that I felt.
“I gave you a chance to be a man, and you refused. So be a good dog for me now.”
Leon stayed in my palace for a year and a half. I unleashed all my hatred and fury upon him. He always remained silent, his eyes downcast, enduring it all.
Until he was transferred out of my service and into the Heartstone Palace, to serve my father, the King.
From there, Leon rose meteorically. He became my father’s most trusted advisor, Director of the Obsidian Directorate, the keeper of the King’s seal.
And after my father died, it was Leon who put Julian on the throne, abandoning me completely.
5
During the Spring Hunt, the new king, Julian, seemed to finally remember me, the loser in the game of succession. He invited me to join him.
When it was time to depart, a pageboy came for me. As I approached the royal carriage, I could hear laughter from within.
It was Julian, whining like a child. “I take it back. That was a bad move. I don’t want to play my piece there.”
Leon’s voice, calm and measured, replied, “Your Majesty, a move made cannot be unmade.”
“And what if I do?”
Leon sighed, his patience seemingly infinite. “Nothing, Your Majesty. You are the king. Whatever you do is right.”
Julian chuckled twice, then broke into a fit of coughing.
The pageboy announced my arrival in a hushed tone.
I boarded the carriage, my eyes fixed on the floor. I knelt, prostrating myself fully. “Your servant, Adrian Thorne, greets His Majesty. Long may you reign.”
The carriage fell silent. Another bout of coughing, then Julian’s gentle voice. “It’s only been a few days, Adrian. Must you be so formal? You treat me like a stranger.”
My eyes remained downcast. “I would not dare.”
“Don’t kneel. Get up,” he said, a note of displeasure in his tone.
I rose obediently.
I saw Leon holding a small bowl, stirring a concoction of pear water with a silver spoon. He waited for it to cool before handing it to Julian. “Drink this.”
He was capable of such tenderness. Just not for me.
The one Leon chose, from beginning to end, was always Julian. Even the throne, Leon had won it for him.
My father had once doted on me more than anyone. Yet on his deathbed, he named Julian his successor.
It was Leon who delivered the decree.
I didn’t believe it. The court didn’t believe it. But Leon crushed all dissent, killing a few key nobles with brutal efficiency to force Julian onto the throne.
He knew. He knew how desperately I wanted to be king. He knew how much my mother and I had sacrificed for that ambition. He knew that for one of us to rise, the other must fall.
He knew it all. And he chose Julian.
In truth, Leon had always chosen Julian. I was the fool who thought I could ever compete. Only after I had fallen, broken and defeated, did I understand. What isn’t yours can never be taken, no matter how you fight.
Now, having lost everything, I had finally accepted it. I was a prince of the blood. What kind of servant couldn’t I have? Was it really worth losing myself over a castrated slave?
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My husband is incredibly wealthy, but I don’t love him.
Back in college, he moved heaven and earth trying to win over my roommate, Chloe. Lavish gifts arrived one after another, and he once famously had nine thousand roses delivered to the front of our dorm building. All the girls in our hall got a piece of the action, hauling armfuls of roses back to our rooms like we were looting a botanical garden.
The only one who remained unimpressed was Chloe herself.
She even warned Julian Payne to never bother her again.
“He’s rich, and he’s not bad-looking. Are you sure you don’t want him?” I asked one night, my face covered in a sheet mask, finally voicing the question that had been nagging at me. She had a face that could launch a thousand ships, yet she spent all her time with a broke upperclassman who juggled four part-time jobs.
“No way. He’s so stuffy and serious. If you want him, you go for it,” Chloe said with a dismissive sniff.
I rested my chin on my hand, gave it a moment’s thought, and nodded.
“Fine.”
“I will.”
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My bones had been pinned by a Soul-Binding Ward for thirteen years, and my soul had grown so bored it was threatening to fray apart.
Then I met her—the trueborn daughter, cast out by House Croft.
She lay upon my skeletal remains, tears streaming down her face.
“I want to die,” she whispered. “You want to live. Let’s trade.”
1
I never imagined that as a wisp of a ghost, I could still be seen.
