Category: English

My sister-in-law, Lydia, was diagnosed with a rare triple womb, sending our entire family into a frenzy of joyous celebration. My mother, delighted beyond words, exclaimed, “Three wombs? Perfect! She can deliver three strapping grandsons for me in one go!” I urged Lydia to seek a second opinion from a specialist at a major hospital. The specialist’s diagnosis was chilling: severe fetal deformities. A termination was imperative to save her life. But after Lydia recovered, she was unable to conceive again. She and my mother blamed me. “What triple womb? I say it’s just your own barren jealousy, because you can’t bear children, and you envied my miraculous triple blessing.” “The Vance family legacy is severed by your hand! How dare you still draw breath?!” My mother and Lydia, in a sickening alliance, smothered me with pillows until I stopped breathing. Then, my eyes snapped open. I was back. Back to the very day I suggested Lydia seek a second opinion at the hospital… 1. “SLAP!” The moment my eyes opened, a stinging slap sent stars dancing across my vision. My mother, her face a mask of fury, jabbed a finger at me. “Clara Vance, you wretched girl! You insisted your sister-in-law’s triple womb would lead to deformities, urging her to visit some ominous clinic for a check-up! I say you’re utterly superfluous—a pointless waste of breath!” “When I carried your brother and you, I never once saw a physician, and you both turned out perfectly healthy!” she ranted. “I swear your intentions are malicious! You want the clinic’s ill fortune to curse away my precious grandsons…” My cheek burned, but as I listened to Mother’s soul-crushing accusations, the truth slammed into me: I had been reborn. Back to the very day I suggested Lydia get a second opinion. My entire past life’s tragedy had begun on this exact day. I would not repeat that nightmare. Swallowing the inferno of rage in my chest, I covered my stinging face, forcing a placating smile. “Mother, if you don’t want to go, then we won’t. Why get so upset? You’ll only harm yourself. I merely made a suggestion; whether to go or not is entirely your decision.” Lydia, hovering nearby, fanned the flames. “Now you’re worried about upsetting Mother? I say it’s just your own infertility, your burning envy that I’m carrying triplets. You, my dear sister-in-law, are nothing but a black-hearted wretch.” As expected, Mother’s dwindling anger flared anew. Her hand shot up, ready to strike me again. I knew Lydia’s nature. Unless I showed her some ‘blood’ today, this would never end. I feigned protest, truly surrendering. “Lydia, how can you say such a thing about me? Alright, then. To prove I’m not a black-hearted sister-in-law, I’ll transfer two thousand credits to you for the nephews’ nutritional expenses.” The words barely left my lips before I swiftly transferred two thousand credits to Lydia via my comm-device. Compared to my life, two thousand credits were a paltry sum. Lydia instantly accepted, her face blooming into a wide grin. “Oh, look at me, chattering nonsense! Our dear sister-in-law is certainly not black-hearted. You care for your nephews the most! From now on, their food, drink, and everything else will depend entirely on you.” Mother lowered her arm, nodding vigorously. “You’re about to be an aunt! You’ll need to spend generously on your nephews.” My sole desire was to put this behind me. Without another word, I just nodded and smiled, finding an excuse to leave. Stepping out the door, I overheard Lydia calling my brother, Marcus. She was excitedly planning a seafood lunch, mentioning rare Comb-Claw Crabs and Obsidian Dragon-Lobsters, and craving Black Ink Broth. Marcus asked if she’d won the lottery. She replied, “No, I just fleeced your soft-hearted sister.” Marcus roared with laughter on the other end, praising her cleverness and efficiency, and not forgetting to add two bowls of Sea Cucumber Porridge to the order. Truly, my wonderful brother and sister-in-law! In my previous life, even after that slap, I had insisted on taking Lydia to the hospital for a check-up. I promised that if Mother agreed, I would cover all of Lydia’s pregnancy expenses. That’s what finally made Mother relent and Lydia’s heart waver. At the hospital, the specialist’s diagnosis was a rare triple womb. “This is a severe uterine malformation. You cannot sustain a pregnancy to term. Even if you conceive, you won’t be able to deliver, and it will endanger your life. You must undergo surgery immediately to save yourself.” Lydia was terrified, trembling. “Then… can it be done today?” The specialist, intrigued by such a rare case, made an exception and scheduled the termination for her. But who knew? When she recovered and returned home, she shifted all the blame onto me. “Mother, it was all Clara! She can’t conceive herself, and she was jealous I was carrying three, so she dragged me into that operating room! How could I, a pregnant woman, fight her?” “Oh, my poor sons, boo hoo hoo… The doctor said this termination has damaged my womb, and I may never conceive again.” Mother, hearing this, went utterly insane. Her eyes blazing, she lunged at me, grabbing a pillow and pressing it over my mouth. “A triple womb, so many would kill for! You insisted it would lead to deformities! I say you’re the deformity! I’ll smother you to death, you abomination!” “The Vance family legacy is severed by your hand! How dare you still draw breath?!” Lydia also helped press down the pillow. “What uterine malformation? It’s just your own barren jealousy, because you can’t bear children, and you envied my miraculous triple blessing.” Together, the mother and daughter-in-law smothered me until I drew my last breath. This time, I wouldn’t meddle in my birth family’s affairs. I would watch with cold detachment. Let’s see if Lydia’s triple womb can truly produce the heirs the Vance family so desperately craves. 2. That evening, just as I was about to go to bed, Mother’s call came through. The moment I answered, her voice lashed out, raining curses upon me. “You wretched girl! What are your true intentions? You transfer money to your sister-in-law, letting her gorge herself on luxuries, and now she has a stomachache! Tomorrow, you’ll buy her some bird’s nest and shark fin to nourish her!” I couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. Bird’s nest and shark fin cure all ailments? In plain terms, it was just another excuse to bleed me dry. My husband, Liam, drying his hair, chimed in. “Darling, why don’t I arrange for some bird’s nest and shark fin tomorrow? You can deliver it to your sister-in-law.” Looking at my considerate, understanding husband, I felt a pang of tears. In my previous life, after my death, Liam never remarried. He even often sent aid to my birth family, giving over half of his salary to Mother. But she still complained it wasn’t enough. Ultimately, to seize our home, she had Liam killed. Remembering Liam’s fate in my previous life, I shook my head. “No need. I’ll buy it myself.” The next day, I barely stepped through the door, gift box in hand, when Mother’s feather duster swished towards me. “You cursed wretch! A pregnant woman like your sister-in-law, going to a hospital, a place of death and ill-omen?! Have you no fear? Are you trying to destroy the Vance family legacy?!” I blocked Mother’s duster with the bird’s nest box. “Mother, look closely! This is bird’s nest. If you break it, Lydia won’t be able to get her nourishment.” From the bedroom, where she was secretly watching the commotion, Lydia heard this and immediately began to wail loudly. “Ow, ow, my stomach hurts so much! My three sons must not be getting enough nutrients; they must be craving bird’s nest!” Mother, hearing this, immediately dropped the duster, snatched the bird’s nest, and rushed to the kitchen. “Lydia, bear with it! Mother will stew the bird’s nest for you right away. My three precious grandsons must not suffer!” I handed the shark fin gift box to Lydia. Her complexion was rosy, her spirits high, not a single sign of illness on her face. Marcus emerged from the bedroom, yawning. He glanced at me, frowning in displeasure. “Clara, did you forget to buy me tea this time?” I feigned a placating smile. “I was so preoccupied with Lydia! Next time, I’ll buy you two extra boxes as an apology!” After all, today’s bird’s nest and shark fin were bought from a bargain bin online store for a paltry sum. In the future, Marcus’s tea could also be purchased from a cheap online store. It shouldn’t cost much. Lydia suddenly clutched her stomach. “Husband, it hurts so much.” Marcus quickly asked, “Why does it hurt again?” Lydia, with a straight face, replied, “Probably not enough nutrients. The boys want some premium crab.” I reminded her, “Lydia, pregnant women should limit their intake of rich, high-fat foods.” Lydia ignored me, simply clutching her stomach and wailing about the pain. Marcus quickly said, “Eat what you want! No restrictions!” He then told me to go buy the crabs. Lydia, clutching her stomach, told me to buy a lot, at least ten pounds. Mother, in the kitchen, pretended to be deaf. Compared to my tragic end in the previous life, their petty schemes were child’s play to me. Since they were so eager to dig their own graves, I would gladly lend them a shovel. As I stepped out the door, Lydia’s triumphant voice floated from behind me. “Husband, aren’t I clever? Yesterday, the premium crab was too expensive for you, but today, your sister can buy it for us. What a brilliant wife you are! Ten pounds should last us two days.” 3. After successfully fleecing me twice, Lydia became even more brazen. Every few days, she’d complain of weakness or pain. Mother doted on her, as if she were a goddess, indulging her every whim. Anything Lydia herself was too stingy to buy, she’d have Mother call me for. Marcus even occasionally sent me videos of Lydia’s bulging belly, bragging about his “sons” who were destined to inherit a fortune. In the videos, Lydia’s stomach was enormous, like a balloon inflated to its maximum. But based on her gestation, she should only have been four months along! I couldn’t resist reminding Marcus. “Lydia’s belly is alarmingly large. Perhaps she should see a specialist?” Marcus immediately exploded. “Clara Vance, what are your true intentions? With three sons inside, how could her belly not be big? I say it’s just your own inability to conceive, and your jealousy of Lydia’s triple blessing!” Mother, stamping her foot, chimed in. “A big belly means my grandsons are growing well! If you dare mention sending your sister-in-law to a clinic again, to bring ill fortune, I’ll rip your tongue out!” Lydia, enjoying her current life of endless indulgence, also told me to mind my own business. Even the Grim Reaper can’t stop someone determined to hasten their own demise. I stopped advising them. When Lydia was five months pregnant, Mother called me in the middle of the night, weeping, claiming Lydia was threatening to jump from a window and begging me to rush back and help talk her down. I drove home to find Lydia standing by the window, a roasted drumstick in one hand, a can of soda in the other, eating and drinking. Seeing me push open the door, she tossed her food, feigned a jump, and wailed theatrically, “I can’t bear this life any longer. I might as well die…” One look at her, and I knew she was up to her old tricks, plotting against me again. But what disturbed me more was her belly. What kind of monstrosity was she carrying?! Her stomach was grotesquely distended, forming three balloon-like lobes, her skin stretched thin and almost translucent. It wobbled from side to side with her movements, like a child’s sloshing toy, and I could hear liquid gurgling within. Seeing me silently staring at Lydia’s belly, Mother delivered a sharp slap to the back of my head. “Don’t pretend to be deaf and dumb! Hurry and talk some sense into your sister-in-law!” I tore my gaze away and asked directly, “What do you want this time?” Marcus rubbed his nose, a sheepish grin on his face. “It’s nothing major, really. Just wanted to discuss the matter of your three nephews’ properties.” “My three nephews’ properties?” I feigned confusion. Mother cut Marcus off, earnestly advising me. “Your sister-in-law is carrying triplets, and they’re all boys! Don’t they each deserve their own house? Your father’s and mine, plus your brother’s and Lydia’s, and then yours—that makes exactly three! When do you have time to transfer your property into Lydia’s name, so she can rest easy during her pregnancy?” “In the future, your nephews will remember your kindness and take care of you in your old age!” “Sister, Lydia is carrying the future of the Vance lineage in her belly. There can be no mistakes! You mustn’t falter now, or you’ll be a sinner against our family!” Lydia pointed to her belly, utterly confident in her leverage. “Clara Vance, if you don’t agree, I’ll jump right now, and you’ll watch!” I almost laughed with rage. In both this life and the last, they coveted my home. Remembering how, in my previous life, they had murdered my husband for it, I knew that if I refused today, they might plot something sinister against Liam and me. “I have no objection to transferring the house to Lydia. After all, I don’t plan on having children, so it will all go to my nephews anyway.” Mother and the others beamed, praising my understanding and sensibility. I sneered inwardly, my face betraying nothing. “It’s just that the house is shared marital property. I’ll need to discuss it with Liam. Rest assured, I’ll work on him. The house will definitely go to my nephews.” My words were perfectly reasonable, even Marcus nodded in agreement. “Right, right. You do a good job convincing your brother-in-law. We need to keep our wealth in the family.” Lydia, slightly displeased I hadn’t immediately agreed, continued to demand more. “Clara, when your three nephews are born, you mustn’t be stingy.” “You’ll need to give each of your nephews a gift of at least sixty-six thousand credits, won’t you?” I almost rolled my eyes. But I readily agreed. “Fine!” As long as you can actually deliver them.

