The night before my wedding to the Crown Prince, my father brought home the daughter he’d had with his mistress. “Your sister is a celestial beauty, far more striking than you. With her by your side in the Prince’s household, she will surely help you secure his favor.” I found it almost laughable. I was, after all, her mother’s killer. How could she possibly help me? And just as I expected, on my wedding day, she stood beside me in a breathtakingly simple white gown, stealing the gaze of every person present. Except for my husband, the Crown Prince. 1 The mistress my father cherished more than his own eyes was my mother’s half-sister, Liana. Every day, she would come to our estate to play the part of a devoted sister to my mother, all while secretly carrying on an affair with my father. When my mother was eight months pregnant with her second child, the royal physician declared it would be a boy. On the day of my mother’s labor, Liana chose that exact moment to confess, weeping, that not only had she become my father’s mistress, but she had borne him a daughter eight years prior. Eight years ago. The second year of my parents’ marriage. The facade of a loving marriage shattered into a lie. The bond of sisterhood became a cruel joke. My mother, consumed by grief and rage, gave up and died, leaving me with a wailing infant brother. I was eight years old. I grew up overnight. I trailed behind the head nurse, learning how to manage my mother’s funeral arrangements, never leaving my infant brother’s side, soothing and caring for him. My father was at his private villa, celebrating the Mid-Autumn Festival in blissful harmony with Liana and her daughter. On the seventh day after my mother’s death. I dragged my frail, sick body to the villa my father had provided for Liana. As always, she greeted me with a look of maternal affection. “My dearest Viola, in a few days, your father will bring me home as the new lady of the house. You’ll have to start calling me Mother then.” The feigned warmth couldn’t hide the triumph in her eyes. She stroked my face and called for her daughter, Beatrix, and her son, Alistair. “Come, come and meet your elder sister.” Beatrix and Alistair called me “sister,” their expressions a mixture of curiosity and unease. Liana teased me. “It’s the first time you’re meeting your brother and sister, so of course you didn’t bring a gift. When you’re back at the manor, you must remember to make up for it. Even though you no longer have a mother to teach you, you must still learn to be proper.” I smiled, my fingers caressing the cold steel of the blade hidden in my sleeve. “Aunt,” I said, “come closer. I have a white jade hairpin for you.” She bent down without suspicion, her eyes crinkling with self-satisfied amusement. A second later, the smile vanished. Her eyes froze as she clutched the gushing wound in her neck. Her mouth opened in disbelief, but no words came out. She convulsed on the ground, kicking up dust, her bloodshot eyes staring at me in horror. Beatrix and Alistair shrieked. I calmly wiped the blood from the blade and smiled. “A welcome gift from your sister. Do enjoy it.” 2 Beatrix was sobbing hysterically, but with the knife in my hand, she didn’t dare attack me. “Father… Father won’t let you get away with this! He’ll make you pay for my mother’s life!” He won’t. If word got out that I had murdered my own stepmother, his career would be over. For his own sake, he would find a way to clean up this mess. Beatrix didn’t understand what a pragmatic, self-serving man her father was. But I did. 3 My father suppressed what happened at the villa, giving Liana a hasty burial. He came at me with a blade. “You are so young, yet so vicious! Go to hell!” My infant brother was crying incessantly. Just as I had instructed, my nurse brought my grandmother, and only then was my life spared. But I couldn’t escape a fate worse than death. He put something in my food. Within a month, I was meant to go mad. He hated me for killing the love of his life. And I hated him for destroying mine. That was my mother. The mother who carried me for ten months and risked her life to give birth to me. The mother who, for eight years, loved, cherished, and doted on me. I hated my father, and he hated me. We were no longer father and daughter, but enemies. In the dead of winter, I threw myself into the frozen lake. I survived by a hair's breadth, carving out a sliver of hope for myself. My aunt, my mother’s sister-in-law, finally had a pretext. She arrived with her household guards and took me and my frail younger brother away. Before I left, I told my father, “If you dare bring Beatrix and Alistair into this house to raise them, I will go to the magistrate and beat the drum of injustice. I will tell the world how you carried on with your wife’s own sister and drove her to her death. Then I will confess to the murder of my aunt. My death is a small matter, but the entire Valerius name will be ruined because of me. The careers of the men, the marriages of the women—all of it will be finished. Father, as long as I am alive, you will never bring them through the gates of this house.” My father was overcome with rage. He slapped me across the face and squeezed my neck, his fingers digging into my flesh. “How did I raise such a disobedient, unfilial creature! How dare you!” I smiled at him, not struggling. Slowly, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he released his grip. He muttered under his breath, his eyes filled with a deep-seated fear. “You’re a lunatic. A complete lunatic!” I