Even less did I imagine that the one who could see me would be the long-lost, trueborn daughter of Marquess Croft.
Six months ago, when House Croft was escorting her back to their estate, they passed by my little patch of earth. The carriage stopped beneath the peach tree that had been nourished by my corpse, and a flustered old servant, clutching her stomach, scurried into the bushes to relieve herself.
Someone else stepped out of the carriage. It was Lydia, the daughter they had finally found.
Her small, palm-sized face met my gaze, and it instantly turned a ghastly white.
I hadn’t died prettily.
That bitch, Genevieve, had gouged out my eyes and slashed the face that Emperor Alaric had once worshipped. Even my hands, so skilled with a blade, had been hacked off and thrown into the fishpond in the palace’s back garden.
Now, my skeleton was nailed to this potter’s field, and I was bored to tears. I’d spend my days hanging upside down from a crooked peach tree, swinging like a pendulum.
As a cold gust of wind blew, my blood-soaked head swung down, right in front of Lydia.
Her dark, lustrous eyes widened in terror. My invisible blood dripped, drip by drip, onto her face.
Baring my fangs, I blew a ghostly breath at her.
“Let me get a whiff of that bread of yours, and I’ll let you live.”
2
Her hands trembled as she fumbled for what felt like an eternity before producing two cold, hard buns.
I was profoundly disappointed.
“Are you trying to get rid of a beggar? I want a smell of something good. Like that.”
My long tongue shot out, pointing towards the jerky the grooms and footmen were chewing on nearby.
She followed my gaze, her face flushing with embarrassment. Her lashes, like tiny fans, fluttered down as she spoke in a voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, “I haven’t been formally accepted back into the family yet. House Croft doesn’t support idlers. This is my own food.”
My three-foot-long tongue froze, then slowly retracted.
House Croft was so wealthy that even the scraps they threw to the dogs were finer than the buns in her hands. More than a decade ago, at a royal banquet, I had seen their adopted daughter, draped in gold and jewels like a celestial princess, outshining even the royal children. Back then, the Marchioness would even shed tears in public when mentioning her lost daughter.
“She is my only comfort,” she would say, “saving me from a life of endless sorrow.”
Yet, in just over a decade, she had neglected her own flesh and blood to this state. A child so unloved that no one of importance could even spare the time to escort her home.
As I lay atop the tree, sighing at the cold indifference of the world, Lydia’s heart softened.
“Here!”
She mustered her courage, asked the groom for half a piece of his half-eaten jerky, and held it up, too timid to even lift her head.
“Don’t cry,” she murmured. “I found a way for you.”
I froze, only then realizing that bloody tears were streaming from my empty eye sockets again.
“I wasn’t…”
CRACK!
3
Before I could finish, the old servant’s disciplinary rod whipped through my spectral head and struck Lydia’s hand.
“A lady must learn a lady’s etiquette! House Croft is a noble family of the highest standing. How could you eat scraps offered in pity? A single piece of jerky, and you’ve disgraced the entire House. You are base and vulgar, and you must be punished.”
The jerky fell to the ground, covered in dust.
The footman and groom stepped on it, then stood on either side of the old servant, their arms akimbo, sneering.
“Look at her. Even the scullery maids are more refined. And she’s supposed to be a ‘lady’?”
“If it weren’t for the marriage alliance they need her for, you think anyone would want her back? The Marquess and Marchioness saw her five years ago. Deemed her an illiterate embarrassment and left her there.”
“Putting on airs as a lady. She should look at where she came from. An orphan girl raised cleaning out privies will never wash the stench away.”
Lydia clutched her sleeves, so ashamed she couldn’t lift her head. But the trio only grew more smug, their words a torrent of mockery and humiliation. The constant smack of the old woman’s rod and the snickering of the men were grating on my nerves.
My mind drifted back to the days when I killed.
“Have you ever seen a human pendulum?”
Lydia, her eyes brimming with tears, flinched.
“You’re about to.”
With a flick of my tongue, I coiled it around the old servant and hoisted her into the peach tree. A V-shaped branch clamped around her neck. I blew a puff of spectral air, and she began to swing, back and forth, her feet kicking wildly.