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On my way to St. Alaric’s Abbey for thanksgiving prayers, we were ambushed by brigands. Seraphina, my husband’s childhood companion, shoved me from the carriage. I fell, gravely injured, and the life stirring within my womb began to ebb away, a crimson stain spreading. My husband, Alaric, arrived with his knights. He swept the blood-streaked Seraphina into his arms, then cast a look of utter contempt at me, sprawled in the dirt. “Isabelle, did you orchestrate this whole ordeal to harm Seraphina? You knew her heart is frail, easily startled. You venomous shrew!” He galloped away, cradling his precious Seraphina, leaving me to bleed out on the muddy path outside the city walls. When I next opened my eyes, the faint shouts of the brigands echoed outside the carriage. Seraphina’s hand, cold and decisive, shoved me from the carriage once more. 1. I instinctively curled, shielding my belly, as I tumbled into the roadside thicket, striving to minimize the impact on my body. Seraphina, eyeing the approaching brigands, shrieked melodramatically, “Duchess! Run, quick!” The brigands’ eyes gleamed. “The Duchess is this way!” They lunged towards me. I raised my arm, firing a volley of poisoned darts from the concealed wrist-mounted crossbow hidden in my sleeve. Several of the attackers crumpled, silenced. This road was frequented by noble ladies making their pilgrimage. It baffled me how these brigands dared to waylay travelers here. I kept my wrist-crossbow aimed, counting the seconds. It was almost time. In my previous life, shortly after my death, the person who would pass this way was Princess Rosalind, the King’s own sister, returning from the Arcadian Vale. Sure enough, a lavish carriage rounded the bend. The brigands waved their arms. “Forget this hag! There’s another carriage! Charge!” Chaos erupted. I peered at the carriage and saw a face revealed as the curtain fluttered open. My heart soared – it was indeed Princess Rosalind. The instant the brigands surged forward, swords raised, I lunged, throwing myself between the Princess and the incoming blade. The cold steel bit into my back, a searing pain, but I had shielded her. My throat burned, a sweet, metallic taste filling my mouth. The thunder of hooves roared in my ears, followed by Princess Rosalind’s indignant cry: “Audacious scoundrels! I am Princess Rosalind! How dare you lay a hand upon me?” I only lost consciousness for a few fleeting breaths before snapping back to awareness. Seraphina was rushing towards me. “Sister Isabelle, are you alright? You terrified Seraphina!” The gash on my back was bleeding freely, and Seraphina’s rough embrace knocked against it, intensifying the flow. Princess Rosalind steadied me. “Are you well? Thank you for saving me.” The clash of steel echoed, signaling the arrival of knights. I knew, without a doubt, it was Alaric. Indeed, Seraphina spotted Alaric riding towards us from afar and stumbled towards him. “Brother Alaric, help me!” Clutching my abdomen, I whispered, “My belly… it pains me so, Princess. Please, save my child.” Princess Rosalind’s expression tightened. “You are with child? And you still risked your life to save me? Rest assured, I will save you. Your life-saving deed will be repaid.” “It was my own recklessness, running ahead and leaving my guards behind. Else, we wouldn’t be in such peril. Do not fear; they will catch up soon. My retinue includes a skilled healer.” With that, she tore a strip from her gown and bound my wound, but the fabric quickly soaked through with blood. In the distance, Seraphina melted into Alaric’s embrace. “Brother Alaric, thank the Heavens you came. Otherwise, Seraphina would never have seen you again.” 2. That towering, formidable figure in the distance was my husband, Duke Alaric Blackwood. He swept the stumbling Seraphina into his arms, his gaze filled with tender concern for the bloodstains on her face. Then, he strode towards me, where I leaned, pale and weak, against a tree. His eyes burned with undisguised revulsion. “Isabelle, did you painstakingly bring Seraphina up this mountain to the Abbey just to harm her? You knew her heart is frail, easily startled. You venomous shrew!” The last vestige of color drained from my face. “My Lord, Seraphina insisted on accompanying me to the Abbey today. I had no idea we would encounter brigands.” “Besides, Seraphina is unharmed. My Lord, the Blackwood healing draught… please, just a single dose! I beg you.” My voice was barely a whisper, my breath growing shallow. Alaric sneered. “The Blackwood healing draughts are for the knights on the battlefield, not for a frivolous woman like you to squander. Do you know a single vial is worth a hundred gold pieces? Are you feigning such distress just to waste it? Do you realize one draught can save a life on the battlefield, not be wasted by you?” Princess Rosalind lifted her chin, her eyes blazing with indignation. “Are you Duke Alaric Blackwood? This is your wife, gravely wounded from saving a life. Do you truly quibble over the cost of a potion? Is your heart made of stone?” Alaric regarded her with disdain. “And who might you be? What business is it of yours, matters between my wife and I? Isabelle, you truly have a talent for theatrics, putting on such a grand performance by the roadside and even recruiting an accomplice.” Princess Rosalind rose to her full height. “How much is your potion worth? I shall purchase it myself.” Alaric’s cold gaze swept over me, then back to the Princess. “You’ll purchase it? What grand words. Are you and Isabelle friends? Then you must be cut from the same cloth, all deceit and lies. Our family’s draughts, we’d sooner feed to cats and dogs than give to her. Disabuse yourselves of that notion.” I clutched my belly, cold sweat prickling my skin as I looked at him. “My Lord, even if you refuse to save me, please save the child in my womb. He is your own flesh and blood.” I had been pregnant, but hadn’t had the chance to tell him yet. I’d planned to wait until his return from the borders after his rotation. I never imagined such a calamity. Alaric’s face shifted at my words. “What child?” He was about to demand an explanation when Seraphina, with a dramatic gasp, collapsed into his arms, clutching her chest. “Brother Alaric, my heart… it aches so! Am I… am I dying?” “When the brigands came, Sister Isabelle was so frightened, she pushed me from the carriage! I think I hit something; I’m in pain all over.” Seraphina spun her fabrications, twisting the truth. I glared at her, my eyes burning with fury. “When did I ever push you? It was you who shoved me from the carriage, leaving me covered in wounds!” Seraphina dabbed at her eyes, looking only at Alaric. “Sister Isabelle, how can you twist the truth so? Brother Alaric, Sister Isabelle didn’t mean to. Don’t blame her. Perhaps she simply dislikes me staying at the Manor and, in a moment of distress, pushed me.” “But, Sister Isabelle, do you know this is a cliff? I could have fallen into the abyss, my body lost forever! If you dislike me, you could have simply told me. I would have left you alone. Why would you try to take my life?” Alaric glared at me. “Isabelle, how could you be so vicious? Taking such a cruel hand against Seraphina when I was not present, you madwoman!” I shook my head. “You believe her. No matter what I say, you will no longer believe me. More words are useless.” I felt the blood from my back flowing faster. I gripped Princess Rosalind’s hand. “Princess, could you take me to the nearest healer in Valoria? I fear my child will be lost if we delay any longer.” Princess Rosalind nodded. “Yes, I will take you to Valoria immediately.” She began to help me onto her carriage. 3. “Hold!” Alaric stepped in front of us, blocking our way. Suppressing his rage, he pointed his knight’s sword at me. “I know you’ve always disliked Seraphina, but I never imagined you’d be cruel enough to try and end her life. You will kneel here, now, and apologize to her. If she forgives you, you may enter Valoria. If she does not, you will remain kneeling until she does.” I stared at him, incredulous. “You don’t believe me? For Seraphina’s word alone, you would abandon your own child?” Seraphina, frail and delicate, leaned against Alaric. “Sister Isabelle, if you apologize, I will forgive you. But why would you rather lie than admit your mistake? And why would you use a pregnancy to deceive Brother Alaric? Is it merely a coincidence that you are suddenly with child?” “The healers said you struggled to conceive. How could you suddenly be pregnant? If you don’t wish to apologize, simply say so. There’s no need to lie to Brother Alaric; he detests deceit above all else.” Alaric’s face contorted with disgust as he looked at me. “After years of marriage, you’ve never conceived. Yet now, suddenly, you claim to be with child. Do you expect me to believe that? You will apologize to Seraphina, immediately.” Why I struggled to conceive, others might not know, but Alaric knew perfectly well. In the second year of our marriage, I conceived. Yet, due to his arrogance, he suffered a humiliating defeat in battle and then dared to contradict the King, incurring royal displeasure. For his sake, I knelt in the biting snow before the Queen, pleading for clemency. I remained there for a day and a night. I lost the child, and my body was left weakened. The healers said I might never fully recover, and that future pregnancies would be difficult. My health was shattered because of him, yet he, the ungrateful wretch, dared to utter such words. I felt a gush of warmth from my lower abdomen. The color drained from my face, leaving it as stark and white as parchment. Alaric’s personal knight whispered to him, “My Lord, the Duchess truly appears gravely wounded. Something seems amiss. Perhaps we should allow her to see a healer first.” Alaric scoffed. “Has she not feigned illness enough times before? Such tricks, she’s well-practiced. Rest assured, she won’t die.” My heart turned to ash. Even his own men could see I was dying, yet his heart remained as cold as iron. The knights behind him grumbled. “She’s constantly jealous of Lady Seraphina. How can she possibly fulfill the duties of a Duchess? If it were anyone else, she’d have been cast out long ago.” “Indeed! Lady Seraphina is so gentle, so kind to the Duke. Not like the Duchess, always putting on airs.” “Failure to produce an heir is a grave offense. The Duchess has been married for years and hasn’t borne a single child. The Duke should have brought Lady Seraphina into the Manor years ago!” Seraphina’s lips curved into a triumphant smile, her eyes filled with defiant challenge as she looked at me. My head swam, growing dizzier by the moment. Princess Rosalind exerted all her strength to help me stand. My blood stained the tree trunk, yet Alaric, blinded by rage, drew his sword and cleaved the carriage wheel. “I told you, Isabelle. If you do not kneel here today and apologize to Seraphina, I will not permit you to leave.” Princess Rosalind was furious. “Audacious fool! Do you know who I am? Do you dare lay a hand on me?” Alaric lifted his chin defiantly. “I care not who you are. Today, whoever protects this venomous witch stands against me, the Duke of Blackwood.” Princess Rosalind’s face flushed with royal indignation. She produced a meticulously carved crest pendant. “I am Princess Rosalind. Duke Alaric Blackwood, I command you, now, to immediately escort us to Valoria to seek medical aid. There shall be no delay.” Seraphina let out a delicate giggle, covering her mouth with her hand. She darted forward and snatched the crest pendant. “You are a Princess? A Princess who traveled to Valoria with only two guards? And was almost killed by brigands? Truly, if you’re going to lie for Sister Isabelle, at least invent a believable story. This crest… did you perhaps buy it for a few shillings from a street vendor in Valoria?” 4. With that, she flung the crest pendant to the ground and stomped on it viciously several times. Then, clutching her chest again, she whimpered, “Brother Alaric, my heart hurts so badly! Please, take me to a healer. I can barely breathe.” She collapsed weakly into his arms. Alaric scooped her up and mounted his steed. Turning, he commanded his knights, “Isabelle, if anything happens to Seraphina, I swear you will pay with your life. Destroy their carriage. If they wish to reach Valoria, they may walk.” With that, he galloped off, Seraphina clutched in his arms. Alaric’s knights looked at me, torn. “Forgive us, Duchess.” They severed the horses’ reins, drove the steeds away, and then smashed the carriage to splinters before riding off in pursuit of Alaric. My body grew colder and colder. The snow began to fall, heavier now. Barely clinging to life, I whispered, “Princess, you must go. Follow this path; it leads directly to Valoria. Do not mind me; you cannot carry me. If I die, Princess, remember this: do not let me be buried at Blackwood Manor. Even in death, I wish for an annulment from Alaric.” Tears streamed down Princess Rosalind’s face. “Hold on, just a little longer! My knights will be here any moment!” I felt a profound chill, a deep, pervasive cold, until my vision blurred, and I knew nothing more. When I awoke, I was lying in a warm chamber. Princess Rosalind stood over me, her face flushed with fury. “What? All the Royal Physicians have been summoned to Blackwood Manor? Not a single one allowed to leave? Does the Duke of Blackwood command such authority? To summon all the King’s healers for a woman who doesn’t even have a title?” “Fine, fine. Today, my eyes have truly been opened.” “Guards! Follow me! We’ll march to Blackwood Manor. I will personally go there to summon the Royal Physicians. I want to see how he dares to refuse me access to them.” At Blackwood Manor, Seraphina lay in Alaric’s arms, rubbing her chest. “My Lord, perhaps you should go and see Sister Isabelle. I fear for her. I truly am alright; my heart ailment is an old complaint. It hurts, but it won’t kill me. You needn’t worry about me.” “She is, after all, your lawful wife. I am nameless, nothing. Do not concern yourself with me anymore. I do not wish for people to speak ill of you.” Alaric held her tighter. “Nonsense. I have summoned all the Royal Physicians on duty. They will surely heal you.” “With me here, who would dare speak ill?” Just then, Princess Rosalind’s cries reached the Manor gates. “Smash the gates open!” She stormed into the Manor. Alaric, startled by the commotion, stared at her. “Who are you, daring to trespass into Blackwood Manor?” Seraphina looked at the Princess, then gripped Alaric tightly. “Brother Alaric, she’s so fierce. Did Sister Isabelle send her to cause trouble?” Alaric stood up. “Guards! Remove this madwoman! If she resists, beat her out!” “Yes, My Lord!” The Manor guards surrounded them. The Princess’s knights drew their swords. “Bold! Do you not kneel before a Princess?” The Royal Physicians, seeing Princess Rosalind, immediately panicked. They dropped to their knees, bowing deeply. “Your Royal Highness, Princess Rosalind, we salute you.” Alaric and Seraphina were stunned. “Princess Rosalind?” Princess Rosalind looked at him. “Duke of Blackwood, what a grand display of power. Summoning all the Royal Physicians to your Manor, while your own Duchess could not procure a single one to save her life.” “I haven’t returned to Valoria in years, and I find that a Duke now wields such authority, even disrespecting a Princess. I shall go to the King, my brother, and have a thorough discussion with him.” Alaric’s face turned ashen. Just then, one of the Princess’s personal attendants rushed in. “Your Royal Highness, a grave situation! The Duchess of Blackwood is bleeding profusely. The child cannot be saved, and her injuries are severe. Her life hangs by a thread!” The Princess’s face paled. She called to the Royal Physicians. “Quickly, save her! The Duke’s reckoning can wait for another day.” Princess Rosalind rushed back to her Pavilion, Alaric trailing closely behind. Upon entering, he heard the Princess’s elderly governess shaking her head, carrying a basin of bloody water. “The Duchess’s child could not be saved. It was a male child.” Alaric recoiled, staring at the governess in disbelief. “What child? What nonsense are you speaking?” A maid shrieked from within. “Healers! Help! The Duchess is bleeding out! She’s dying!”