smiled sweetly. “I am not a lunatic, but you are a coward. Father, I dare to risk my life openly for my mother. But you don’t dare to openly avenge the woman you supposedly loved. You are less than me.” 4 With my aunt present, all the dowry my mother had brought with her was carefully inventoried and taken with me. My grandmother was displeased but could say nothing. She didn’t want my brother to leave. That night, my brother broke out in a red rash and a high fever. My aunt created a huge scene, causing my grandmother to faint from rage. My father, rubbing his temples in exhaustion, waved his hand dismissively. “Take him. Take them all! He’s not the only son I have! Get out! All of you, just get out!” My aunt prepared the chambers my mother had used in her family home before she was married. I settled there with my brother and my nurse. In return for my aunt’s kindness, I took my cousin’s place as the companion to Princess Seraphina. Princess Seraphina was known for being arrogant and difficult. The companions who had gone before me had all returned in tears, tormented beyond recognition. Now it was my maternal family’s turn, and my aunt couldn’t bear to see her own daughter suffer. And I had no desire to stay with the Valerius family. Our goals aligned perfectly. On my first day at the palace, I was forced to kneel. The reason? My hairstyle was unbecoming. I smiled and accepted the punishment. The second day, I was hung from a tree. Again, I smiled and accepted the punishment. Until I fainted and was rescued by the Crown Prince. When I awoke, the Prince was scolding Seraphina. I pushed through the pain and weakness, kneeling to bow my head. “It was I who broke the cup and offended Her Highness. That is why she punished me.” The Prince’s lecture faltered. Seraphina bit her lip and looked at me. He took a deep breath and rapped Seraphina on the head. “She is not your servant. She is your companion, the daughter of a nobleman. Her mother was the daughter of the Marquis of Fairview, and her father is a Master of the Royal Household. You cannot be so unreasonable.” Seraphina snorted. “The daughter of a minor official. So what? What does it matter if I have her beaten to death?” “Seraphina!” The Prince’s voice was low, strained with something like pity. “Her mother just passed away. Be kinder to her. She, like you, has lost her mother. You should understand her sorrow.” At that, Seraphina fell silent, her gaze toward me softening slightly. The Prince helped me up and smiled. “There, now. Rest. You are weak. I’ve had the royal physician prepare a tonic for you. Seraphina is just a bit spoiled, she means no harm. Don’t hold it against her.” “Her Highness is very kind to me.” From that day on, perhaps because Seraphina saw that I, too, was motherless, she treated me much better. She no longer punished me on a whim. I followed her to her lessons every day. The King doted on Seraphina, granting her the special privilege of studying alongside the princes. I attended her, learning the arts of governance, the ways of rulers, and the philosophies of a hundred schools of thought. Seraphina had no interest in these things; I wrote all her essays and arguments for her. She loved the spotlight and the empty praise. My writing earned her the commendation of her tutors. When it came to my own assignments, I deliberately held back, appearing mediocre. My loyalty to her was not blind obedience. I catered to her whims, but on matters of great importance, I would fight her to the death. She would be furious at the time, screaming and hitting me, but after suffering the consequences and losing face, she would remember my advice and appreciate me for it. Over time, she grew dependent on me. At the new Queen’s birthday feast, Seraphina got into a conflict with the new Queen’s daughter, the Seventh Princess, and was pushed into a pond in the royal gardens. The Seventh Princess was imperious. “No one is to save her! You think your mother is still the Queen? Your mother is dead! My mother is the Queen now! How dare you still be so arrogant! I’ll have anyone who tries to save her beaten to death!” The eunuchs and maids present were too terrified to move, only daring to sneak off to find the Prince and the King. By the time they returned with help, Seraphina would have been nothing but a corpse. Watching Seraphina flailing desperately in the water, I knew my chance had come. I jumped in. The rescue did not go smoothly. She couldn’t swim, and as I tried to save her, she latched onto me, pushing me under in her panic to climb up. I swallowed several mouthfuls of water and nearly drowned myself. When the King and the Prince arrived, they saw me, a complete mess, dragging an unconscious Seraphina onto the bank. The Prince’s face was pale. He was usually so gentle and warm, but this was the first time I had seen his eyes so cold and sharp. The Seventh Princess took a fearful step back, but then, remembering her mother was now Queen, she straightened her spine. The Prince took Seraphina into his arms and reached a hand out to me, but I collapsed back into the water, deliberately hitting my arm against a sharp rock and breaking it. He dove in without a moment’s hesitation and pulled me out. The King interrogated the servants. A young eunuch trembled as he recounted, “It’s not that we didn’t want to save her, Your Majesty, but the Seventh Princess forbade it. We did not dare to disobey.” The Prince’s face was like ice. He walked straight to the Seventh Princess and slapped her hard across the face. His voice