On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, Julian Hart, defying his own family, arrived with his true love in tow to break our engagement. “Eva may be of humble birth,” he declared, “but she is the love of my life. Do not cling to this, Seraphina. You’ll only tarnish your own name.” Fearing I would fall into despair, my parents sent me away to the city of Lyria for three years. When I finally returned to the capital, Julian and Eva had been married for two years. And at my own welcome banquet, Julian Hart—the man who had been willing to cast his family aside for Eva—pointed at his wife with a look of utter disgust and snarled. “Who allowed you to come out and embarrass me? Get back to the estate, now!” 1 Upon learning of my return to the capital, my dearest friend, Princess Isabelle, insisted on throwing a grand banquet in my honor. She was a royal princess, and we had been close for many years. When Julian had broken our engagement, she was the first to stand up for me. So, my carriage didn't even stop at my own family’s estate; it drove straight through the gates of the princess's manor. Isabelle grasped my hands, turning them over and over, her brow furrowed with concern. “Seraphina, you know Julian is the Marquis of Blackwood’s only son. As audacious as his actions were back then, he was still destined to inherit the title.” I had heard as much in Lyria. The old Marquis had forgiven Julian, and he was once again the celebrated and respected heir. “Are you still…” Isabelle began, her voice trailing off. She was worried I still held a grudge. With tensions rising on the border, the Emperor was relying heavily on the Marquis of Blackwood to maintain peace. For me to remain at odds with Julian was not a wise move. I simply smiled and shook my head. It no longer mattered to me. Besides, I had returned to the capital for a different reason entirely—my own betrothal. Many guests attended the banquet. Among them were the ladies of the court I was friendly with, and of course, those who came only to spectate and gossip. Everyone wore a pleasant smile, and on the surface, the atmosphere was one of harmonious celebration. Halfway through the feast, a servant’s voice rang out from the entrance. Julian Hart, the heir of Blackwood, had arrived. A sudden silence fell over the hall. Every head turned in my direction. I took a slow, deliberate sip of my tea, my face a mask of indifference, and glanced at the man stepping into the hall. He shrugged the snow from his shoulders, and a maidservant immediately scurried forward to remove his heavy cloak. When he looked up, his cool, distant eyes met mine. For a moment, we were both lost in the past. Three years ago, for the sake of the humbly-born Eva, he had caused a terrible scene, demanding our engagement be dissolved. I, a daughter of the most respected house in the capital, was to be cast aside. I remember trying to reason with him, aware of the prying eyes and wagging tongues. “An engagement is an alliance between families, arranged by our parents,” I had counseled him. “This is a matter for them to decide.” But Eva, hiding in Julian’s arms, had interjected, her voice laced with false vulnerability. “Sister, must you use my lack of parents to shame me? It is clear you have no intention of letting us go. You only use your parents as an excuse.” Eva was an orphan, living at the mercy of her brother and his wife. She was a commoner, a girl who could be trampled on by the daughter of a mere county bailiff. Marrying into a marquis’s house was a fantasy beyond her wildest dreams. Julian, of course, believed her. He was convinced I was merely feigning reason to prevent him from pursuing his one true love. “Seraphina de Valois, drop the hypocritical act,” he had sneered, his face a mask of disgust. “You say that only because you know my father will never agree!” His words grew uglier, designed to humiliate. “Even a beaten dog knows when to flee. Seraphina, have you no shame? Must I spell it out for you?” “Eva may be of humble birth, but she is the love of my life. Don't think your noble status gives you the right to act so high and mighty!” As if that wasn't enough, he looked me up and down and let out a cold, cruel laugh. “And you call yourself a highborn lady. This desperate, clinging act… you’re no better than a common harlot.” His words sent shockwaves through the assembly. And with them, he shattered the decades-long bond between the House of Blackwood and my own, the House of de Valois. On that day, he destroyed my coming-of-age ceremony and turned me into the laughingstock of the capital. 