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After spending eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars in betrothal payments, I turned myself in for marriage fraud. But then, my housekeeper’s daughter panicked. On May 5th, Sterling Holdings and Blackwood Enterprises were set to unite through a commercial marriage. Yet, I, the supposed bride, was locked in a dark room. By the time I finally found a way to reach the wedding venue, the housekeeper’s daughter had already used my identity to conclude the ceremony. I stormed onto the stage, declaring I was the true Sterling heiress, only to be met with skepticism from every employee of Sterling Holdings. All because Clara Hayes, the housekeeper’s daughter, had been parading around the company as me for half a year. Clara shoved me to the ground. “What are you, the housekeeper’s daughter, doing here, making a scene?” Before I could produce any proof, Clara’s hired security guards dragged me out and threw me onto the street. A car sped by, and I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day before the wedding. … “I’m getting married tomorrow, everyone! Please come, no need for gifts, just come and celebrate with us!” My heart lurched as I saw Clara Hayes’s message in the company chat. I couldn’t believe it—I had reborn to the day before Clara used my identity to marry into a powerful family. “So the rumors about Sterling Holdings and Blackwood Enterprises uniting are true!” “We’re so lucky to witness a high-society wedding! The young Miss and the Blackwood CEO must be a perfect match!” The company chat buzzed with congratulations. Perhaps realizing I had only just joined the group yesterday, Clara quickly added, “It’s not a commercial alliance at all. It’s just my childhood friend, who’s like a brother.” But Clara’s clarification only made the chat explode further. “I’m obsessed! High-society romance is even sweeter than we imagined!” My palm, tightly gripping my phone, began to sweat. I was about to ask directly in the chat who she was marrying tomorrow when a knock sounded at my door. Clara walked in, a look of apology on her face. “Elara, I’m getting married tomorrow too, so I’m so sorry I can’t attend your wedding.” She looked around the opulent master suite. “May I get ready here, at this villa, for my wedding tomorrow?” In my previous life, Clara had said the exact same words. Clara had lived with her mother at my family’s estate since childhood; she had no home of her own. We grew up together, and I truly considered her my younger sister. I not only let her wear my clothes, but I also personally arranged for her to join Sterling Holdings. So, when she said she was getting married on the same day as me, I didn’t suspect a thing. Instead, I looked at her with envy, wishing her well, hoping she was marrying for love. I not only agreed to let her depart from my family’s villa but also found a golden hairpin from the dowry my mother had prepared for me, giving it to her as a wedding gift! But I never imagined Clara’s greed. Her so-called wedding was a calculated deception: taking advantage of my older brother, the CEO, being away on a business trip, she impersonated me and married directly into the Blackwood family. Because I wasn’t thrilled about the arranged marriage, the Sterling-Blackwood wedding was kept low-key. I hadn’t invited any relatives, which gave Clara the perfect loophole. When I rushed to the wedding venue, they had already completed the ceremony. I desperately tried to prove I was the true Sterling heiress, but to my shock, every employee of Sterling Holdings recognized only Clara. Clara looked at me with feigned sorrow, her voice trembling with accusation. “Elara, even though you’re the housekeeper’s daughter, I’ve always treated you like my sister. Why are you trying to ruin my wedding? What has Sterling Holdings ever done to deserve this from you?!” The security guards dragged me out and tossed me onto the street. I managed to grab my phone, intending to call my brother, but a speeding car struck me down instantly. My fingers dug into my palm, my knuckles white, as I met Clara’s gaze. “Of course not,” I said, my voice cutting. Clara seemed taken aback by my refusal, her face darkening instantly. “Elara, did you see the message in the chat and misunderstand something? I already explained, I’m marrying my childhood friend, who’s like a brother.” “Misunderstand? She’s just jealous of your beauty, afraid you’ll steal her thunder!” The housekeeper, Clara’s mother, shot me a disdainful glance. She then began to lecture me, pretending to be a wise elder. “Elara, a double blessing is a good thing. Don’t be so petty. Both of you will be wearing veils anyway, so Clara won’t outshine you much.” I feigned surprise. “You’re right!” I exclaimed. “If we’re both wearing veils and leaving from the same house, what if they pick up the wrong bride?” I added, my voice dripping with false concern, “It’s absolutely impossible for you to get married from my house now! You two should go find a hotel and decorate it. You probably still have time.” Clara panicked. “Elara, we grew up together! Are you really going to ruin my wedding?” The other servants chimed in. “Clara always let you have your way since you were little. Their mother and daughter have worked for the Sterling family for twenty years, taking care of you. How can you be so heartless?” “Exactly! This is such a big day for her. If you’re not going to help, at least don’t cause trouble! Do you have no conscience?” “I think she’s just scared Clara will marry better than her!” One of them even finished by directly comforting Clara. “Why do we need to consult her anyway? Soon, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling will arrange a beautiful wedding chamber for you, a hundred times grander than hers!” Clara sniffled, her voice choked with manufactured emotion. I scoffed internally, my gaze sweeping coldly over the servants. I used to be too kind, letting them forget who the true mistress of this house was. I grabbed a cup and threw it to the floor. Immediately, the servants’ eyes narrowed, their gazes wary. “Why did you throw that cup? Do you know how hard it is to clean up?” “She has no sympathy! Not even a single hair of Clara’s is worth less than her. If it weren’t for her family background, no man would ever want her.” I walked over and slapped the one who had spoken. “So you do know my family background. And you do know this is the Sterling estate?” My voice was dangerously low. “Let me tell you, your wages come from my brother. If you don’t want to work, then get out now!” But to my utter shock, they didn’t cower. Instead, they laughed. “Playing the high-and-mighty Miss every day, still think you’ve got any real power?” “We’re not leaving. What are you going to do about it?!” “We’re going to give Clara a grand send-off!” “Is there anyone in this entire villa who listens to you? You’re just barking orders!” “Once Clara’s married, we’ll all go work for her. Leaving you alone in this villa, terrified by ghosts every single night, you wretched thing!” No wonder they were so bold. They had already decided to ditch the Sterling family and cling to Clara’s new influence! It made sense. In my previous life, if not for their cooperation, Clara wouldn’t have successfully impersonated me and married into Blackwood Enterprises. I gritted my teeth, holding back a storm of emotions. Clara’s mother glared at me. “What are you looking at? You were given a chance, and you threw it away. Get ready to be despised by the Blackwood family!” “Mom, stop talking to her. The wedding tomorrow is more important.” Clara turned to me, her face feigning regret. “Elara, I didn’t want it to come to this, but you were so petty today. It’s truly disheartening.” “Clara, ignore this useless creature. I’ll go decorate your wedding chamber now.” A group of them surrounded Clara and walked further into the villa. Clara looked back, a triumphant glint in her eyes. I clenched my fists. Even if I called my brother now, it would be too late. His most trusted associates were with him overseas. The company’s employees had probably already pledged their loyalty to Clara. My phone vibrated, an alert for a deposit of eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars. This was the betrothal payment from Blackwood Enterprises. An idea immediately sparked in my mind. I turned and headed to the mall. First, I purchased a property, then I bought a car. After ensuring I had spent every last penny of the eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars, I turned myself in at the police station. The officer looked at me, utterly bewildered. “Say that again. What are you here for?” “I committed marriage fraud. I’m here to confess.” The officer’s brow furrowed. “If you don’t want to marry them, can’t you just discuss calling off the engagement?” But I continued, “The wedding is tomorrow. I’ve already spent the entire betrothal payment, but I don’t want to get married.” “How much was the payment? Negotiate with them. Return the money.” “Eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand.” The police officer fell silent. This wasn’t just a high betrothal payment; it was an astronomical sum. The police insisted I negotiate with the groom’s family. I’d heard that Julian Blackwood, my intended fiancé, wasn’t known for his patience. Trembling, I took the phone from the officer. Surprisingly, the person on the other end didn’t sound angry. But it made sense. It was a commercial alliance, and we hadn’t even met. Plus, the wedding hadn’t been widely publicized, so the impact on Blackwood Enterprises wouldn’t be significant. “Are you certain you don’t wish to marry me?” the man’s voice came through the receiver. I responded softly, “Yes.” “Then let’s call off the engagement.” Through police mediation, I was required to return the eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollar betrothal payment to Blackwood Enterprises’ account by noon tomorrow. Otherwise, Blackwood Enterprises would press charges. I nodded, secretly elated. But that night, instead of trying to raise the money, I spent the entire night at a club. The next day, when I returned home, the entire villa was buzzing with joyous activity. The courtyard teemed with people. Not only had all the employees from Sterling Holdings arrived, but so had all of Clara’s and my former classmates. They surrounded Clara, praising her. “Clara has really blossomed. Our class, only Clara has truly made something of herself.” “Yes, we’ll all be relying on Clara for our livelihoods from now on.” The employees also chimed in. “They say CEO Blackwood is aloof and uninterested in women, but our young CEO Clara still managed to get him wrapped around her finger!” “From now on, we really need to stick close to CEO Clara.” Hearing this, I let out a cold laugh. You’re not marrying into Blackwood Enterprises, Clara. Eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars in betrothal payments are waiting for you to return! They were still lavishing praises when someone suddenly spotted me at the entrance. “Elara Sterling, what’s with those dark circles under your eyes? Where were you carousing last night?” “It’s Clara’s wedding day today. Even if you are their housekeeper’s daughter, you shouldn’t look so disheveled.” My gaze landed on Clara. To my surprise, she met my eyes directly and said, “Elara Sterling, you haven’t actually started believing you’re the Sterling heiress, have you?” Her voice rose, laced with contempt. “On my wedding day, are you going to wander around like a stray dog, ruining the ceremony? Can you bear the consequences?!” “What do you mean, ‘I think I’m the Sterling heiress’? This is my home.” The moment the words left my lips, they all burst into laughter. Clara’s little hangers-on from school, in particular, scoffed at me. “Elara Sterling, have you no shame? Your mother is a housekeeper here; that’s why you get to live in the villa. Clara, in her kindness, always prepared a share of everything good for you. And now you’re acting like you belong here.” He laughed. “We’ve all known Clara for years. Who doesn’t know she’s CEO Sterling’s only sister?” The Sterling Holdings employees also said they had never seen me at the company. Clara’s lackey wore a knowing smirk. “Clara arranged for many classmates to work at Sterling Holdings. So, this stray dog didn’t get a position, and that’s why she’s barking here.” “You might bark well, but Clara only managed to get you a job with a three-thousand-dollar monthly salary.” The moment I said that, the enraged woman slapped me across the face. My cheek instantly reddened and swelled. I gritted my teeth and glared at Clara’s lackey. “I’m warning you. I’m getting married today.” My voice was tight with suppressed fury. “If you dare lay a hand on me, Blackwood Enterprises will make sure you suffer!” “Still dreaming, are we? Drank too much last night and didn’t wake up?” “Need a cold shower to sober you up?” They started to approach with a basin of cold water. I tried to dodge, but two people grabbed my arms. The cold water poured over my head, its icy chill making my body tremble. Before I could even react, another slap landed on my face. Clara stepped forward, pinching my chin. “Sober now?” Her eyes narrowed. “If not, maybe we can try some props. A knife, a whip, hot tongs… which do you prefer?” Her small lackey already handed her a fruit knife. Clara tapped my face with the fruit knife. “Elara, we grew up together. I wanted to let you off, but you insisted on causing trouble on my wedding day.” Her voice hardened. “The Blackwood family is marrying me, not a useless wretch like you!” Clara’s little lackey kicked my knee. My legs buckled, and I fell directly to the ground. Clara put her foot on my face. “Elara Sterling, you’re just my dog. Now, kowtow to me a hundred times and apologize, and maybe I’ll forgive you.” Blood trickled from my lips as I sneered at her. “Dream on. Clara Hayes, as long as I don’t give my consent, the Blackwood family’s procession will never arrive today!”

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Hollywood heartthrob Jack Holloway rocked by secret marriage and love child scandal. I dialed my daughter: “You had a baby? Without telling me?” Kelly, on the other end, was sobbing, barely able to breathe: “Mom! I want a divorce!” 1 By the time I arrived at Kelly’s house, the place was already a disaster zone. The nanny had silently locked herself in her room, clearly unwilling to be caught in the crossfire. No one was cleaning up the mess. Jack Holloway sat on the sofa, his face utterly devoid of emotion, watching my daughter hurl objects. Kelly, her voice raw, was practically tearing the place apart. “Nine years, Jack! From your days as a struggling bit player, I was there, unwavering, supporting your every move, bankrolling your struggling years, ensuring you could chase that impossible dream.” “My mother absolutely forbade our relationship. I battled her for three agonizing years until she finally relented. I pushed boundaries she never thought I would, going to extreme lengths to make her see that you were the one. Only then, finally defeated, did she agree to open her coffers and propel your career.” “All these years – TV shows, movies, singles… What did you ever want to try that our family didn’t help you with? How do you think you became an Oscar-winning actor, Jack? Do you honestly have no idea?” “Nine years of my life, my sacrifice, and this is how you repay me?!” After her furious outburst, Kelly could no longer stand. She leaned against the wall, collapsing into gut-wrenching sobs. Jack ran a hand over his face. “Kelly, please, let me explain. It was just that one time, I was drunk, and it was a mistake with her! But she wouldn’t terminate the pregnancy, what was I supposed to do?” I stepped through the shattered entrance in my high heels, tossed my designer bag onto the nearest table, and fixed him with an icy glare. “Alright, spill it. What happened?” Kelly rushed into my arms, tears streaming. I patted her back, ushering her to her room. “Go rest, darling. I’ll handle Jack.” Jack looked utterly repentant in my presence. “Eleanor, I’m so sorry…” Turns out, over a year ago, the very night Jack received his Oscar, his entire team celebrated through the night. Kelly was abroad at the time, deep into her PhD studies, and hadn’t been back to see him for ages. The alcohol, coupled with a long period of loneliness, led him to a regrettable one-night stand with his agent, Ava Miller. Later, terrified of exposure, he gave Ava a substantial sum of money and told her to leave the agency. But to his shock, she turned out to be pregnant. She then secretly gave birth to the child, and a few months later, reappeared with the baby, claiming they were helpless, a single mother and child with nowhere to turn. Out of concern for the infant, Jack kept their existence under wraps for months, quietly supporting them. Finally, a few days ago, the child developed a severe fever from a viral rash that wouldn’t break. Last night, the fever escalated into a febrile seizure, requiring an emergency trip to the hospital. Jack, worried sick, snuck in to check on the baby. And that, of course, was when the paparazzi snapped their photos, blowing the whole story wide open. The particular gossip kingpin who broke the story hadn’t even bothered to negotiate. Jack had publicly scorned him on camera once, and his fans had mobbed the guy online. I listened calmly to the entire sordid account, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll have my assistant draft the divorce papers immediately. You and Kelly are done.” To my surprise, Jack immediately dropped to his knees. “No, Eleanor! Please, I don’t want to divorce Kelly! I truly love her!” 2 An A-list actor, an untouchable idol admired by millions… And this is what he’s reduced to. I’d always known the entertainment industry was a cesspool. That’s why, from the moment Kelly met Jack, I scrutinized him for five years before I even allowed them to get a marriage license. Yet, I remained wary, insisting they keep their marriage private. My biggest fear was a day like this, where my daughter would become a public spectacle. My daughter was born into privilege, coddled and adored for thirty years, sailing through life without a single major setback. But precisely because of this, that hothouse flower had blossomed into a hopelessly romantic fool. One could say Jack Holloway was the only real ‘disruption’ in her perfectly curated life. And now? The ‘secret marriage’ is exposed, but the ‘wife’ they’re all clamoring about isn’t my Kelly. Kelly, listening from her room, couldn’t contain herself. She burst out, eyes still red-rimmed, “Mom…” “I told you long ago, you two aren’t suited.” I forced myself to maintain a patient tone with my daughter. “You always scoffed at my business connections, claiming the trust-fund babies I introduced were shallow and insufferable. See now? The entertainment industry is nothing but a playground for capital. How high do you truly believe their moral compass extends?” Kelly bit her lip, glaring at me, her eyes filled with resentment. Jack scrambled to defend himself. “No, Eleanor, this was truly just an accident. My feelings for Kelly have never wavered.” “It’s just… the baby is innocent, after all. That’s why I’ve been so conflicted…” I waved my hand, cutting him off. “Spare me the details. I’m a woman who only cares about results.” Just then, the doorbell chimed. This was an upscale gated community; not just anyone could get in. I turned to Jack, my gaze sharp. He frowned, attempting to ignore the persistent chime. But my foolish daughter, bless her heart, couldn’t contain herself. She stomped to the door and flung it open. Standing outside was a woman with an innocent face, cradling a baby who looked about six months old. My eyes swept over her, and she immediately dropped to her knees on the doorstep. These people, it seemed, had knees made of rubber; they could kneel without a second thought. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Hayes! This was all my doing! I seduced Mr. Holloway that night, and I decided to have the baby on my own, and later, it was me who used the child to threaten him! None of this is Mr. Holloway’s fault!” She cried as she spoke, a picture of tearful vulnerability, enough to melt anyone’s heart. No wonder Jack couldn’t control himself. But… I smiled. “Child, don’t rush. Give me a few days, and I promise, I’ll ensure the baby’s father returns to your side.” Jack immediately looked distressed, trying to speak but stopping himself. To my astonishment, Ava gently placed the baby on the doormat, crying as she declared, “Every mistake is mine, all mine! The baby is innocent! Please, I beg you, raise him yourselves! I swear I’ll never bother you again!” With that, Ava turned and ran, her desperate figure vanishing down the driveway in a blink. 3 A six-month-old baby, barely able to sit up, and she truly dared to just leave him with strangers. I raised an eyebrow, turning back to my own daughter. Kelly, in her thirty years, had never experienced anything like this. She was stunned, watching the baby flail on the doormat, wailing pitifully. I knew her impeccable upbringing wouldn’t permit her to simply abandon a crying infant on the doorstep. Jack, of course, knew this too. He quickly stepped inside, called out the nanny, and instructed her to bring the baby in before he cried himself sick. My headstrong daughter, incredibly, just stood there watching. “Still standing there, Kelly?” I gave her a pointed look. “Mom, I… this…” She stomped her foot in exasperation. Jack seemed about to break the awkward silence, but I cut him off. “Since someone has already brought their love child into your home, aren’t you going to pack your things and come with me?” At that, my foolish daughter finally snapped out of it. She fumed, “I don’t even know if these things in the house have been touched by that… person! I’m a clean freak, I can’t stand it! I don’t need to pack anything. Mom, let’s go!” I nodded. Not bad. At least she had some backbone left. Though once we were home, she reverted to tearful despair. By the next morning, however, her tears had transformed into a raging inferno. Early that day, as I was having breakfast downstairs, a disheveled but frantic Kelly rushed down from upstairs. “Mom! Look at this!” Kelly slapped her tablet onto the table. I glanced at it. It was a new exposé from Mark Jenkins, the gossip kingpin. The report claimed to have unmasked Oscar-winning Jack Holloway’s secret wife: Kelly Hayes, the young heiress of Hayes Group, a brilliant, well-educated socialite who had studied abroad. If I hadn’t taken her from that house yesterday, she would surely be surrounded by a barrage of cameras and reporters right now. At that point, even if the child wasn’t hers, it would be. She’d be damned if she could ever clear her name. People always preferred to believe the initial reports, to cling to their first impressions. If everyone already believed the child belonged to Kelly and Jack, any clarification from Kelly would only make it worse. By then, a love child could easily be whitewashed into a legitimate heir. I sipped my coffee, a faint smile playing on my lips. “Jack’s former agent, Ava. Her tactics are quite something.” I met Kelly’s bewildered gaze. “They’re not just trying to walk all over you, Kelly. They’re trying to force you to swallow their mess.” 4 That same day, the Hayes Group’s official account released a statement. Three simple words: “No children.” Less than half an hour later, comments soared past a hundred thousand. “Fewer words, bigger scandal!” “Please, don’t fall for it. You believe what the paparazzi say? Our ‘Jack’ probably doesn’t even know who this ‘heiress’ is. Maybe she’s just trying to hype up her family company.” “Are you in junior high? Do you know what Hayes Group is? One of the nation’s leading corporations! Your ‘Jack’ isn’t even fit to carry Ms. Hayes’s shoes.” I paid no mind to these trivial squabbles. Right now, Jack stood before me, his agent’s boss practically groveling. “Mrs. Hayes, you see how this has blown up. It’s really unnecessary! After all, Jack and Kelly have been together for so many years…” “Get to the point,” I interjected, glancing at my watch, a flicker of impatience in my eyes. My North American regional general manager was due for a negotiation soon, and having them loitering in my office was unseemly. Jack knew my temperament well. If I got truly annoyed, I wouldn’t hesitate to have them physically escorted out. So, he stepped forward, his expression solemn. “Eleanor, I know I messed up. I’ve already spoken with Ava. I’ll send her and the baby abroad, and they’ll never be allowed to return. We can say the child is a relative’s, and Mark Jenkins’ report was a fabrication…” “You can tell that to your fans, they’ll believe anything. But what about the Hayes family’s reputation?” This boy truly thought our social circles were filled with brainless schoolchildren. Ultimately, I had them ushered out. When I got home, Kelly told me Jack had also contacted her today, promising a litany of concessions. I asked her, “What do you want to do?” “Mom,” Kelly covered her eyes, her voice muffled with despair. “I just don’t know what to do…” Nine years of a relationship, her first love at that – it wasn’t easy to let go, especially for someone so hopelessly romantic. Ultimately, I gave Jack two options. First, retire from acting, move into the Hayes estate, and accept that all future decisions would be made by the Hayes family. Second, divorce, and walk away with nothing. Kelly initially thought I was being too harsh, but I immediately replayed the surveillance video of Ava placing the baby on our doorstep three times. After that, Kelly tacitly accepted my decision. However, the very next day, Jack directly posted his marriage certificate with Kelly online, accompanied by a lengthy, ambiguous, and emotional caption. He effectively cut off all of Kelly’s escape routes. By doing so, he, the principal party, had publicly “confirmed” that the child was indeed his and Kelly’s, attempting to create a false image of a happy family of three. What a preemptive strike. He had guts. I never thought he possessed such cunning or audacity. Kelly hadn’t expected Jack to do something like that either. She stopped moping at home and rushed to my office, her face a mask of disbelief. “How could he do this?!”