“Faster?” I asked Lydia.
Lydia was stunned speechless. The old woman was choking, on the verge of death. The footman and groom screamed and rushed to help.
I let out a cackle. “Want to see a pinwheel?”
I wrapped them in the branches, sending them spinning violently. They shrieked hysterically, piss and shit flying everywhere, crying for their mothers until their eyes rolled back in their heads.
The little girl, through her fear, began to laugh.
An hour later, the three of them lay unconscious on the ground in a neat, soiled row.
“Looks like they’ve all disgraced themselves now,” I said.
Lydia and I sat together, feasting on the jerky.
“What’s your name?” she asked. “When I get back to the capital, I’ll save up and pay for a ritual to help your soul pass on.”
My name was a burden she couldn’t bear. Besides, my soul couldn’t pass on.
“I’ve been marked by a Soul-Binding Ward. Don’t waste your effort. Besides…”
I didn’t tell her that my soul was on the verge of dissipating completely.
“Just tell them you were attacked by a ghost. Looking like that, they’ll be too scared to say otherwise themselves.”
I swung myself back up into the tree.
“Live well,” I told her. “After all, living is the one thing I want most.”
Living, to send all those bastards to hell.
She stared, a flicker of understanding in her eyes.
“You like the smell of meat. I’ll come see you again. I’ll bring you a whole roasted chicken.”
She swore she’d be back with a roasted chicken, but six months passed, and I saw no sign of her.
4
“I know about the Soul-Binding Ward. To be free, it requires a life for a life. I went to the Grand Cathedral and got a talisman. If you just nod, I will give you my life.”
A clap of thunder illuminated Lydia’s deathly pale face.
She was a ghost of the vibrant girl I’d met six months ago. Collapsed beneath my peach tree, her energy was gone.
“I didn’t forget you. I just… I couldn’t get out. I don’t have the chicken. Please don’t be angry.” Her voice was a wisp of air. “See? Even at death’s door, I was thinking of you.”
She only wanted to die. She could have done it anywhere. But the capital was thirty miles away. She had walked the entire night through mud and rain to get here.
“Who did this to you? The Crofts?”
A grim smile touched her lips, her face streaked with a mixture of rain and tears. In the next instant, a sharp dagger sliced across her wrist.
“It was the world. It was me, for being so foolish and weak. This is my fate.”
Blood gushed from the wound, staining the rain-soaked talisman she clutched to her chest. It flared with a golden light.
“Come here. Come hold me. You’re the only one who ever protected me.” Her voice was a plea. “Oh, right. You don’t have hands. Then… I’ll hold you.”
No matter how I tried to save her, my efforts were futile.
“I want to die, and you want to live. Let’s trade. I’m begging you.”
When a person truly wants to die, no one can save them.
She tore the wound deeper. The rain washed her blood down, a crimson tide that soaked my entire skeleton.
“Living is already so hard,” she sobbed. “Don’t let me die with regrets. At least… if you live, someone will remember me, right?”
Her spirit began to drift from her body, growing fainter and fainter, until only a single, fragile breath remained.
I drew closer.
“What are your wishes?” I whispered. “I’ll fulfill them. All of them.”
She smiled and wrapped her arms around my skeletal frame, burying her face in my chest.
“You have to live a good life,” she murmured. “I’ll be reborn into a better family. It’s a win-win for both of us.”
A win?
Unless I dragged every last one of them down to hell with me, her death would be for nothing.
That night, a forgotten daughter of House Croft died. And in a potter’s field, a demoness was reborn. The peach tree withered overnight. Carrying Lydia’s body, I walked down the mountain.
I knew nothing of the next life, but in this one, I would have my pound of flesh.
5
Before returning to the capital, I paid a visit to the Royal Chapel.
There, an Empress Dowager spent her days in prayer, eating nothing but vegetables, all for the soul of her son. She used to despise me. The time she forced me to kneel, I lost my eight-month-old child.
But now, after I told her the truth about how her son really died, she was more than eager to climb aboard my ship of vengeance and sail with me into a storm of our own making, all the way back to the Crimson Citadel.