was frigid. “Father, my mother is gone. If Miss Valerius had not defied her threats and jumped in to save Seraphina, Seraphina would be with my mother now.” The King’s eyes filled with guilt. He sentenced the Seventh Princess to a year of confinement. After the royal physician had set my arm, the Prince dismissed the maids attending me and brought me a bowl of medicine himself. He blew on it gently. “Miss Valerius, thank you for what you did today. You saved Seraphina. The King will reward the House of Valerius.” I said, “If there is to be a reward, could it be for my younger brother?” He stared at me, stunned. I continued, my voice laced with bitterness, “Your Highness, I must confess… my father has other children with a mistress. After my mother’s death, my younger brother and I have been under the care of my aunt at the Fairview estate. My brother is still so young, and though my aunt cares for him, I worry for him day and night.” As I spoke, tears fell like pearls from my eyes. “My brother and I are all each other has in this world. I cannot rest easy. If I am truly to be rewarded, I hope His Majesty can bestow some honor upon my brother, so that my aunt and uncle will value him more.” The Prince’s expression was complex. He set down the medicine and handed me a handkerchief, his own eyes red-rimmed. He was only fourteen himself. The year the former Queen died, he was only eight. He had to navigate this treacherous court with a clueless Seraphina in tow, fending off the schemes of the King’s favored concubines, caring for his sister, and shouldering the heavy burden of being the Crown Prince, never daring to slacken in his studies for a moment. He lived in constant fear that a single misstep would cost him the throne. “Miss Valerius… Viola. May I call you by your name?” My eyelashes trembled. I looked at him with red-rimmed, bewildered eyes. He picked up the medicine and offered it to me with a smile. “Viola, don’t cry. From now on, you will help me look after Seraphina, and I will look after your brother outside the palace for you. How does that sound?” My eyes lit up. “Really?” I asked, a hopeful surprise in my voice. He smiled warmly. “Of course.” I smiled back. It’s working. He had remembered my name. Viola. 5 The Prince visited me every day. When Seraphina recovered, she came to see me with a bowl of chicken soup, her demeanor incredibly awkward. “Look at you, so thin. Anyone would think I was mistreating you!” she grumbled, setting down the soup. I saw the fresh burns on her fingers and the back of her hand and blinked. She was terrified of pain. She asked, her tone brusque, “I was so awful to you, why did you still save me? Weren’t you afraid of dying?” I forced down a spoonful of soup. “Her Highness has been very good to me.” She turned her face away, her expression stubborn and proud. “Hypocrite.” But for the next two weeks, she didn’t miss a single day of bringing me soup. The taste improved from watery and bland to rich and delicious. Her attitude toward me shifted from disdain and contempt to one of genuine regard. She started to open up to me. Once my arm healed, I resumed my lessons with her. She no longer brought other maids with her, and she stopped making me carry everything. In fact, she even started carrying things for me. The Prince contacted me daily to ask about Seraphina. After discussing his sister, he would always ask about me, a word or two of concern. He occasionally brought me news of my brother, along with small gifts from outside the palace. The brilliant political essays that earned Seraphina so much praise from her tutors… others might not know, but he knew they were my work. He often discussed history and classics with me. And I, in turn, burned the midnight oil, studying relentlessly, not daring to be complacent for a moment, terrified that the opportunity I had fought so hard for would vanish. My mother was dead. My father was someone else’s father. My brother was young, and I was his only family in this world. I had to be strong. Spring turned to autumn, and six years passed. I came of age. For my coming-of-age ceremony, Seraphina found me a magnificent gown that shimmered like captured starlight. The Prince handed me a gift box. “Open it.” Inside was a simple wooden hairpin. Seraphina scoffed. “Brother, you’re the Crown Prince of the entire kingdom. Can’t you do better than that?” But I was delighted. “I love it.” Of course I do. He carved it himself. How could it be the same? That night, I gave him a sachet I had embroidered and confessed my feelings. He was taken aback, his ears turning red. He gently rejected me. “I only see you as a sister.” I lowered my eyes and nodded. “I see. Alright then.” I turned and left. The next day when we met, he avoided me. I acted perfectly normal, showing no awkwardness, and treated him just as I always had. His stiff expression annoyed Seraphina. “Brother, what’s with the long face? You think you’re our grim-faced old tutor?” I chimed in with a smile. “Yes, Brother, is something troubling you?” He paused, a frown creasing his brow. Seraphina looked up. “Why are you calling him Brother all of a sudden?” I answered innocently, “He said he sees me as a sister.” Seraphina burst out laughing. “Fine by me. I’m happy to have you as a sister.” My eyes curved into crescents. Only the Prince, Nicholas, kept his lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze on me dark and unreadable. I stopped embroidering personal items like shirts for him. He had a recurring throat ailment and was a picky eater. Every