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1 A new saying spreads across the Arcane Realms: “In good times, trust the First Blade. In hard times, the Second Star. In despair, only the Junior Disciple can save you.” Thanks to Grandmaster Elara’s new apprentice Rosalyn, our Celestial Apex Order now has all three legendary roles: Kaelen (First Blade): The righteous leader Lyra (Second Star): The silent warrior Rosalyn (Junior Disciple): The charming actress But I’m Fiora, the forgotten Third Disciple. While others shine – like handsome Alaric (Fourth) and sharp-tongued Theron (Fifth) – I tend my vegetables and chickens, invisible to all. When Grandmaster entered seclusion a century ago, she declared: “The Order’s future rests on them!” Yet I remain a ghost in these halls. I once overheard some Inner Circle Adepts offering new initiates advice: “The First Blade upholds rigid decorum. The Second Star’s combat lessons are brutal. The Fourth Disciple is handsome and harbors no grudges. Don’t cross the Fifth Disciple; he has royal backing. And the new Junior Disciple is innocently charming.” The initiates, fresh from the Outer Circle after years of grueling effort, wore expressions of utter bewilderment. “The Third Disciple? Is that a brother or sister? Which glorious battle claimed their life?” The Inner Circle Adept hesitated, his confidence wavering. “Uh… the Third Disciple should be alive.” “And what about warnings concerning the Third Disciple?” “I… I can’t recall. Hey, you, Senior Adept! Do you remember anything about the Third Disciple?” Listening to them discuss me, I calmly responded, “I don’t remember.” I didn’t even bother to watch their flustered expressions, simply returned to digging for earthworms. Today’s gossip from the Celestial Apex Order: “Junior Disciple cried after delivering a potion for the Second Star. Poor dear.” “The First Blade reprimanded the Second Star for being cold-hearted, now they’re in a cold war. Scary, scary.” “The Fourth Disciple encountered an old foe, chose to let bygones be bygones. Admirable, admirable.” “The Fifth Disciple gave nicknames to various Elders and is now wanted for insubordination. Curious, curious.” “That pair of white rabbits in the back garden had a litter of black kits, sparking rumors of infidelity. Such a pity.” “…” Even the rabbits get more mentions than me. The Third Disciple is so low-key, it’s as if I don’t even exist. I drifted against the flow of students leaving their blade lessons, admiring the overflowing basin of earthworms. All that hard work hadn’t gone to waste. But when I pushed open my courtyard gate, I found all the main characters from today’s gossip already there. Kaelen, the First Blade, a man of imposing bearing, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, lecturing: “How could you say the Elder of Lore looks like an eggplant, the Elder of Runes like a potato, and the Elder of Discipline like a bell pepper?” Theron, the Fifth Disciple, slouched lazily in my favorite sun-drenched rocking chair. “One purple, one yellow, one green,” he drawled. “Makes for a perfect stir-fry of three garden delights.” Beside him, Alaric, the Fourth Disciple, a youth of peerless beauty, lifted a sleeve, a faint, ethereal smile gracing his features. “Worms! First Blade, I’m so scared!” Rosalyn, the Junior Disciple, a delicate and charming girl, flung herself onto Kaelen. I could clearly see Lyra, the Second Star, her sword hand free, her fingertips white with suppressed tension. This Junior Disciple was Grandmaster Elara’s latest apprentice, taken on three years ago when she unexpectedly emerged from seclusion for half an hour, only to descend the mountain and return with Rosalyn. “Innocently charming” was the general consensus among the male apprentices. “A manipulative charmer” was the common opinion among the female apprentices. As for what I thought… This was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on her. Was this truly the savior in times of despair? Grandmaster Elara’s second departure into seclusion made the initiation ritual a hurried affair. I hadn’t made it back from the village below in time, and no one had even noticed my absence. All of Grandmaster Elara’s chosen scions were supposedly present. As for the other four, it had been a hundred years since I last saw them, hadn’t it? Kaelen, the First Blade, continued to soothe Rosalyn’s feigned sobs. It was a long while before he finally noticed me, squatting on the ground, dividing earthworms, utterly lacking in presence. He looked at me. “Uh…” I nodded in understanding. “No need to say my name.” Kaelen’s handsome face flushed with embarrassment. “Third Disciple, the Mystic Realm has opened.” I snatched my little chick, nearly bald from Theron’s excessive petting, from his hand. “I’m not going.” 2 Theron, the Fifth Disciple, stared at his empty palm, his neck stiff. “This fat chick is ugly anyway. Who cares about looking at it?” Kaelen, the First Blade, spoke with firm conviction: “All Inner Circle Disciples from every Order are required to participate in the Mystic Realm.” I calmly continued dividing the earthworms. “No one will notice my absence.” “Third Disciple, how can you be so devoid of loyalty to the Order? And to claim no one will notice is simply absurd…” I listened to his passionate lecture, then murmured drily, “First Blade, I’m right behind you.” In the end, I went. The Mystic Realm, it turned out, required the presence of every Order’s Inner Circle Disciple to activate. Unless a Soul-Fire was extinguished – a literal death – the portal wouldn’t open if even one was missing. My condition for going? They had to gather a full bucket of live earthworms. My chicks needed their rations, after all. Kaelen reluctantly agreed. The sheer quantity of live worms needed meant even Rosalyn, the Junior Disciple, was dragged along to help. After an entire day. Rosalyn returned clinging to Kaelen’s arm, her face streaked with snot and tears, completely devoid of her usual delicate image. Lyra, the Second Star, narrowed her cold eyes, a rare hint of satisfaction in them. With the tip of her blade, she nudged the wooden bucket forward. A few worms wriggled onto the ground. Her tone, usually detached, held a surprising note of camaraderie as she spoke to me: “Third Disciple, is this enough?” Rosalyn’s face went white. “First Blade, does the Second Star dislike me? I’m so scared~” Kaelen frowned in displeasure, scolding Lyra: “Must you always be so difficult with the Junior Disciple?” Lyra flinched visibly at his words, then turned and strode away. I’d heard this same charade had been playing out for five years, always the same tired script. I didn’t bother to watch, simply picked up the bucket and headed towards the chicken coop. There, I saw Alaric, the Fourth Disciple, bending over a pile of plump, fluffy chicks, sighing. “Third Disciple, you really are… unique.” Most people raise magical beasts or spirit familiars. Half my courtyard is for vegetables, the other half for chickens… Could he recognize me without hearing my voice? I asked curiously, “Fourth Disciple, has your… condition improved?” Alaric’s smile stiffened. He turned and drifted away with his usual elegant stride. Guess not… Even Kaelen, the First Blade, didn’t know that Alaric was face-blind. The reason he constantly flashed that dazzling, almost blinding smile at everyone he met was simply because he couldn’t tell anyone apart. We were to depart in three days. I busied myself with my courtyard, watering, fertilizing, and pulling weeds. On the journey. Unlike the others, who were arrayed in their finest ceremonial robes, I had simply changed into a disciple’s tunic that wasn’t covered in mud. Theron, the Fifth Disciple, ever the caustic wit, sneered. “You’d grow two extra biscuits by your side if you slept at the foot of the mountain. Don’t tell anyone you’re my Senior Disciple out there, alright?” Kaelen uttered a low reprimand, but it couldn’t stop Theron’s sharp tongue. “You’re carrying a mere Satchel of Holding? That’s so shabby! Aren’t you using a larger Dimensional Pouch for the Mystic Realm?” My voice was earnest. “I don’t have a Dimensional Pouch.” Theron nearly bit his tongue. The Inner Circle Adepts around him looked at him with clear disapproval. Kaelen, feeling a surge of responsibility, offered me a high-grade Rune-Carved Pendant, a charm of storing. Rosalyn, unaware of the conversation, rushed to Kaelen, her eyes brimming with feigned tears. “I can’t believe the Second Star cares so little. It pains me to see First Blade’s kindness wasted like this.” Everyone looked up at Lyra, who had just arrived, holding a Rune-Carved Pendant identical to the one Kaelen had offered me. Then they glanced at the somewhat awkward Kaelen. Kaelen, it turned out, had given one storage pendant to Lyra and one to me. Rosalyn, the Junior Disciple, clearly wanted one too. I held it out to her, offering it. She scrutinized me from head to toe. “Third Disciple… you should keep it for yourself.” Even though the pendants were identical, even a manipulative charmer like Rosalyn felt too awkward to outright snatch mine. Compared to them, I was just… too obviously poor. They didn’t understand, and I didn’t understand them. Why would you wear new clothes to an adventurous, dangerous expedition? I held out the pendant, offering it to each of them. Seeing their collective shakes of the head, I calmly put it away. When I returned and sold it at the Shadow Market, it should fetch a decent sum, shouldn’t it? 3 The new generation of paragons from the three Orders and four Guilds had gathered outside the Mystic Realm. The Celestial Apex Order’s six Inner Circle Disciples and fourteen Outer Circle Adepts stood in formation. Kaelen, the First Blade, stood at the front of the line, his presence refined and composed as he calmly reminded everyone of the dangers. Lyra, the Second Star, stood at the very end, an aura of cold detachment around her. Though young, she had already achieved the Grand Magus stage, and her renowned blade, ‘Frostbane,’ hummed faintly, as if eager to be drawn. Alaric, the Fourth Disciple, in robes of moonlight white, exuded an air of elegant grace, his eyes, dark as deep pools, shimmering with a gentle smile that met every probing gaze. Theron, the Fifth Disciple, leaned casually, his body askew, his sharp tongue freely assessing the combat prowess of the other Orders. And Rosalyn, the Junior Disciple, with her lively, playful demeanor, drew curious murmurs from many. As for me, my appearance was ordinary, my abilities unremarkable. Even my clothes were plain, allowing me to fade seamlessly into the crowd. I was perfectly content with this; I was merely here to make up the numbers. “The Umbral Vault… opens!” We would be gone for a month in the outside world, but within the Umbral Vault, we had three months to seek out opportunities and grow stronger. Kaelen, the First Blade, skillfully led the way, guiding everyone smoothly forward. Wherever he stepped, a silent pressure descended, awe-inspiring and formidable. The twelve Outer Circle Adepts could form a variety of Blade Formations, in groups of six, four, or three, to engage foes. Lyra, the Second Star, her Blade-Song roaring like a crimson rainbow, served as the disciples’ unwavering shield, ensuring their safety during the arduous trials. Her combat prowess was truly maxed out! My confidence in the Order’s future soared! Midway, we encountered our sworn enemies, a contingent from the Starfall Covenant. Kaelen, ever mindful of his standing, wished to avoid a verbal spat. Lyra, the Second Star, seemed to be calculating the odds of simply cutting them down. But then Theron, the Fifth Disciple, with his incessant sharp tongue, and Rosalyn, the Junior Disciple, with her sly, honeyed words, delivered such passive-aggressive barbs that the Starfall mages turned green, then purple, then a mottled grey before retreating in disarray. Their verbal artillery was truly unparalleled! My confidence in the Order’s future increased tenfold! The air grew progressively hotter, and Rosalyn, the Junior Disciple, began to wilt, her chatter ceasing. Seeing this, I pulled a waterskin filled with the Celestial Apex Order’s Aether-Spring water from my Dimensional Pouch and offered it to her. The Order’s future couldn’t afford any mishaps. She drank it all in one gulp, and her pale complexion improved slightly. Seeing her reaction, I pulled out another waterskin. She drank that one too, and a faint blush returned to her cheeks. I heard the sound of swallowing. I turned to see the Inner Circle Adepts looking at me with envious eyes. The disciples had prepared for a near-certain death within the Mystic Realm, but they had forgotten the most basic necessity: water. Of course, there was water in the Realm, but one sip could kill three people without a problem. And while you could sustain yourself on aether and not eat, no one said you didn’t need to drink. I held my Dimensional Pouch in one hand, digging inside, pulling out waterskin after waterskin: one for you, one for her, one for him… It was the first time the disciples truly looked at me, and they all spoke in unison: “Thank you, Third Disciple!” I looked at Lyra, the Second Star – even the ‘God of Hardship’ shouldn’t die of thirst – and handed her two waterskins specifically. Lyra seemed at a loss for words. “How much water did you bring?” I looked at the number of waterskins in everyone’s hands, then silently reattached my Dimensional Pouch to my waist. “You might want to ration it. I… I think I’m out now.” Theron, the Fifth Disciple, suddenly realized he’d been tricked. “How can a mere Satchel of Holding have so much space? You must have an Arcane Relic, you were deliberately misleading everyone!” Before I could speak, Kaelen, the First Blade, came to my defense. “It’s common knowledge that the Umbral Vault has extremely hot zones. The Third Disciple is meticulous. To empty a Satchel of Holding solely for water isn’t misleading; it’s foresight.” Everyone nodded in agreement, expressing their thanks. I looked at their appreciative gazes and offered a small smile. We soon arrived at a dense forest. I stood beside them, listening to the disciples’ unbridled discussions. “The Third Disciple is so poor… but what a kind soul.” “When we get back, let’s pool our resources and buy her an Arcane Relic.” I glanced at the “mountain” of Dimensional Pouches stacked inside my own Satchel of Holding, the one labeled “Aether-Spring” sitting right at the front. Wasn’t it just easier to organize things this way? Besides… Aether-Spring water was a shared resource of the Celestial Apex Order; it didn’t cost anything. 4 Beasts roared, blades flashed in a chaotic dance. Four of us were protected for various reasons: Alaric, the Fourth Disciple, was an Alchemist. Theron, the Fifth Disciple, wasn’t suited for direct, brutal combat. Rosalyn, the Junior Disciple, lacked experience. And I… well, I was simply forgotten by everyone. This life of fighting five battles a day, three of them deadly serious, was utterly intolerable. I spotted a gnarled, leaning tree about three hundred paces ahead, planning to slip away and lie low there. I’d just reappear when the trials ended and leave with them… Two hours later, a thick-trunked black python crashed to the ground with a thunderous thud. The disciples supported each other, exhausted but victorious. Rosalyn, the Junior Disciple, scurried over to them, offering concerned words. The male disciples: “The Junior Disciple is so kind! She’s even crying out of sympathy.” The female disciples: “No, she just took a tonic from the Fourth Disciple.” Alaric, the Fourth Disciple, despite having his credit stolen, didn’t show the slightest displeasure. His smile even widened. Everyone praised him for his beauty, kindness, gentleness, and generosity. But I had just seen him pacing in distress, clutching a pouch of potent tonics. To him, every injured person on the ground looked the same. It would have been all too easy to administer the wrong one! Then Rosalyn snatched the tonic, her voice syrupy sweet. “The Fourth Disciple has been frightened. Let me take care of everyone, okay~?” I mused on her cunning. A century, and no one had noticed he was face-blind. Theron, the Fifth Disciple, specialized in heavy mauls, a singular fighting style. Against a beast like the giant python, with its impenetrable defenses, he could only hang back. Now, he grumbled, taking out his hammer to vent his frustration, pummeling the frenzied, man-eating black python until it was nothing but a bloody pulp. At the front, Lyra, the Second Star, wiped black blood from her blade. Kaelen, the First Blade, shakily rose to his feet, counting heads. “This area is dangerous. We must leave quickly.” I seized the opportunity, slipping behind the gnarled tree and hiding. I watched them, a weary procession, pushing onward. With a grunt, I began to climb the leaning trunk, ready to rest, when I saw a scattered group lying ahead. Why were the future pillars of the Order sleeping on the ground? The Celestial Apex Order contingent, all nineteen of them, had been poisoned. I saw the white mist swirling above their heads. I tore a strip from the hem of my old tunic and tied it over my nose and mouth. This was the benefit of old clothes; no heartache over tearing them. The Umbral Vault was indeed a place where death lurked around every corner, not just a rumor. If a beast appeared now, there would be no survivors. I trusted Kaelen; they must have known there was danger. They just didn’t know a single breath of that mist could bring them down. It took me over half an hour to drag my Senior and Junior Disciples out of the mist-shrouded area. I was panting, completely exhausted. Thankfully, all those years of dragging fertilizer had given me some useful experience. I leaned over them, checking for breath. They were all alive, but even slapping their faces wouldn’t rouse them. This was a job for Alaric, the Fourth Disciple. He definitely had antidotes on him. I knelt, gripping his slender wrist, straining with all my might to pull off his storage bracelet. “Third Disciple, what are you looking for?” I gasped in surprise. “You’re awake?” Alaric’s eyes, usually sparkling, held a resentful glint. “I was in pain, so I woke up.” He flexed his wrist, then rummaged through his bracelet for the antidote. Perhaps my gaze was too eager, for he offered an explanation. “I often test potions on myself. I’m immune to most poisons.” At his words, I patted his shoulder, ready to slip away. With you here, I can comfortably lie down. But his eyes, usually so welcoming, were now filled with scrutiny. “Third Disciple, why did you stray from the group just now? Are you up to something… unsavory?” My hand instinctively clenched, a cold dread creeping up my spine at his words. Alaric continued rummaging through his vials and jars. “Third Disciple must be wondering how I knew.” He was right. It was impossible. For a hundred years, we’d attended lessons together, often crossed paths. Back then, Alaric treated me no differently from anyone else. “Why?”