2 The Marquis of Blackwood himself had seized a ceremonial cane and, in front of everyone, had Julian held down and beaten twenty times to appease my family’s honor. Julian’s back was a bloody mess, but he clenched his teeth and didn't make a sound. The hatred in his eyes, however, burned hot enough to turn me to ash. As if I were the one he should hate. In the end, it was Eva who fell to her knees at my feet, weeping. “It is my fault, my lady, all my fault! I will leave Lord Julian. From this day forward, I will never appear before you again!” she cried. “I beg you, Lady Seraphina, in your great mercy, please spare him!” She was always skilled at such theatrics. It was how she’d first truly caught his eye. Dressed in a simple white dress, looking fragile and helpless, she had appeared on the main road. Julian’s horse, moving at a gallop, could not stop in time. He had played the hero, leaping down to sweep her small, slender form into his arms. She had gazed up at him, her eyes wide and full of adoration, tears streaming down her face, before fainting. I saw it all. And through her pale, tear-streaked face, I could have sworn I saw a flicker of a smile. She was an expert at using her pitiable act to put me in an impossible position. Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I maintained the dignity of a highborn lady and bowed to the Marquis. “I understand now that I am not worthy of the House of Blackwood. I am willing to step aside and allow the heir to find his own happiness.” Ultimately, our parents agreed to cancel the engagement. I didn’t want our families to become mortal enemies, and I still held onto some sliver of our past affection. So I brought healing salves to see Julian. He was lying face-down on his bed, a wretched sight, but when he looked at me, his eyes were filled with triumphant satisfaction. “You’re smarter than you look, Seraphina,” he rasped. “If you had dared to harm Eva then, I would have pursued you to the ends of the earth.” With that final, crushing humiliation, the bond of our childhood friendship was torn to shreds. My grace and composure had saved my family’s honor, but my own reputation was still damaged by Julian’s actions. His cronies even placed bets on how long it would be before I swallowed my pride and begged for the engagement to be reinstated. I stopped attending any banquets. I shut myself in my room for days on end, refusing invitations for spring outings and my friends' birthday feasts. My parents saw my pain, and their hearts broke for me. Fearing I would succumb to melancholy, they sent me to my maternal grandparents’ home in the city of Lyria. I was gone for three years. 3 Looking at Julian now, he had lost the wild arrogance of his youth. The black brocade of his tunic made his handsome face seem almost pale, like carved jade. He didn't resemble the gruff, burly Marquis; he favored his late mother. There was a time when I, too, had been captivated by his good looks, secretly thrilled by our betrothal. But that was a lifetime ago. Julian faltered for a second under my gaze, then a smile touched his lips. He strode towards me. I turned to Isabelle, whose expression was grim. I knew then that no invitation had been sent to the House of Blackwood. To arrive uninvited was a serious breach of etiquette. Julian first bowed to Isabelle, then turned to me, his tone intimate. “You’ve returned, and didn’t send a word? I would have ridden out to meet you. The snows have been heavy in the capital; the roads are treacherous.” He spoke with a familiar, complaining air, as if we were back in the old days, before a third person had ever come between us. I narrowed my eyes, a flicker of irritation rising within me. Julian knew better than anyone how crucial a lady’s reputation was. A woman whose engagement had been broken, even through no fault of her own, was subject to endless gossip and ridicule. For him to act now as if nothing had happened… I couldn’t help but question his motives. Seeing my prolonged silence, Julian gave a wry smile and cut to the chase. “I was too young then, too reckless. I hurt you, and it was all my fault.” “That is why I have shamelessly come here today. I only wish to beg for your forgiveness.” He waved a hand, and a servant hurried forward with a box containing a pair of magnificent Eastern pearls. They were a special reward from the Emperor to the Marquis for quelling a rebellion. As a gift, their value was immense. Julian held the pearls up, his eyes filled with hope. “Seraphina, we grew up together. All those years of affection… you will forgive me, won’t you?” I glanced around. People were beginning to whisper. A few young nobles, eager to curry favor with the House of Blackwood, stood up. “Lady Seraphina is hardly one to hold a grudge. The young Lord worries for nothing.” “Lord Julian is