With our pact sealed, I returned to House Croft on the very day of the false daughter’s coming-of-age ceremony.
The hall was filled with joyous celebration. Everyone crowded around the fake heiress, Isabelle, showering her with priceless jewels and treasures as if they were common trinkets. They congratulated her on becoming a woman, advising her to be graceful and proper, to secure her bright future. It was a picture of perfect, triumphant bliss.
No one remembered that today was also Lydia’s birthday.
The Marchioness pulled the charming Isabelle into her embrace, a dozen large chests laid out before her. “These are from your grandmother’s dowry. I only received them myself after giving birth to your brother. I’m not giving them to anyone else, only to my precious Isabelle.”
Isabelle pouted, burying her face in her mother’s shoulder with a look of innocent cunning. “I knew Mother loved me best. I love you so, so much, Mother.”
Haris, the heir of House Croft, stepped forward with a gentle smile, presenting his own gift. “Brother may not have family heirlooms, but this five-colored agate was a gift from the Emperor himself. I had to beg Prince Damien for it, so its significance is quite different.”
Prince Damien? The Third Prince. It was him.
Well now, what an unexpected delight.
The Marquess, seated on his high chair, stroked his beard with satisfaction. “And Father’s gift is no less grand. I swallowed my pride and petitioned His Majesty. After you come of age, he will grant a swift betrothal between you and the Third Prince, so my little pearl may have her heart’s desire.”
Isabelle’s eyes lit up, but she still stomped her foot playfully at the Marquess. “Father, you’re embarrassing me! Saying such things in front of everyone! I’m not speaking to you anymore.”
The crowd roared with laughter, their words dripping with saccharine sweetness.
Only my body—Lydia’s body—still carried the phantom pains of her hidden wounds. A cold wind blew, a chill that seeped into my bones, and I shivered involuntarily.
“You know what shame is? I thought you were shameless by nature.”
“Brother, you’re so mean! Mother, scold him for me.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll scold him. Haris, don’t tease your sister. As punishment, you’ll take her shopping tomorrow, and you will pay for everything.”
Haris feigned misery. “Mother, that’s cruel! You know very well my entire allowance is spent on this little glutton.”
Isabelle stuck out her tongue and made a face. “Serves you right! Nya-nya-nya.”
“And what about me?”
My voice cut through the boisterous laughter, a discordant note that silenced the room. I stepped out from the shadows.
“What do I get?”
6
The laughter died instantly. Every face in the room was etched with the displeasure of having their pleasantries interrupted.
Haris shot me a cold glare. “So you decided to come back. I thought you had more pride than that. Couldn’t make it on your own, so you came crawling back, did you?”
He sneered. “Do you have any idea how many days Isabelle couldn’t eat or sleep, worrying about you after you ran away?”
“Running off with a man… you truly have no shame. You’ve brought nothing but disgrace upon this house.”
Isabelle, who had stiffened at the sight of me, quickly masked a flicker of hatred. Biting her lip, her innocent eyes welled with moisture as she tugged on Haris’s sleeve. “Brother, please don’t say that.”
“I’m not angry with sister anymore,” she said, her voice trembling. “Even though she threw me out of the house and I nearly died… I’m grateful for the years of comfort House Croft gave me. I’m content.”
She then turned to me, her expression one of genuine concern. “I’m sure she was led astray. Now that she’s back, she must know her mistake.”
She looked back at our parents. “Sister, you’ve returned. I think… I should give everything that is yours back to you now.”
“But sister,” she added, her tone gentle yet pointed, “you vanished without a word and made Father and Mother worry sick. Don’t forget to apologize to them.”
The Marchioness glared at me, a cold sneer on her lips. “I wouldn’t dare accept it.”
“The last time you ‘apologized’ to Isabelle, you pushed her into the lake.”
“If you apologize to me, who knows? You might just toss my old bones into a ditch next.”
“Besides,” she said, her voice dripping with ice, “I only have one daughter. And that is Isabelle. Don’t you dare try to claim a place that isn’t yours.”
Isabelle blinked her large, innocent eyes at me, a picture of helplessness.
“Sister, just apologize. Please.”