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At a wedding, I accidentally caught the bride’s bouquet. Right there, in front of everyone, Fred, my fiancé, publicly lambasted me, accusing me of being manipulative and trying to force him into marriage. Then, he chased after his tearfully distraught assistant, Chloe, who had run off. I tried to follow, to explain, but he drove off, dragging me for over ten yards before I managed to break free. It was a stranger who rushed me to the hospital for emergency treatment. After a near-death experience, I finally called my mother. “Mom, that arranged marriage you mentioned? I agree to it.” 1 After a week in the hospital, I took a taxi home alone. Standing before the familiar front door, I fumbled with my keys, but they wouldn’t turn the lock. There was no choice but to call Fred. The moment the call connected, Chloe’s sugary, high-pitched voice purred through the phone: “Fred’s in the shower. Olivia, is that you back?” Before I could reply, the door opened from the inside. The moment Chloe saw me, she bounced towards me like a startled fawn. “Olivia, I’m so clumsy! I lost the key, and Fred said he was worried a bad person might find it, so he changed the lock. You don’t have the new key yet, do you, Olivia? I’ll give you one later.” My eyes took in Chloe, wearing Fred’s oversized black shirt. And Fred, clad only in a bath towel. A misty haze clung to both of them, radiating an unsettling intimacy. I simply nodded, then dragged my luggage inside. Seeing my silence, my lack of protest, Fred dropped the towel he was using to dry his hair and explained, “Chloe’s pipes burst at her place, so she’s staying with us for a few days. Don’t misunderstand.” In the past, seeing a scene like this would have left me deeply unsettled. But now, I just felt bone-weary. The wound on my back hadn’t fully healed, a faint, taut ache reminding me of it. Looking at Fred’s face, all I could see was that day: his frantic search for Chloe, completely oblivious to me, trailing behind his car, bleeding onto the asphalt. In that moment, my love for him had completely dissipated, along with my fading consciousness. “I didn’t misunderstand.” I walked straight towards the bedroom, not looking back, dragging my suitcase behind me. “She’s just a young girl, with no family nearby. It’s not easy for her. I just wanted to lend a hand.” I met his gaze, silently. He had probably forgotten that I had been separated from my parents since childhood. That kind of hardship… no one understood it better than I did. “I said, I didn’t misunderstand.” Seeing him block my path, I had to stop and reiterate. “Olivia, you’ve been giving us dirty looks since you walked in. Can you just listen to me for a moment?” He tugged at my suitcase, chattering on. My patience snapped. I released the handle, frowning as I said coldly, “I told you, I really didn’t misunderstand!” The suitcase crashed to the floor with a dull thud. Ignoring Fred’s stunned expression, I walked around him and pushed open the bedroom door. Following the light filtering in from the living room, my eyes immediately landed on the black lace lingerie scattered across the bed. Only then did Chloe rush in from behind us, like a panicked deer. She scurried over, snatching the lingerie into her hands, her innocent wide eyes brimming with tears. “Olivia, this is my laundry, I put it here to dry. Please don’t overthink it.” I scanned the messy bedroom. “Hm,” I hummed, then turned and walked into the guest room without another glance. 2 By the time I finished showering, my mother happened to call. “Olivia, I’m glad you finally saw sense. Your father and I are getting old, and you’re our only daughter. All these years, you wouldn’t come and be with us because of that Fred boy, and you don’t know how much your father and I missed you. If he treated you well, it would be one thing, but it’s been ten years, and he’s still just dragging you along, clearly not truly sincere.” “Since you’ve finally decided to come back to us, how about we set the wedding date for ten days from now?” At my mother’s words, my hand, which had been drying my hair, paused. In the past, when my mother gave such advice, I would always firmly contradict her, telling her that Fred loved me. But this time, only silence remained. “Let’s push the wedding date to half a month from now. I want to celebrate Aunt Carol’s birthday before I leave. For everything else, you can decide.” I had just hung up the phone. The sound of the door closing echoed from the hallway. Fred strode over to me, carrying a takeout bag of “spicy seafood boil” he’d picked up on the way. He placed the bag on the table, then frowned, leaning in to try and see my phone. “What wedding date? I’ve told you many times, we’re still young. I don’t want to get married so early.” I pressed the phone screen dark, looking at his overly defensive posture. “It’s just a cousin on my father’s side. She’s inviting me to her wedding.” Hearing this, Fred dropped his guard. He opened the food containers on the table. When he mentioned Chloe, his eyes unconsciously softened into a smile. “I’ve settled Chloe in a hotel. The girl saw you weren’t happy, so she specifically bought this for me to bring back to apologize. She usually doesn’t even buy this for herself. Try some.” Looking at the shrimp and clams swimming in red oil, I didn’t pick up my chopsticks. Fred’s eyes flashed with displeasure. “Olivia Reed, that’s enough. Dragging this out won’t do anyone any good.” I smiled. “Ten years together, and you don’t even know I’m allergic to seafood?” With that, I turned and went back to my room. Fred followed me, his lips parted as if to speak, then closed again. The old Fred would remember my period dates, remember my headaches on rainy days, remember every significant anniversary for us. And he would remember, the first time he discovered my seafood allergy, how he’d held my hand, crying silently all night at my hospital bedside, consumed by guilt. Now, it wasn’t that he’d forgotten; it was just that Chloe liked seafood, and she happened to occupy his heart. He simply got confused. I didn’t look at him, raising my hand to arrange the ointment the doctor prescribed, one by one, on the nightstand. When he saw the scars on my back, his guilt intensified. He picked up the ointment from the table, about to apply it to my back. I was about to refuse when his phone rang at the perfect moment. It was so close, I clearly heard Chloe’s panicked sobs. “Fred, dearest, someone keeps knocking on the door! Is this hotel a shady place? I’m so scared! I heard some criminal gangs target girls living alone like me. Can you come and stay with me?” Hearing this, Fred clenched his phone tightly. “Don’t be afraid. Turn on all the lights in the room, and block the door with chairs or anything. Don’t open it, no matter what. I’m coming for you right now.” After hanging up, he explained to me, earnestly and seriously, “Olivia, Chloe might be in danger right now. I have to go out. I swear, I really just see Chloe as a sister. Don’t make a fuss about her anymore.” Without waiting for my answer, he hurried to the door. The ointment bottle was swept off the table by his coat, spilling most of its contents. I looked at the closed door and curved my lips. Every time he and Chloe crossed a line before, I couldn’t help but feel jealous and angry. And every time, he would call me petty and unreasonable. But Fred, rest assured, from now on, I will never argue with you again. 3 From that day on, Fred never came back. Chloe’s social media, however, updated frequently. Each post, subtly or overtly, boasted about how much Fred doted on her. I quietly added her to my blacklist. Then, on the wall calendar, I crossed off one date after another. Thirteen days left. I started busy preparing my resignation letter. My team leader, seeing the words “Getting Married” boldly written as my reason for leaving, chuckled and teased me about expecting an invitation to my wedding with Fred. She even suggested that marriage didn’t necessitate quitting my job. Not until I told her I wasn’t marrying Fred. She sighed regretfully, then stopped prying into my personal life. These days had been consumed by handing over my work. Once the handover was mostly complete, I suddenly found myself with free time, staring blankly at the calendar, which now showed “five days left.” I patted my cheeks, then began to pack my belongings. Fred and I had known each other for so long. This house was filled with our photos. I carefully tore out my half of all our joint pictures. Then, from the deepest corner of my closet, I pulled out a small wooden box. Inside was a camera, holding gigabytes of videos and photos we’d taken over the years. Besides the camera, there were also a thousand paper cranes he had folded for me in high school. The evening gown I wore for my college performance. Hundreds of love letters he had written… Looking at these things, my heart still felt heavy, a dull ache. After all, the Fred of old had truly cared for me. He hadn’t wanted to miss a single moment of my life. Sometimes, I would tease him, asking if he didn’t feel like he was wasting time remembering so much. He would just smile and playfully tap my nose, saying, “Of course not. I want to record it all, so when we’re old, we can sit in rocking chairs and look through them together.” After flipping through them for a while, I took all these items to the yard. Without hesitation, I set fire to the past, burning everything to ashes. 4 Time flew by. Fred never returned. These past few days, I had been constantly cleaning the house. I didn’t stop until I was sure not a single trace of my presence remained in the home. I looked at the calendar, a large “3” circled prominently. I began to select a birthday gift for Aunt Carol. Ultimately, I chose a jade peace buckle pendant. I hoped that in my absence, Aunt Carol would remain healthy and safe. Once all the arrangements were made, it was Aunt Carol’s birthday, the day before the wedding. In the interim, Fred had sent me a message explaining that he had an unexpected business trip, but I hadn’t replied. Later, he called again, questioning why I had sent insulting text messages to Chloe. He demanded I apologize to Chloe, saying that if I just admitted my mistake, Chloe, being pure and kind, wouldn’t hold a grudge. I found it ridiculous. After all these years, he actually believed I was capable of such a vulgar act. I simply hung up. His text messages bombarded me immediately: [Olivia Reed, you’re something else!] A few minutes later, another message arrived: [Olivia, I really don’t understand. Why have you become like this?!] … Aunt Carol was my mother’s best friend and Fred’s aunt. When my parents went to another city for business, they entrusted me to Aunt Carol. Later, Fred’s family moved in next door to Aunt Carol’s. Fred and I were in the same class, walked to and from school together every day, and slowly became close. After college, he confessed his feelings, and we naturally started dating. After we started working, he said he was worried it wouldn’t be safe for me to rent a place alone. He specially bought a house near my company and asked me to move in with him. Everything between us seemed to happen so naturally. The eighteen-year-old Olivia Reed probably never would have imagined this day with Fred, even if you killed her. Pushing down the chaotic thoughts that suddenly surfaced, I carried the cake and my carefully chosen gift, and knocked on Aunt Carol’s door. The moment she saw me, Aunt Carol warmly pulled me inside. After I confessed about the arranged marriage, she was utterly shocked. “But you and Fred, you two…” Yes, everyone who knew us thought we were a couple. This was why I wanted to leave quietly. I didn’t want to hear their constant sighs of regret. “We’re not right for each other,” I explained, offering no further details. But Aunt Carol took my hand, her eyes filled with pain. “Olivia, I know you have a good heart. There are things you can’t easily say, but I know in my heart. I heard about what happened at the wedding and with Chloe. You’re a good child, and Fred has wronged you. I had planned to make him apologize to you, right in front of you, and give him a good talking to, but since you’ve already made up your mind, then that scoundrel Fred is simply out of luck. You’re going to your parents to enjoy your life. It’s just… it breaks my heart to let you go.” “But you and Fred have been together for so many years. Does he know about this?” All these years, without my parents by my side, I had developed a tolerant and patient nature. Lying in the hospital bed, unable to find a single friend or relative to stay with me, I hadn’t cried. When Fred blamed me, when I saw him and Chloe together, I hadn’t cried. When I decided to give up on Fred, I hadn’t cried either. Yet now, tears uncontrollably welled up, as if all the grievances and sorrow of these past days had finally found an outlet. “I’ll tell him later,” I said, slowly lowering my head, letting the tears fall, one by one, onto the back of my hand. As for Fred… he never intended to marry me anyway. Telling him or not wouldn’t make much difference. Aunt Carol hugged me again and again, her eyes filled with sorrow. “How could this happen? Fred is so foolish, he used to love you so much.” I didn’t want to continue the conversation. After comforting Aunt Carol for a moment, I prepared to leave. But as I opened the door, I came face to face with Fred and Chloe. Chloe was clinging to his arm, her small face still flushed with excitement, and she planted a loud kiss on Fred’s cheek— “Fred, dearest, this trip made me so, so happy! You’re just too, too good to me!!!” Seeing me, Chloe awkwardly shrunk her neck, hiding behind Fred. “Olivia, you’re here too. Don’t misunderstand… I was just so happy.” Hearing Chloe’s words, Fred shielded her, his eyes wary as he looked at me. “She’s young and doesn’t know any better. Don’t hold it against her.” I curled my lips in a self-deprecating smile. The old Olivia Reed, seeing this, would surely have cried all night, wouldn’t she? Thank goodness, thank goodness, I truly didn’t love him anymore. “Hm, no offense taken.” Unwilling to get entangled with them, I mumbled a perfunctory reply, then turned sideways, trying to leave. But Fred deliberately blocked the exit. He frowned, scrutinizing me, as if searching for something on my face. But all he saw was my serene profile. There wasn’t a single hint of jealousy or sadness. This was simply too strange! His doubt intensified. He felt as if something was slipping from his control. The unease made him involuntarily clench my wrist. I couldn’t break free, and I didn’t want to cause a scene at Aunt Carol’s birthday, so I let him pull me inside. Aunt Carol’s eyes were still red. Seeing Fred and Chloe, she didn’t give them a kind look. “It’s a family birthday. What kind of behavior is this, bringing an outsider?” Chloe stiffened, her pitiful gaze falling on Fred. Fred finally released me, walking over to place their gifts together. “Aunt Carol, Chloe is my assistant. How can she be considered an outsider?” After saying that, he cast a cold glance at me. I knew he was angry about me blacklisting Chloe and about my supposed insulting messages to her. I pretended not to see, lowering my head and picking at my food. During the meal, he kept peeling shrimp for Chloe, his sharp gaze occasionally flicking my way. It was always like this… ever since Chloe appeared. Whenever I upset him, he would deliberately do things that made me sad and humiliated. And every time, I would become jealous, break down, apologize to him, begging him not to be angry. A wave of bitterness spread from my heart. My fingertips trembled, and my chopsticks accidentally fell to the floor. Aunt Carol glared fiercely at Fred, then handed me a new pair of chopsticks. Fred, across from me, had a glint of perverse satisfaction in his eyes. I ignored his gaze fixed on my face. Composing myself, I put a piece of plum-glazed ribs into my mouth. Two drama queens, let them act as much as they want. Aunt Carol’s cooking, though, would be hard to find once I left. Seeing this, Fred snorted, his actions growing even more outrageous. Not until Fred gently wiped Chloe’s mouth, their noses almost touching, did Aunt Carol finally lose her temper and slam her chopsticks down.