year, I would pick and dry chrysanthemums for his tea, carefully selecting the best ones to send to him. I had studied under the royal physician, learning many medicinal recipes, and spent my days trying to cook him delicious, healthy meals. For six years, I had woven myself into the fabric of his life. From grand political theories to the smallest stitch, in his life and his studies, I was everywhere, meticulously attentive. And now, I cut it all off. For two weeks, I was polite to him in public, and distant in private. He finally couldn't stand it anymore. He tried to speak to me with the same warmth and familiarity as before. I smiled and interrupted him. “Brother, it’s late. Perhaps another day. I’ve already told my family that Your Highness sees me as a sister. Please don’t be angry with me. I am alone and have no one to rely on. I was hoping to borrow your name for a bit of protection. Tomorrow, I will be returning home to prepare for my marriage.” The smile froze on his face. His jaw tightened, his fingers unconsciously rubbing together, then clenching into a fist, veins standing out. “Who are you marrying?” he asked, the words forced out, each one landing with a heavy, difficult weight. I beamed. “I don’t know yet. The exam results will be out soon, won’t they? My uncle plans to let me choose from the top candidates. I think that young man from Silverwood, Julian, seems very promising. My uncle says that although Julian’s family is poor, his writing has great integrity and style. I was reluctant at first, but then I read his essays.” The more I spoke, the more animated I became, gesturing excitedly, my face practically splitting with a joyous smile. Nicholas’s eyes darkened, the warmth draining from him, replaced by an icy frost. His fingers trembled slightly. I babbled on. “Brother, you have no idea how beautiful Julian’s calligraphy is, and his essays are so well-written! Reading them felt like meeting a soulmate in a foreign land. I wish I could meet him immediately.” Nicholas’s smile was glacial. “Scholars are often fickle. Viola, you have spent your life in the palace and met few men. Do not be deceived by mere words.” I nodded obediently. “You’re right. It must be because I haven’t met enough men. Seeing you every day, I mistakenly thought I was in love with you.” I feigned a look of deep, conflicted thought, my cheeks flushing as I whispered shyly, “My aunt sent me a portrait of Julian. He’s so handsome, with a face like polished jade and an air of scholarly grace. I like him so much. I can’t wait to meet him.” The last traces of a smile vanished from Nicholas’s lips. His eyes were cold and dark, his expression unreadable. I glanced at the darkening sky and let out a small “Oh!” “Thank you for your kindness to me and my brother all these years. Thanks to you, my brother is now studying at the Royal Academy. I am eternally grateful.” I turned and waved cheerfully. “You should go back now. I need to pack. I have to go to bed early so I can wake up and get ready tomorrow. It wouldn’t do to meet Julian with dark circles under my eyes!” He suddenly grabbed my hand, his grip like iron, his eyes blazing. I looked at him, confused. “Brother—” He cut me off, his voice sharp with anger. “Don’t call me that.” I made myself look small and timid. “Your Highness,” I whispered. He stared into my eyes, his dark lashes trembling. From a distance, the sound of eunuchs and maids greeting the Queen drifted toward us. He seemed to snap out of a trance and released my hand. I turned and my eyes met Seraphina’s cold, hard stare. She’s finally here. The jewelry I sent wasn’t wasted. Back in her chambers, Seraphina sat on the main seat and ordered me to kneel. As I knelt, a teacup flew from her hand, grazing my forehead. My hairpin came loose, my hair tumbling down. A flicker of pity crossed her eyes, but her voice was sharp with accusation, her own eyes red. “You got close to me just to become the Crown Princess, didn’t you?!” I lowered my eyes. “I am leaving tomorrow. My family has already arranged another match for me.” I wiped the blood from my forehead. “Seraphina, I owe you nothing. Whether my feelings were real or false, I gave you my heart.” Tears streamed down her face. “Get out!” she screamed. I slowly stood up and retrieved the bag I had already packed. I gave the protective amulet I had embroidered for Seraphina to a maid I was friendly with. Before she could speak, I turned and walked out, my eyes red, my silence heavy. In the drawer of the room lay the birthday gift I had prepared for Seraphina. The late Queen had embroidered a cloak for her. After the Queen’s death, the Seventh Princess had deliberately ruined it. Countless nights, I had seen Seraphina clutching that cloak, sobbing for her mother. There were hundreds of skilled embroiderers in the palace, but not one dared to repair it. It wasn’t a lack of skill; they knew her temper and were afraid to take the job. They all claimed their skills were insufficient, terrified that if their work wasn’t perfect, they would be beaten and thrown out of the palace. I had already repaired half of the cloak, intending to give it to her for her birthday. Seraphina seemed cruel, but she was all bark and no bite. She would feel pity for me. For years, I had meticulously crafted my role, playing the part she needed, unconditionally fulfilling her emotional needs. A sheltered little princess, how could she ever escape the tender trap a hunter had so carefully prepared for her?
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