Seeing my impassive stance, the Marquess roared, “Kneel, you insolent whelp! Now!”
7
I didn’t move an inch, but a wave of sorrow and heartache, a phantom pain from Lydia, washed over me. Her soul was gone, yet her body still grieved.
I looked directly at them, giving them one last chance. “Everything she has… shouldn’t I have it too?”
“You dare compare yourself to Isabelle?” Haris snarled. “You’re a country bumpkin with no manners who has repeatedly disgraced this family. If Isabelle hadn’t protected you, you’d have died a thousand times over by now.”
“Ran off with a man? Who told you that?” I asked coolly.
Isabelle, feigning a look of innocent confusion, walked towards me. “Sister, don’t be afraid,” she cooed. “Now that you’re back, your family will take care of everything.”
“That letter… I’ve already destroyed it for you. Just admit your mistake to Father and Mother, and you can still be the eldest daughter of House Croft. We can be a happy family again.”
“Look at your sister! Even now, she’s speaking up for you, and still you’re so ungrateful, trying to frame her again and again! I was wrong to have doted on her so much. Tell me, in what way are you even her equal?” the Marchioness shrieked.
“Your mother is right,” the Marquess grumbled. “If you weren’t my own flesh and blood, I’d have thrown you out on some remote farmstead long ago.”
“Father and Mother are too soft-hearted. A menace like her doesn’t deserve to be a Croft.”
“Please, don’t say that. You’ll hurt her feelings,” Isabelle said softly. She reached out, her hand closing around my arm in a show of sisterly affection. Her eyes darkened, and her sharp nails dug into my skin.
“Isn’t that right… sister?” she hissed.
Hss…
She was poised, ready for me to shove her away in pain so she could collapse dramatically to the ground.
But I didn’t even flinch.
Frozen in place, she bit her lip in frustration and whispered furiously, “You’ve learned a few tricks, haven’t you? You filthy bitch. Why didn’t you just die out there?”
Was this pathetic little scheme all it took to drive Lydia to her death? I almost had to laugh.
“So, the story about me running off with a man… it came from your lips?”
A flicker of contempt crossed her eyes, but her face contorted into a mask of pure victimhood. “Sister, are you blaming me? I didn’t mean to…”
CRACK.
I dislocated her jaw with a flick of my wrist.
“As long as you admit it, that’s all that matters. No need to say more.”
It happened so fast that the others only reacted when she started clutching her jaw, letting out muffled, panicked squeals. In an instant, they swarmed towards me, ready to seize me.
But the nursemaid who led the charge didn’t even get close. A single kick from me shattered her femur, and she collapsed to the floor, screaming in agony.
In the same motion, I had a dagger pressed against the paralyzed Isabelle’s throat.
“Move, and she dies. Try me.”
Perhaps my tone was too calm, making them think I was bluffing. They surged forward again.
SLICE.
With a twist of my wrist, a deep, finger-length gash opened on Isabelle’s cheek, blood pouring down her face.
“Aaaah! It hurts! Father, Mother, Haris, it hurts so much! My face is ruined! My…”
“Scream again.”
She didn’t dare. I sliced off her earlobe with the dagger and ground it under my heel. The arrogant defiance from moments ago vanished, replaced by a mask of pure, shrinking terror.
The others retreated, huddling behind the Marquess. Only then did I turn my attention back to Isabelle’s nursemaid, who was writhing on the floor.
8
“Tell me,” I said, my foot pressing down on her. “Who threw your mistress out of this house, and how did she end up in the lake?”
The woman, sweating profusely from the pain, was still defiant. “Even if you kill me, my lady, I can only speak the truth. It was you! You couldn’t stand the Second Miss, and when you failed to kill her, you drove her out!”
“The Second Miss was nearly abducted by ruffians! She still has the scars on her leg to prove it!”
A stubborn one. Interesting.
I had just lifted my foot when the Marchioness shrieked, “You ungrateful wretch! Have you lost your mind? If it’s gifts you want, I’ll give them to you!”
“But if you dare harm my Isabelle, I will never acknowledge you! I will disown you!”
She was so loud.
Lydia, this must have hurt so much.