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I was secretly married to the movie star for five years. His life was a whirlwind of rumored affairs, yet he never once acknowledged me as his wife. On a variety show, when the others asked if I had ever been in a relationship, even he joined in, smiling. “Professor Thorne, I have plenty of reliable men in my circle. Should I introduce you to one?” In my past life, on this very day, I couldn’t contain my anger and flashed my wedding ring. The rising starlet, Celia White, ran out in tears. On the surface, Damien Sterling said nothing, but afterward, he grew colder and colder towards me. When I was rushed to the operating room, hemorrhaging during my pregnancy, he was at a Michelin-star restaurant, celebrating Celia’s birthday. When I begged him for help after being assaulted by thugs Celia had hired, he just watched, his expression detached. It was only then that I understood. In his heart, I was nothing more than a decoration, something to be kept hidden in the shadows. Reborn into this life, I simply smiled. “I have. He’s not in the industry. We’re getting married at the end of the month.” 1 A chorus of gasps rippled through the room. No one had expected me to announce my relationship on a live show. Damien’s face darkened, the cup in his hand deforming under his grip. He started to speak, but Celia, sitting beside him with a radiant smile, beat him to it, her eyes wide. “Wow, Professor Thorne, you’re so secretive! If you hadn’t lost at Truth or Dare, were you planning on hiding this from us forever?” It was a live variety show, and Celia’s words instantly sent a tidal wave through the online chat. 【Sucks to be Joanna Thorne’s fans! Your idol just ditched you for a relationship!】 【Hehe, at least our Celia is focused on her career! So driven! Men, please step aside!】 【??? Why would we feel ditched? Joanna is an actress. She conquers us with her talent. She’s already won every major award. What’s wrong with her being in a relationship? Unlike a certain someone who still hasn’t made a name for herself!】 【Besides, our Joanna has said for years that she’d find someone when the time was right.】 I smiled faintly. “Secretive or not, at least I’m the main event.” In my past life, I had always believed Celia didn’t know about my relationship with Damien, that she was just another victim of his deception. It wasn’t until I was on my deathbed, and she came to flaunt Damien’s affection for her, that I learned she had known from the very beginning. Celia’s expression flickered, but the other guests didn’t notice. They crowded around me, their curiosity piqued. “Joanna, who is he? Do you have a picture for us?” “He’s not in the industry, but to be worthy of our Joanna, I’m so curious!” I smiled. “He’s a bit camera-shy. I’ll introduce you when I get the chance.” The moment the words left my mouth, a derisive snort cut through the air. Celia raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with a challenge. “Professor Thorne, don’t tell me he doesn’t actually exist, and you just made him up. After all, you’re not getting any younger. It would be pretty embarrassing if you didn’t have someone special in your life. Don’t you think so, Mr. Sterling?” Celia batted her eyelashes at Damien, sticking out her tongue playfully. I clenched my fists. The next second, I heard Damien’s clipped, cooperative “Mm.” Celia’s smile grew wider. I mocked myself internally. Just a moment ago, I had still been holding onto a sliver of hope. The other guests tried to smooth things over. “Joanna, don’t be upset. Celia is just joking!” “This is Professor Thorne’s private life. We shouldn’t be prying.” I was about to speak when a man’s voice came from the doorway. “Excuse me, is Joanna here? I’ve come to pick her up.” 2 All heads turned. A young man stood in the doorway, one hand casually tucked into his pocket. His black hair was styled in soft curls that swept across his forehead, his brow as sharp as a chiseled ridge, his face fair and strikingly handsome. When our eyes met, I was taken aback for a moment. He smiled at me. “Joanna, work’s over.” The live chat exploded. 【HOLY CRAP, WHO IS THIS GUY?! HE’S SO HOT! Is this Joanna Thorne’s non-celebrity boyfriend?!】 【Damn, I thought Joanna was lying! But her boyfriend is actually here to pick her up!】 I stood up from my chair and gave a small wave to the others. “I’ll be going then.” From the moment I stood up, I could feel a pair of eyes fixed on me. I didn’t look back. Just as I was about to walk out the door, Damien’s cold voice stopped me. “Joanna Thorne!” I paused and turned to him. “Yes, Mr. Sterling?” His face darkened, his eyes pooling with displeasure. Celia’s lips curved into a smile. “It’s my birthday party tonight. Damien is celebrating with me. Are you coming, Professor Thorne?” I glanced at Damien. He said nothing. “No.” I turned away and walked out. “Happy birthday. I have other plans.” 3 The intense gaze on my back didn’t vanish until I had settled into the backseat of the car. I turned to the man beside me and thanked him. “Thank you, Julian.” Julian Ford replied, “Don’t mention it, Professor. I was watching the live stream and just happened to be passing by.” I smiled faintly, not pressing further. He didn’t ask any more questions either, just said, “Where are you headed? I’ll give you a ride.” I gave him my home address. We arrived quickly. Before I got out, Julian took out his phone and gave it a little shake. “Professor, can I get your number?” I hesitated for a moment. He chuckled softly. “Who knows, maybe one day I’ll need your help with something.” Hearing this, I nodded and took out my phone. “Okay.” After exchanging numbers, Julian drove off. I turned and went inside. This house, the one Damien and I had bought before we got married, wasn’t huge, but it was filled with our memories. Back when we had breaks from work, we used to curl up in this house, playing games and binging TV shows. I hadn’t moved after we got married. But now, Damien rarely came home. The moment I stepped inside, my manager’s call came through. “Joanna, check the trending topics! Now!” 4 【Damien Sterling x Celia White, Official Relationship Announcement!】 【What a perfect match!】 I had thought that in this new life, my heart would be as still as water. But the few short lines on the screen still stung my eyes. 【Damien Sterling V: Let me introduce you all to my girlfriend. My one and only. @CeliaWhite】 【Celia White: Here’s to a long future together, always by Mr. Sterling’s side~】 I had been with Damien for five years, married for five years. I had waited ten years for an official announcement. And now, Damien had given it to someone else so easily. My manager, Kate’s, voice continued. “There are rumors online that Celia White is the other woman! This is Damien’s way of defending her! How could he? But Celia is the other woman, isn’t she? You and him have been married for years, and he never…” “Kate.” I cut her off, my voice soft. “When will the visa be ready?” Kate went silent. “You’ve really decided to quit and go abroad?” I nodded. Ten years ago, I had given up my dream for Damien Sterling. Now, I wouldn’t let him ruin my life a second time. 5 Damien and I were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together. My parents died when I was young, and I was a shy, introverted child living under someone else’s roof, constantly bullied by the other kids. Damien would always stand in front of me, protecting me, fighting my battles. Until we were fifteen. His parents’ business went bankrupt, and they took their own lives, leaving him alone with a mountain of debt. He was devastated, on the verge of suicide several times. I was the one who held him, who comforted him. We were each other’s light in the darkness, depending on one another to survive. When we were eighteen, I received an offer from a prestigious university abroad, the school of my dreams. That day, Damien said nothing. He just held my hand, his eyes red, and stood with me all night. After that night, I rejected the acceptance letter and, instead, accepted an offer from a talent scout, entering the entertainment industry. I was going to pay off Damien’s debt. He was still young, with a long road ahead of him. He couldn’t be dragged down by this. But the entertainment industry wasn’t an easy place. I auditioned and acted day and night, taking on any job I could get. I drank at dinner parties until I vomited blood. Finally, in my fifth year, after a hit show, I managed to clear the Sterling family’s debt. People close to me asked if it was worth it. At the time, watching Damien cook for me every day, staying by my side, I felt it was all worth it. But now… A notification on my phone pulled me from my thoughts. It was a call from Damien. I thought for a moment and answered. His voice was cold. “Quite the actress, aren’t you? Hiring other men to put on a show? Trying to make me jealous? You miscalculated. I know how much you love me. I wasn’t provoked at all.” I held the phone, saying nothing. A familiar female voice came through the line. “Damien, come cut the cake with me!” Damien answered, “Coming.” Then, to me, he said, “You know Celia and I have a new show coming out. Once it’s aired, I’ll break up with her. Don’t overthink it. Be good and wait for me at home tonight. I’ll bring you your favorite dish.” 6 My mind drifted back. Damien had entered the entertainment industry after being spotted by a director while visiting me on set. I had immediately refused on his behalf. Damien’s dream was to be a research scientist. If he started acting, his dream would be over. But I never expected Damien to go see the director privately. Afterward, he had held me, his eyes red. “Joanna, I don’t want you to live a hard life with me. I want to make a lot of money, to make your life better and better.” From then on, Damien gave up his dream for me and focused on his career in entertainment. As we both got busier, we saw each other less and less. The first time a rumor about him surfaced, he took a five-hour flight to be by my side, holding me and apologizing, telling me it was a misunderstanding and he would handle it. He told me not to worry. When I suggested we go public with our marriage, he said it would affect his career and hurt his fans, that it wasn’t the right time. But he promised me that I would be his only wife, the only one by his side. In the end, I thought of his career and let it go. Until later… The appearance of Celia White. She was at a banquet, about to be taken advantage of, when she ran, fell into the water, and was rescued by Damien. She seemed like a delicate white flower, pure and innocent, lying soaked in Damien’s arms. That night, they were all over the trending topics, with gossip accounts running wild. That time, Damien didn’t say a single word.

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I am a lady’s maid in a world obsessed with perfect pairings. In my last life, my mistress, Lady Arabella, forced me into a marriage with her fiancé’s valet, all “for my own good.” She’d said it with a bashful smile. “My horse is a match for the Viscount’s horse, my dog for his dog… so it’s only right that my maid should be paired with his valet. It will show the world how perfectly matched the Viscount and I are.” The man was a philandering brute who beat me when he was drunk. I was trapped in a living hell. But when I pleaded with my mistress for help, she turned a blind eye. When I finally escaped, she personally dragged me back to that monster’s side. “You are such an embarrassment to me,” she said, her voice like ice. “If you weren’t so defiant, a good man like Sterling would never have laid a hand on you.” In the end, six months pregnant, I was beaten to death. … When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that same moment. Lady Arabella was holding my hand, her face beaming with warmth. “Aurora,” she said, “I have found you the most wonderful match. When you marry Sterling, you can continue to serve me for the rest of our lives.” “You’ve been with me since we were children. I’ve always thought of you as a sister. I am to marry Viscount Langley, so it is only fitting that my handmaidens marry his retainers. It’s a match made in heaven, isn’t it?” My heart seized. A dull ache spread through my chest, and I had to fight to keep my body from trembling. I was reborn. It was the exact same scene as before. Last time, seeing her so delighted, I couldn’t bear to disappoint her and agreed. But my marriage was hell on earth. Sterling was indeed a loyal valet to his master, but he was a degenerate in his private life. Though he kept no mistresses openly, he had a legion of “confidantes” scattered across the city. When he drank, his personality twisted, and he would beat me until I was black and blue. I suffered two miscarriages at his hands. And my mistress, the one who had sworn to be my champion if I ever faced any trouble, ignored my desperate cries for help. “Aurora, you are too headstrong,” she would lecture. “How can a man like Sterling ever love a woman like that? What man doesn’t have a few dalliances? You must learn to be soft, gentle, and submissive if you want to keep his heart.” She had found her perfect match. She and the Viscount were a picture of marital bliss, their love the talk of the town. Meanwhile, I was drowning, tormented daily. With her tacit approval, Sterling grew ever more brazen. The beatings became more frequent, and he would often withhold food as punishment. Through it all, she demanded I plaster on a smile and listen to her tales of domestic happiness. I finally escaped, only to be hunted down by her and her men. She personally returned me to Sterling’s clutches. And so, six months pregnant with my third child, I died under a torrent of his enraged blows. This time, I will not be her pawn. I will not repeat the mistakes of my past. Lady Arabella was still chattering excitedly, pulling me down to sit beside her. She dangled a jade pendant from her waist for me to see, her cheeks flushed. “Look, the Viscount and I have a matching everything. The other day, he gave me a parrot and kept one for himself—a perfect male and female pair.” “And this pendant, it’s a set of a dragon and a phoenix. He has one, I have the other. I was just thinking, perhaps I should buy a male dog to send to the Viscount. It would be a perfect match for my little Snowball, and they could have puppies.” Snowball was a tiny female terrier. My mistress had owned her for three years. Ever since she had met her future husband, every mosquito that flew past had to be paired with one from the Viscount’s estate. She once had four personal maids. Chessie was already married off. Two months ago, she dispatched both Artemis and Calliope to marry two of the Viscount’s other men. One was sent to a desolate border post, never to be seen again. The other’s new husband died in battle a month later. She cared nothing for our wishes, obsessed only with creating these “perfect pairs” with the Viscount’s household. Now, the other maids in the manor were terrified at the prospect of being assigned to her service. Though I already knew the answer, I had to try. “My lady,” I began tentatively, “I am already betrothed. My fiancé, Thomas, and I have been promised to each other since childhood.” “My lady… must I marry Sterling?” The blush on her face faded. She frowned at me, her expression one of utter bewilderment. “That Thomas is just the son of the head butler. What future does he have? How could he possibly compare to the personal valet of a Viscount?” “Besides,” she continued, her tone firming, “I have four maids, and the Viscount has four valets. It’s a perfect set. It is fate. In two weeks, when I am married, you will be married alongside me.” I pleaded with her for three days. At first, she tried to persuade me gently, extolling Sterling’s virtues. By the end, her face was a mask of cold resolve. “Aurora, do not be ungrateful. I am offering you this wonderful match because I am fond of you. As for that Thomas, forget him. I have already asked my mother to arrange a marriage for him with one of her second-tier maids. They will be wed quietly and quickly.” Staring at the woman I had served for more than a decade, a chilling numbness spread through my heart. If she could be so cruel, then I would be ruthless. I had already sacrificed myself for her once in my past life, fulfilling my duty as a servant. This life was for me and me alone. I went to her elder sister, Lady Cordelia. Viscount Langley had originally been Cordelia’s fiancé. But after Cordelia’s mother died, her stepmother—Arabella’s mother—had schemed to swap the betrothals, leaving Cordelia engaged to the Viscount’s younger brother, a notorious rake. While the Viscount was brilliant and respected, his brother was a wastrel. In my last life, Cordelia’s marriage had been miserable. She died in childbirth after delivering a frail baby girl. “My lady,” I said to Cordelia, “I can help you marry the Viscount. On the wedding day, with the help of your maids, we can switch the bridal carriages. Once the deed is done, no one can say a thing. Besides, you were the one who was supposed to marry the Viscount in the first place. This is simply setting things right.” Now that Arabella had married off her other maids, I was the only one she trusted. I knew I could arrange the switch. Cordelia had been living under her stepmother’s thumb for years, simmering with resentment over the stolen betrothal. She considered my proposal for only a day before agreeing. In exchange, she promised to grant me my freedom. We began our preparations for the double wedding in two weeks. On the surface, I continued to serve Arabella as diligently as ever. One day, she sent me to a remote courtyard to pick peach blossoms. “My lady,” I said, confused, “we have peach trees in our own garden. Why must I go to that deserted courtyard?” Her eyes darted away for a second. “Just do as you’re told. The blossoms in this garden are for viewing. No one sees the ones in the old yard, so go pick them for me.” I went as ordered. The courtyard was overgrown and desolate. “Aurora.” A man in a fine green livery stepped out from behind a crumbling wall. It was Sterling. A sly smile played on his lips as his eyes raked over my body. My blood ran cold. My hand clenched into a fist as the horrific memories of my past life flooded back. “Sterling,” I said, my voice sharp. “What are you doing here? Who allowed you into the private courtyards of the manor?” “Why, your future mistress, of course,” he said, his voice smooth as oil. He lunged forward and grabbed my wrist, his smile turning lecherous. “Aurora, we’re to be married soon. Surely you won’t deny me a kiss…” He pulled me into a forceful embrace. Panic seized me. I dropped my basket and struggled wildly. “Let go of me! Get off!” Picking flowers was just a pretense. Arabella had arranged a private meeting for us. A chill shot up from the soles of my feet, freezing me to the core. She was so cruel. Though I was just a maid, I came from a respectable family. I would not endure such humiliation. In my struggle, I bit his arm, hard. Sterling yelped in pain and released me. Then, his face twisted in anger, and he slapped me across the face. “You bitch! How dare you bite me!” Crack. The blow stunned me for a moment. I stumbled back, nearly falling. My cheek was already swelling, hot and painful. I didn’t hesitate. I turned and fled. When Arabella saw me return with a bright red handprint on my face, she frowned, setting down her teacup with a clatter. “What happened? Sterling told me you bit him for no reason. Do you have any idea what a wonderful opportunity I created for you? Why are you so unappreciative?” The questions I wanted to scream died in my throat. All that remained was a profound, icy coldness. The answer was perfectly clear. She had never truly respected me. She didn’t see this as a humiliation, as an assault on my dignity. “My lady,” I said, my voice eerily calm, “Sterling tried to force himself on me. That is why I bit him. And I must ask you not to do such things again. It is improper for a man to be allowed into the inner courtyards. If word got out, my reputation would be ruined, but more importantly, it could damage yours.” Her face flushed with anger and embarrassment. “When two people are in love, isn’t it normal to get carried away? Why must you be so difficult?” She flicked her sleeve in frustration and stormed out. “Fine! I wash my hands of this! No good deed goes unpunished.” The entire manor was abuzz with festive preparations for the two weddings. I was busier than anyone. The wedding gown, the handkerchiefs, the slippers for the in-laws—all the things the bride was supposed to make herself were handed to me. “We are like sisters,” she’d said sweetly. “It doesn’t matter who does it. I trust you more than anyone.” With so little time, I was serving her during the day and sewing late into the night, getting less than an hour of sleep. My eyes were raw and sore. She checked my progress daily, allowing no rest. One day, to my surprise, Thomas came to find me.

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In front of the orphanage, Lauren Murphy, the charity case I’d sponsored for years, stared at me with pure disgust. “If you don’t let Aaron get in the car, I’m not going to your house either.” If this had been before, my love-addled brain would have caved instantly. I would have meekly given in. But this wasn’t before. I had been reborn. Looking at the two people who had orchestrated my brutal death, a tidal wave of fury crested within me, transforming into a cold, sharp smile. “Then stay. You can rot here with your precious Aaron.” My voice was laced with ice. “After all, trash belongs in the trash heap.” … Everyone froze. They were used to the old me, the loyal lapdog who followed Lauren Murphy around, practically begging her to live at my house. The old me who, just to make her happy, had come here with her to invite Aaron to become the adopted young master of the Sterling family. The same two people who, when I fell ill, conspired to murder me and seize my inheritance. I remembered my last days, sick and helpless, as Lauren Murphy, heavily pregnant, stood over my hospital bed with Aaron at her side. “Did you really think this baby was yours?” she’d sneered. “If I hadn’t been pregnant with Aaron’s child, do you think you would have ever had the chance to be my husband?” Aaron had wrapped his arm around her, his face a mask of mockery. “How could my Murphy possibly carry the child of a moron like you? It would probably be born an idiot.” Now, seeing them standing before me, alive and well, I wanted nothing more than to tear them limb from limb. Go to my house? Go to hell. Aaron’s arrogant expression flickered with panic for a second before he regained his composure, looking down his nose at me. “Julian Sterling, so what if your family is rich? It’s all inheritance your father left you. You think you’re so great, flaunting the money he died for? If it weren’t for Murphy, I wouldn’t waste a second of my time on a brainless fop like you.” In my past life, he had said the same thing. I’d thrown away my pride and begged him for half an hour before he’d “reluctantly” agreed to come home with us. He’d acted as if he were the true heir to a great fortune. I let out a derisive snort and dropped the suitcase I’d been holding for him. It burst open, spilling a few designer clothes onto the pavement. In my past life, I’d carried his luggage like a servant while he and Lauren Murphy had swaggered into my car as if they were the masters of the house. After getting them settled, I had been about to get in the car, drenched in sweat, when Lauren Murphy had slammed the door shut. “I hate the smell of sweat,” she’d said. “You can ride in another car.” She was never kind to me, but she always justified it by saying, “I’m only so blunt with you because I see you as one of my closest friends.” Funny how she never used that “bluntness” on her dear “brother” Aaron. I kicked at the scattered clothes on the ground. “Is the orphanage that well-funded these days? Or are these just some high-quality fakes bought by someone desperate to look rich? You pretend to despise money, yet you’re obsessed with brand names. You really want to have your cake and eat it too, don’t you, Aaron?” His face flushed red, and he opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a dismissive glare. “My father’s death was an accident, but the money he left me is more than I could spend in several lifetimes. Other people can only watch and be jealous.” Seeing the envy twisting his features, a weight lifted from my chest. “What can I say? I was born lucky. Unlike some people, born to be thrown away by their parents.” I remembered him in my past life, sitting by my bed, sipping the nourishing broth meant for me. “Julian, you’re dying anyway,” he’d said with a click of his tongue. “No amount of this stuff will help you. I’ll enjoy it for you. No need to thank me.” The urge to kill him right then and there was overwhelming. The sight of him made me sick. I turned to get in the car, but Lauren Murphy grabbed my sleeve, her face dark. “Julian Sterling, how could you say that to Aaron? Apologize to him right now! Or I’ll never forgive you!” I shoved her away as if she were something filthy. She thought she still had me under her thumb. “Can’t you just put away your spoiled rich-boy attitude for once?” she snapped, her voice rising with impatience. “We had a deal to bring Aaron home. Are you backing out now just because he opened the car door for me? If you’re going to be this selfish and petty, then I have nothing more to say. I’m not leaving Aaron here by himself. You figure it out.” In my past life, whenever I displeased them, she would threaten to leave, and I would always cave. She thought it was her irresistible charm, but my concessions were born of a love that had made me blind and foolish. Lauren Murphy had spent a lifetime chipping away at my love until nothing was left. Now, she was nothing more than a pile of sickening filth to me. I rolled my eyes, mimicking her tone of disgust. “You’re the one who needs to figure it out. Go back to the Sterling mansion and enjoy your life of luxury, or stay here and suffer with your precious Aaron. The choice is yours. But I’m sure a person as loyal and righteous as you would never abandon her dear brother, right?” She was cornered, speechless. Just then, the orphanage director, Mr. Hoffman, chimed in. “Julian, this is your fault.” Mr. Hoffman was not only the honorary director of the orphanage but also the chancellor of our university, with a seven-figure salary—all funded by my family’s Sterling Group. Yet here he was, lecturing me. “The paperwork is all done, and now you’re backing out. Have you thought about the trouble you’re causing? You’re in your twenties, yet you’re still so immature! Is this what we teach you at the university? Now, stop this childish tantrum and take Lauren Murphy and Aaron home. No more nonsense!” After my father’s death when I was just a teenager, Mr. Hoffman had subtly inserted himself into my life as a father figure. Over time, he’d started to believe he actually was my elder and could scold me as he pleased. Looking at his self-righteous face now, I could only laugh. “Mr. Hoffman, as they say, don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Is Lauren Murphy paying your multi-million-dollar salary? Is Aaron? No. The Sterling family is.” In my past life, under their influence, I’d developed a people-pleasing personality, always backing down, always giving in. They’d walked all over me. Now, I was going to make it clear that they couldn’t just take what they wanted anymore. “Mr. Hoffman, if you can’t remember your place, if doing your job is too much trouble, you can resign. Or I can fire you.” I slammed the car door, leaving them staring in stunned silence, and told the driver to go. As the trees blurred past the window, the fury in my heart began to subside. I thought of my father, of the empire he had built, and I slapped myself, hard, several times. In my past life, I was a lost cause, a love-sick fool. I had failed them. This time, I would not repeat my mistakes. But when I got home, I found Lauren Murphy, Aaron, and my mother, Cassandra, sitting on the sofa, looking for all the world like a happy family. Before I could say a word, my mother stood up, walked over, and slapped me across the face. “Bullying your peers, disrespecting your elders! Julian! You are a disgrace to your father’s name! Do you think you can just do whatever you want out there with no consequences? As long as I’m alive, you will not use your power to bully people! First, apologize to Murphy and Aaron! Then, go to Chancellor Hoffman’s house and bow to him!” My cheek burned, swelling instantly. Lauren Murphy shot me a look of contempt, while Aaron’s eyes glinted with provocation. I pushed my tongue against the inside of my throbbing cheek and looked at my mother, my voice cold. “Use my power? I am the rightful heir of the Sterling family. I am the power. But you… you hit your own son for the sake of outsiders, without even asking what happened. What kind of mother are you? I’m not apologizing to anyone. Now, get this trash out of my house!” My father had established the orphanage to build good karma for me, and as a child, my parents often took me there to volunteer. I used to chase after Lauren Murphy, while my mother took an instant liking to Aaron. She’d even wanted to adopt him back then, but my father had refused. “I have one good son, Julian,” he’d said, hugging me. “That’s enough.” My mother was a kept woman, a canary in a gilded cage. She didn’t dare defy her benefactor, so she’d just bring Aaron extra gifts every time we visited. The designer clothes in his suitcase were from her. In my past life, when I’d asked her to adopt Aaron to please Lauren Murphy, she had smiled at me with genuine happiness for the first time. But now, I would not allow these vipers to defile my home. I told them to get out, but Aaron just smirked, stood up, and took my mother’s arm. “Mom, he’s just a spoiled brat. Don’t mind him. Let me give you a shoulder rub. Getting angry is bad for your health.” Lauren Murphy looked at me as if she were delivering a royal decree. “Auntie has already adopted Aaron. From now on, you and Aaron are brothers. You’re both young masters of the Sterling family, so stop trying to one-up him all the time. Oh, and Aaron will be starting at our university soon. You know how snobbish everyone is there, so Auntie and I have decided to tell everyone that Aaron is the younger Sterling son, who was raised abroad and just returned.” She then took Aaron’s arm, smiling sweetly. “Come on, let me show you your room. Auntie had them give you Julian’s old room. It’s the biggest and sunniest in the house.” Their shamelessness was astounding. I raised an eyebrow and stopped them. “Stay right there.” My voice was dangerously low. “Who gave you the audacity to be so presumptuous in my house?” I put extra emphasis on the words “my house.” Aaron’s brow furrowed. He strode over to me. “Julian, you’re being incredibly childish! Mom has already agreed. When an elder has spoken, you have no say in the matter!” Lauren Murphy chimed in with a huff. “Julian, I know you’re just jealous because Aaron is so much better than you. You’re afraid that Auntie and I will like him more, so you’re trying to stop this. But being so domineering will only backfire.” She stared at my face, a smug look on hers. “It will only make… us… despise you even more.” She waited, expecting to see me crumble, like a dog being disciplined. In my past life, their constant emotional abuse had turned me from a cheerful boy into a sensitive, insecure wreck. I’d even convinced myself that my life was only meaningful if they liked me. But my life was not theirs to dictate. I crossed my arms and gave them a mocking smile. “Oh, really? Well then, go ahead. Despise me all you want. Just get out of my house first. Then you can despise me to your heart’s content. Like I give a damn.” Lauren Murphy blinked, stunned. Aaron’s eyes were like daggers. “Julian, you’re just trying a new trick to get Murphy’s attention, aren’t you? But I suggest you quit while you’re ahead before you make a fool of yourself. You don’t want to end up crying and begging for her to look at you again, like a pathetic dog. It’s so embarrassing. Oh, right, you’ve never had any shame when it comes to chasing Murphy. I heard everyone at school calls you the ‘Simp Master,’ right? What a disgrace to the Sterling name.” Buoyed by his own twisted logic, Lauren Murphy lifted her chin again, confident that she had seen through my “hard to get” charade. “Some people are born into money, but they still reek of cheapness. Not like our Aaron. He’s so charming and well-liked wherever he goes.” I had no interest in arguing with dogs. My gaze fell on Cassandra, who had remained silent. “Are you just going to stand there and listen to these outsiders slander your own son?” Cassandra’s face was pale. She gritted her teeth. “Outsiders? I told you, I’m adopting Aaron. You deserve to be scolded for being so arrogant!” Seeing me raise an eyebrow, she quickly added, “But if you can get along with Aaron from now on, there’s still a place for you in this family. Julian, your father is gone. You have no other relatives in this world. I’m adopting Aaron to keep you company. Don’t be so ungrateful…” In my past life, Cassandra had trapped me in a vortex of emotional neglect, making me cling to her like a drowning man to a life raft. But when Lauren Murphy and Aaron had intentionally run me over with a car, and I had screamed for her help, she had simply turned up the volume on the TV, annoyed that my cries were disturbing her show. She’d even given a false testimony, claiming I was a jealous lunatic who had thrown myself under the car. She’d used the Sterling Group’s legal team to help the two murderers walk free. Now, she was trying the same trick again. But I wasn’t falling for her lies anymore. “Well, Mom, since you have a new son, why don’t you and your new son get out of my house together? And you don’t need to go to the company anymore either. After all, everything the Sterling Group owns was left to me, and me alone.” Not just the house, but all the assets of the Sterling Group, all the shares—my father had left them all to me. All Cassandra got was a room full of designer bags and clothes. In my past life, she had managed my assets until I came of age. I had been so lost in the emotional prison they had created for me that I’d never even thought about my inheritance. But I understood now. I had the money. That was enough. Before coming home, I had already been to the family trust and taken control of my assets. From now on, Cassandra would need my approval to spend a single penny of the Sterling family’s money. I clapped my hands twice, and two teams of security guards entered the room. “Throw this trash out.” Lauren Murphy and Aaron were still shouting, not understanding what was happening. As Lauren Murphy was being dragged away, she screamed at me, “Julian! You’ve gone too far this time! I’ll never forgive you, not even if you get on your knees and beg!” I clicked my tongue, and someone immediately gagged her. Aaron roared, “Stop! Do you know who I am? I’m the young master of the Sterling family! I’m your boss! Who dares to touch me! Don’t you want your jo— ah!” The guards were more efficient with him. A single punch to the face, and he spat out blood and two teeth. Cassandra was white with rage. “Julian! How dare you do this to your own mother! You will be struck by lightning! Aren’t you afraid of being cursed by everyone? Aren’t you afraid of divine retribution?!” She raised a hand to point at me, but a guard grabbed her finger and bent it back. A sharp scream echoed through the room. After they were thrown out, I had all their belongings burned in a bonfire on the lawn. Seeing her luxury goods go up in flames, Cassandra tried to rush into the fire, weeping. Aaron, still in the dark, held her back. “Let him burn it! Mom, I’ll buy you new things!” Lauren Murphy, furious, jumped up and down outside the gate. “Julian! If you want my forgiveness, you’ll have to piece this pile of ash back together!” I ordered the guards, “Take these barking dogs and dump them in the middle of nowhere.” That night, I fell asleep in front of my father’s memorial tablet. I woke up the next morning and lit three sticks of incense, bowing my head reverently. I had a feeling my father had given me this chance at a new life.