SWISH. I tore the earring from Isabelle’s remaining ear and flung it. It struck the Marchioness’s elaborate headdress, sending it tumbling. Her hair fell in disarray around her pale, shocked face, her carefully crafted dignity shattered.
“Next time, I’ll aim for your eyes. They’re useless to you anyway, since you’re blind to the truth.”
The Marchioness collapsed to the ground in terror, silenced. The others, having witnessed my methods, didn’t dare make a move.
9
“I gave you a chance,” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “You didn’t take it. You have no one to blame but yourself.”
The tip of my dagger rested on the nursemaid’s wrist. With a flick, I severed her tendons.
“Still not going to tell the truth?”
She didn’t answer, only screamed.
I rubbed my temples, annoyed by the noise, and then plunged the dagger straight into her side, just deep enough to graze her lung. I even gave the hilt a deliberate twist. It wouldn’t kill her, but the pain would be worse than death. The blood that flowed from the wound was a stark, crimson warning that kept the others frozen in place.
In the years I fought alongside Alaric, I’d spent time in dungeons, perfecting methods of torture to extract information. Using them on a mere house servant felt like overkill.
But methods aren’t about sophistication. They’re about results.
Sure enough, after just two stabs, the nursemaid pissed herself in agony.
Just as she was about to speak, Haris cried out, “What do you want? We’ll give it to you!”
“Do you want Isabelle’s chambers? Formal recognition? The betrothal to the Third Prince?”
“Just put down the dagger, and we can talk. Don’t take a life, or even I won’t be able to help you.”
His incessant babbling was interrupting my interrogation. A flame of rage ignited within me.
“You. Come here. I’ll tell you what I want.”
He hesitated, but after a tearful glance from Isabelle, he approached.
“You…”
Before he could draw the knife hidden behind his back, I seized him by the throat. A dozen slaps rained down on his face with sharp, cracking sounds. I slammed him to the ground, where he spat out a mouthful of blood and teeth before passing out, the hidden dagger clattering beside him.
“You talk too much, you worthless fool.”
The Marquess met my smiling eyes, his body trembling with rage, but for the sake of his children, he swallowed his pride. Gritting his teeth, he commanded, “Do as she says! No one moves!”
I gave him a satisfied smirk and turned back to the nursemaid, patting her cheek with the cold blade.
“Ready to talk?”
She was no longer defiant. The truth spilled out of her like beans from a sack, a full account of the abuse and persecution Lydia had suffered.
10
The country girl who had returned home was never welcomed by her family. On her first day back, she made the false daughter cry and was locked away in the smallest courtyard to “learn her manners.”
Later, she was accused of breaking the false daughter’s imperial gift, of setting fire to her own courtyard in a fit of pique, and even of pushing the false daughter into a lake out of jealousy over the Third Prince’s affections.
Finally, using her status as the “trueborn daughter,” she was said to have driven the false one from the house. If House Croft hadn’t found her in time, Isabelle would have been “ruined by bandits.” A single, fingernail-sized scar on her leg was enough for the entire family to cast the true daughter out to “teach her a lesson.”
And then, she supposedly ran off with a lover in a fit of anger.
“It was all the Second Miss… no, it was all Isabelle’s command,” the nursemaid blubbered.
“She couldn’t stand being second to the trueborn daughter, so she wanted Lady Lydia dead.”
“From the very beginning, it was all the Second Miss’s scheme. Lady Lydia never did a single wicked thing.”
“When Lady Lydia was locked in the ancestral hall, the Second Miss offered to bring her meals, but she never brought a single one. For a whole month, Lady Lydia survived on the servants’ leftover soup.”
“The birthday gift Lady Lydia prepared for the Marchioness was a safety pouch she embroidered herself, stitch by stitch. Not that lump of dirt the Second Miss swapped it with.”
“The Marquis’s cold medicine was also brewed by Lady Lydia, who watched the stove all night. But she was stopped at the study door, and the Second Miss added laxatives to it, framing her.”
“Lady Lydia truly only glanced at the heir’s painting; she never touched it. It was the Second Miss who used her free access to the study to destroy it herself.”