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I was a queen for three years, and a Queen Dowager for twenty. When I died, I was surrounded by my children and grandchildren, and the lords of the court wept at my funeral. By all accounts, a life such as mine should have held no regrets. And yet, when I was granted a second life, and my grandmother asked me who I would choose for a husband, I did not choose the Crown Prince again. Instead, I chose the Duke who guarded the Northern Marches. Let the north be the north, and the capital be the capital. My only wish was that our paths would never cross again. 1 In the Willow Courtyard, the air was so still you could hear a pin drop. Tendrils of frankincense smoke rose from a bronze censer, blurring my grandmother’s sharp, assessing gaze. She studied me from head to toe, as if trying to see straight through to my soul. “You have always favored the Prince,” she said, her voice a low command. “Why not choose him?” I knelt on the cold stone floor, my voice steady. “It is precisely because I favor him, Grandmother, that I cannot marry him.” “I will not break my own heart, waiting for a man who will never truly return to me. I will not let my spirit wither. I beg you to grant my wish.” A long silence stretched, and my legs began to ache from kneeling. Finally, I heard my grandmother let out a long sigh, her voice softening. “Very well. I shall go to the palace tomorrow and inform His Majesty. I will ask him to decree the marriage for you.” I bowed my head to the floor, my forehead touching the cool stone in a final gesture of gratitude. In this life, I would not marry Prince Apollo again. 2 Two days later, the King’s Road was as bustling as ever, the streets thronged with people. I had gone out for my usual errands when my carriage was blocked by the Prince himself, riding out from the palace. He reined in his warhorse and leapt from the saddle, the motion as fluid and graceful as a dancer’s. He was, as always, devastatingly handsome. But his brow was furrowed in a deep scowl, and when he spoke, his voice was ice. “I heard you begged the King for a betrothal. Are you that desperate, Seraphina?” His cold, dismissive gaze stung my eyes. I turned my head slightly, avoiding his stare. “Rest assured, Your Highness,” I said softly. “The marriage has nothing to do with you.” His face grew even darker. He let out a chilling sneer. “Nothing to do with me? I am the one who held you, who saved you. Who else would have you now? Had I known you would be so clinging, I would have left you to the bandits all those years ago.” I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady my voice. “Your Highness, please do not be angry. It is truly not—” “Enough!” he snapped, cutting me off. His temper flared, and he vaulted back onto his horse, looking down at me from his superior height. “I will marry you. I will give you the title of Princess. But do not dare to dream of anything more.” With that, he glanced back at the modest green carriage trailing behind him, called out, “Let’s go,” and galloped away, leaving me to choke on the dust kicked up in his wake. As the green carriage passed, a pale, delicate hand lifted the curtain, revealing a familiar profile. It was my half-sister, Gladys. I shook my head with a bitter smile and turned to get back into my own carriage. We had been childhood friends, he and I. I didn’t know how we had come to this. He used to be the one who protected me most, always calling me his “dearest Sera.” At royal banquets, if he didn’t see me, he would pester my grandmother until he found me. When did it all change? I suppose it was after he saved me from those bandits. He had held me then, his voice tight with panic, terrified that I had been truly harmed. But when he heard the Queen suggest I be betrothed to him, his entire demeanor had shifted. From then on, whenever someone mentioned our unofficial engagement, his face would darken, and he would ignore me. At first, I didn’t understand why. It wasn’t until my past life, on the night my half-sister married the Duke of Ancora, that I finally understood. The Prince got drunk that night, and he spent the entire evening staring at a miniature portrait of Gladys. I finally realized he had already given his heart to someone else. It just wasn’t me. In my previous life, after the Duke died, my half-sister was sent to guard the royal tombs. The last time they saw each other, they stood on opposite ends of a grand hall during a court banquet, their roles and statuses a chasm between them, staring at each other in silent, heartbroken agony. Their love was truly a thing of profound depth. So, in this life, I decided to grant them their wish. 3 When I returned to the manor, my grandmother was already waiting for me. She was reclining with her eyes half-closed, a handmaiden kneading her shoulders with a gentle, rhythmic pressure. She looked no different than usual, but I knew. I knew my grandmother was in a foul mood. As I expected, she opened her eyes at the sound of my footsteps and gave me a thorough look-over. “Are you hurt anywhere?” A warmth spread through my chest. I shook my head. She sat up straight, her face hardening. “The Prince sent a messenger. He intends to take Gladys as his royal consort. The Queen Dowager has already given her blessing.” Gladys. My half-sister. I froze. This had not happened in my previous life. Where had I made a mistake? My grandmother was still smiling, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I had intended to make her a proper wife, but she seems eager to throw herself away as a mere mistress. If I hadn’t promised the King to keep your betrothal a secret for now, I would love to see the look on her face when she finds out…” I remained silent. In my past life, my grandmother had married me to the Prince and Gladys to the Duke, making her a Duchess. In this life, knowing my grandmother’s cunning, if I married the Duke, she would have schemed to make Gladys the Crown Princess. But Gladys had chosen to be a consort instead. A lesser position. Her previous words sparked a thought. “Grandmother, do you know why His Majesty wants to keep the betrothal a secret? And for how long?” My grandmother considered this for a moment. “Since the Queen’s passing, the King has not looked upon the Prince with the same favor as before. I suspect he has grown wary.” She looked at me. “It won’t be for long. The Duke returns to the capital next month. The decree will be announced then.” I silently counted the days. It was only a couple of weeks. A relief. Gladys’s ceremony was set for three days’ time. The Prince, eager to have her by his side before his own grand wedding, wanted to both please his beloved and deliver a sharp blow to my pride. Because it was a rushed affair for a mere consort, the ceremony was far from grand. But the Prince came to escort her personally, even bringing a pair of wild geese he had hunted himself—a traditional and deeply personal betrothal gift. It was clear he was giving Gladys as much dignity as he could. The normally serene Willow Courtyard was adorned with lanterns and colorful silks, a festive air all around. But if you looked closely, you’d see that none of the fabrics, none of the chests of gifts or finery, were of the true, deep crimson reserved for a royal bride. Even the veil on Gladys’s head was a soft rose-pink. I watched the joy on the Prince’s face slowly crack, then force itself back into a smile. His gaze drifted down to their intertwined hands. One feigning festivity, the other feigning shyness. Noticing my gaze, he lifted his chin defiantly and squeezed the woman’s hand beside him even tighter. I coolly shifted my gaze away, ignoring his childish games. It wasn’t until we had left the courtyard, out of our grandmother’s sight, that the Prince pulled me viciously into a corner. “Seraphina, when did you become so jealous and petty? You wouldn’t even allow Gladys to wear crimson, afraid people wouldn’t know she is just a consort? Do you know how much this wounds her? How is she supposed to hold her head high?” My brow furrowed in anger. I wrenched my arm from his grasp. “Your Highness, is it not proper for a consort to wear rose-pink?” “How could that be proper? Gladys is—” “She is what?” I stared at him, a half-smile on my lips. His face flushed a deep red, and he was rendered speechless. I knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to say that Gladys was the woman he cherished above all others, that she shouldn’t be treated like anyone else. I spoke slowly, deliberately. “If Your Highness feels she has been wronged, you are more than welcome to petition the King to make her your Princess.” It was common knowledge that consorts wore rose-pink. I didn’t know what he was making such a fuss about. If he was so worried about his precious love being slighted, why hadn’t he dared to ask the King to make her his wife sooner? In the end, it was simple fear. As I expected, he flew into a rage. “So this is the character of the great Duke’s daughter,” he sneered. “Since you refuse to give Gladys face, then on our wedding day, do not blame me for refusing to give you any.” I said nothing. Just then, Gladys came looking for him. I stepped aside, inviting him to leave. “Your Highness, please.” He snorted and stormed off. But Gladys did not follow him immediately. She stopped and looked at me, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. “The Prince is blaming you because of me again, sister? I am truly sorry—” She leaned in close, her voice a ghost of a whisper. “Tell me, sister, who do you think will be queen in this life?” 4 So, Gladys was reborn, too. I closed my eyes and let out a soft sigh. In our last life, she had married the Duke of Ancora. He was a soldier, a cold man who knew nothing of tenderness. Every time Gladys saw me, she would glare at me with seething hatred, as if I had stolen her grand destiny. So, in this life, she contacted Prince Apollo ahead of time, securing her place as his consort. She wanted to enter the East Wing of the palace before me, to lay her plans early. The threads of fate had diverged. But little did she know, I had no intention of ever marrying the Prince. All her schemes against me were destined to fail. I didn’t leave the manor in the following days, instead staying home to prepare for my own wedding. I had always felt a pang of guilt for the Duke. He, the Prince, and I had all grown up together. But my heart had only been for Apollo, and the Duke was a man of few words, so I often overlooked him. I still remembered him standing in the gloom of the dungeons, his dark eyes filled with an emotion I couldn’t comprehend. “Sera,” he had asked, “if I became king, would you marry me?” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The Duke commanded a powerful army, and he was suspected of treason. Apollo had used my name to lure him to the capital, where he was ambushed and killed. That was his end in our previous life. I hope that this time, we can both have a better fate. I tied off the last stitch and unfolded the crimson bridal veil I had just finished embroidering with twin griffins and silver clouds. I blew on it gently. My grandmother always said my needlework was clumsy, so I had taken lessons from the master embroiderer at The Gilded Needle. This was my finest work. The Duke… he would like it, wouldn’t he? My heart was full of hope. I never imagined my creation, my heart’s blood, would be so utterly desecrated. When I went back to The Gilded Needle to retrieve the veil, the embroiderer smiled at me. “The Prince took it,” she told me. Seeing my face fall, she looked at me, confused. “His Highness heard you had embroidered a veil for him and was so delighted he wanted to see it. Is… is something wrong, my lady?” I closed my eyes, suppressing the rage that surged within me, and bolted out of the shop. After asking countless people, I finally found where Apollo was. A royal guard tried to stop me, cautiously explaining that the Prince and his consort were flying a kite and it would be inappropriate for me to intrude. I pushed him aside with a cold laugh. On a sprawling green lawn, a woman was flying a kite, her pale hand stretched high. Soon, another, larger hand covered hers, and the woman leaned into his embrace with a shy, coquettish laugh. My sudden appearance interrupted their flirtatious display. The Prince’s face soured. He eyed me warily. “What are you doing here?” I held out my hand, getting straight to the point. “The veil. Give it back to me.” His brow furrowed. “It’s gone. Just make a new one.” My eyes widened in fury. Before I could speak, Gladys let out a delicate laugh. She covered her mouth with a silk handkerchief, her beautiful eyes dancing as she pointed to the sky. “Sister, your veil is truly beautiful. It makes the most unique kite in the entire capital, doesn’t it?” Following her gaze, I felt a jolt, as if struck by lightning. The kite she held by a string was made from my bridal veil. The crimson silk was a stark slash against the brilliant blue sky. Even the silver clouds I had so painstakingly stitched were vividly clear. Apollo— He had used the work of my hands, the proof of my heart, to please his mistress. Blood rushed to my head. I felt as if I were drowning in a sea of fire, the grievances of this life and the last pouring out like a flood, threatening to crush me. Losing control, I shoved him with all my might, my voice nearly a scream. “That was mine! How could you?!” “Are you mad—?” He stumbled back, his angry question dying on his lips the moment he saw my crimson-rimmed eyes. He had never seen me so emotional. For a moment, he was stunned, at a loss. After a long pause, he scowled, his voice hard. “Fine. It was made for me anyway. As long as it pleased me, that’s all that matters. Why make such a scene? This one is gone. Just go and embroider a new one.” I trembled with rage, forcing back the tears that pricked my eyes. I choked back the lump in my throat and stared at him, my voice clipped. “Who told you… this veil was embroidered for you?” He froze. After a moment of hesitation, the flicker of guilt on his face was replaced by mockery. “So you’ve learned to play hard to get, Seraphina. The royal decree is imminent. Can’t you just behave? It’s just one veil. On our wedding day, you’ll still be begging me to lift it. Must you act as if this is the end of the world?” I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm the storm in my chest. I turned, took the bow and arrow from a nearby guard, and in one swift motion, drew the string taut. With a whoosh, the arrow shrieked through the air. At almost the same instant, the kite dancing in the sky ripped apart. With the sound of a blade tearing through silk, the crimson veil was utterly destroyed. The Prince stared at me in disbelief, too shocked to speak. Gladys, beside him, shrieked and buried her face in his chest as if terrified. In the nearly frozen air, I stared at him, my face devoid of all expression. “Between you and I, Your Highness, we are like this silk. Severed and broken.” Without another word, I threw down the bow and turned to leave. Behind me, I heard Gladys’s tearful voice. “Your Highness, it’s all my fault. I thought sister would be happy to see you had turned her heartfelt gift into a kite… I didn’t realize… She seems so angry. Should you go and console her?” I felt a burning gaze locked on my back. After a brief silence, I heard a man’s hoarse, irritated voice. “Let her be. She’ll get over it once we’re married.”

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