Confined, forced to kneel, beaten, and finally cast out to fend for herself. Lydia had endured so much in her own home. She had returned full of hope, seeking the love she had never known, only to find it had been given to another. Her own flesh and blood, the people who should have loved and protected her, gave her nothing but hatred and malice.
Betrayed, despised, and persecuted by her own family. How helpless she must have felt.
I sighed and continued. “And what about the elopement?”
The nursemaid trembled. “Lady Lydia never eloped. After the Marquis and Marchioness threw her out because of the Second Miss’s ‘disappearance’—to teach her how hard life was for a woman without family protection—the Second Miss had already hired bandits to rape and murder her on the outskirts of the capital.”
“As for the letter, it was written by Iris, the handmaiden. She’s skilled at forgery.”
My cold gaze scanned the crowd and locked onto Iris. She began to tremble with fear. Before my blade was even raised, she fell to her knees, corroborating every word the nursemaid had said and adding many more details.
Finally, she kowtowed, banging her head on the floor. “The Second Miss forced me! We’re just servants, how could we refuse? Please, my lady, spare me! Spare my life!”
You see? When you’re the one holding the blade, everyone bows to you.
Lydia, my dear, all you were missing was a knife.
Isabelle’s guilt was undeniable.
“Take Isabelle away,” I commanded. “And give her the full treatment.”
“Who dares!”
11
The footman I had deliberately allowed to escape returned, bringing with him a furious Third Prince, Damien.
What can I say? He lacked Alaric’s cunning. He didn’t even inherit a third of his mother’s looks. As a child, he had a certain charm, but now, every inch of him was detestable.
“You have the audacity to look at me? Lydia, you are utterly depraved.”
Cradling the broken Isabelle, and surrounded by his guards, he began to rant. “Grievously wounding a court official’s daughter and my fiancée… Lydia, you must be mad. You’re begging to die.”
“Men! Seize this wicked wretch and deliver her to the High Court for severe punishment!”
“Oh? Seizing their daughter in their own home? Have you asked for their permission?” I asked, a hint of amusement in my voice.
Even after learning the truth, even after knowing all the suffering Lydia had endured, the entire Croft family remained silent as the Third Prince condemned their own pathetic daughter and sister.
A daughter’s suffering was nothing compared to the family’s wealth and future.
Oh, Lydia. They aren’t worth it.
I had given them their chance. Now, they would reap what they had sown.
The prince smirked, his arrogance a mirror of someone I once knew. “If I say you are not a Croft, who here would dare say otherwise?”
The Marquess lowered his eyes, feigning indifference. The Marchioness’s lips moved, but no sound came out. Only Haris, battered and bruised, spat out venomously, “Kill her! I only have one sister, and that is Isabelle.”
The prince shot me a look that said, See? No one will protect you, and looked down his nose at me. “Did you think that by harming Isabelle, you could marry me? Dream on.”
“Now that the Crofts have disowned you, I will make you suffer a fate worse than death to atone for what you did to Isabelle. If you know what’s good for you, kill yourself here and now, in front of her. If you do, I might grant you the mercy of a complete corpse.”
I took a sharp breath. “So, Your Highness, in your quest to be a white knight, you would ignore the truth and condemn me to death, in defiance of the law?”
He scoffed. “What scheme? Isabelle never schemed against you. There was only you, running rampant through the house like a madwoman, killing at will.”
“Isabelle was merely trying to stop your frenzy when you disfigured her. Lord Croft tried to reason with you, and you knocked his teeth out for his troubles. That is the only truth.”
That he could twist the truth so blatantly in public was all the confirmation I needed.
Seeing my strange smile, he waved his hand dismissively. “Men, take her to the High Court. Tell the Chief Justice to follow my version of events, and to interrogate her… harshly.”
“I’m afraid, Your Highness, that I am unable to comply.”
The Chief Justice of the High Court stepped out from the shadows.
But he was on my side.
I smiled, a smile as cold as the grave. “My apologies. I’m here on imperial orders to investigate a crime. As for everyone present who conspired to twist the truth and have me killed… you are all under arrest. Take them to the dungeons.”
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