a man of talent and virtue, unrivaled in the capital. For him to humble himself so… surely Lady Seraphina’s anger has subsided.” “It’s been three years! Let bygones be bygones! Lady Seraphina, be generous and forgive our young lord.” Hearing the chorus of agreement, a smirk played on Julian’s lips. My eyes swept over each person who had spoken up for him. These were the same faces, the same mouths, that had mocked me for being jilted, that had laughed at my family for failing to raise a proper daughter, that had placed bets on when I would break down and storm the Blackwood estate… And now they were telling me to be generous! Why should I be generous? Why should I forgive? I suppressed the rage simmering in my heart and, meeting Julian’s expectant gaze, I bloomed into a radiant smile. “I thank the young Lord for his concern. I have heard that you and Lady Eva have been married for two years now, your greatest wish fulfilled. I was unable to send a gift for your wedding, so please, take these pearls back. Consider them a wedding present from me, by way of your own generosity.” 4 The smile froze on Julian’s face. At the mention of Eva’s name, he instinctively turned his head away, his breathing suddenly heavy. This reluctance to speak of her surprised me. She was supposed to be the woman he cherished above all else. For her, he had ruined his reputation, lost a powerful alliance, and even defied his own family. Why was he now so unwilling to even mention her name? I glanced at the group who had spoken up for him. They had all sunk back into their seats, their faces showing awkward, half-formed smiles. Isabelle gestured for a servant to lead Julian to an empty seat. He sat in silence, then raised his cup and drained it in one go. Isabelle snorted. “A little late for regrets.” I didn’t reply. Julian was a faded memory, no longer worthy of my attention. I turned to my friends and began talking about my time in Lyria. While not as grand as the capital, it possessed a freedom and vibrancy all its own. There was no nightly curfew; the markets remained open and alive all night, illuminated by thousands of lanterns. As I spoke with a smile, I noticed Julian listening intently. Suddenly, he cut in. “The southern air certainly suits you, Seraphina. You’re far more radiant and lively than before.” “In all those years we were together, you always maintained that prim and proper facade. It made a man want to tease you.” The undisguised intimacy in his tone brought the lively atmosphere to a halt once again. Under the weight of everyone’s speculative gazes, Julian seemed oblivious to his impropriety and continued reminiscing. “One year, on a spring outing, your kite got caught in a tree in my family’s garden. You could have reached it on your tiptoes, but instead you came running to me in tears…” Everyone’s eyes darted between Julian and me. I looked up and met his smiling gaze. A cold smirk touched my lips. I had no time for his sentimental recollections. “These are old stories, my lord. I’m afraid I don’t recall them. If you enjoy flying kites so much, perhaps you and your wife could go on an outing together. You could fly kites and whisper sweet nothings to each other.” I paused, letting the sting hang in the air. “Oh? Why didn’t you bring your lady wife today? You insisted on bringing her to my coming-of-age ceremony, yet now that you’re married, you hide her away? Are you afraid someone might steal her from you?” With that, I covered my mouth with my hand in a gesture of light laughter and turned to Isabelle. “What has the Lady of Blackwood become like? After captivating the young lord so completely three years ago, I imagine she must be even more beautiful and charming now.” Julian’s once-gentle expression instantly turned to ice. A chill fell over the room. But Isabelle, a royal princess, had no reason to fear him. She was clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Oh, she is quite a vision!” Isabelle declared. “It’s as if she’s tried to wear every last piece of gold and silver from the Blackwood vaults all at once.” A few of the ladies, remembering something, couldn’t help but let out a snicker. 5 At the mention of Eva, the gazes directed at Julian were no longer filled with envy and flattery, but with mockery and a hint of schadenfreude. Julian’s face darkened further. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain a nonchalant expression. “She… dislikes crowds. She is at the estate, practicing her embroidery…” He clearly wanted to change the subject, but he did so by once again aiming his words at me. “Speaking of embroidery, Seraphina, do you remember the sachet you gave me?” “‘A maiden’s hands weave threads of love, a fragrant pouch for her heart's desire…’” he quoted, a meaningful smile playing on his lips, designed to spark imaginations. “I remember the depth of our feelings back then.” This time, he had truly infuriated me. A sachet was not a casual gift. After our engagement was set, he had pestered me relentlessly, begging me to embroider one for him so he could wear it every day. I had thought, since we were to be married, that making a sachet for my fiancé was only proper. When the engagement was broken, that sachet became a symbol of a promise that never was. What I couldn't understand was why Julian was now so desperately trying to re-establish a connection with me. Naturally, I wouldn't be foolish enough to admit to it in public. I slammed my teacup down on the table with a sharp crack. “Has the young Lord misremembered? The only one who would embroider a sachet for you is your wife. Or do you think my family is so easily bullied that you can provoke me time and time again?” The threat in my voice was unmistakable. Even a fool could see I was angry. But Julian seemed oblivious. He shot to his feet, pulled the sachet from his belt, and displayed it for all to see. “Look, Seraphina! Surely you recognize this? I’ve carried it with me always! The bamboo on it, you stitched it needle by needle. You said you hoped I would rise high and remain resilient—” Just as I was about to lose my temper completely, a wave of laughter erupted from the crowd. I looked closely at the sachet, and even I couldn't suppress a smirk. There, stitched in fine red thread, were two crooked, clumsy characters spelling out the word: “Eva.” It was obvious who the artist was. Eva had spent her life under the thumb of her brother and his wife, doing hard, rough labor from dawn till dusk. She would have had no time for delicate work like embroidery. She must have learned those two characters after entering the Blackwood estate. Julian, still unaware of the mocking stares, was stroking the sachet, his gaze fixed on me with deep and focused affection. “Seraphina, now that you’re back, you won’t leave again, will you? All those years we had together… the truth is…” To prevent him from saying something even more compromising, I quickly cut him off. “The young Lord is mistaken. While I was taught needlework by my mother from a young age, in the face of such a masterpiece, I must concede defeat.” Isabelle was the first to clap, letting out a peal of laughter. Many others quickly joined in, creating a chorus of amusement. Even those who relied on the Blackwood’s patronage let out short, choked chuckles. Julian’s intimate words died in his throat. He looked around at the laughing crowd in confusion. Isabelle’s voice was just loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear. “The young Lord of Blackwood certainly has… unique taste. A sachet like that is truly not something an ordinary person could create. No wonder he is so devoted to his wife. It must be her particular… talent!” Someone immediately chimed in. “They say Lord Julian dotes on his wife. It seems the rumors are true.” “The stitchwork is certainly one-of-a-kind. Not something we common folk can appreciate.” “He must adore it, otherwise why would he wear it so proudly? My own wife’s embroidery is merely average, and I certainly don’t have the courage to display it for all to see. I am not as devoted a husband as the young lord, it seems.” The realization finally dawned on Julian. He brought the sachet up to his eyes. In an instant, his face went from red to ashen, then to a deep, dark fury. The hand holding the sachet began to tremble. “No, not this one. The one I always wore… it was clearly…” Clutching the sachet, Julian’s mouth opened, as if to explain. But before he could speak, another servant announced a new arrival. “The Lady of Blackwood has arrived—” The laughter died instantly. All eyes turned to the doorway. Even I felt a flicker of curiosity. A few moments later, a woman dripping in jewels and pearls, supported by a maidservant, walked in. 6 Eva’s head was a thicket of gold hairpins and gemstone ornaments. They flashed so brightly under the light that it was hard to keep one’s eyes open. It was as if a golden idol from the royal temple had come to life and walked into the room. I turned to Isabelle, finally understanding the strange amusement in her earlier smile. Eva was from a humble background, and having suddenly come into immense wealth, she seemed determined to wear every single piece of it on her body at once. She took a few steps forward, the ornaments on her head chiming with every move. The sheer weight of them made her shoulders tremble. Isabelle leaned in and whispered, "She made a fool of herself just like this at the Queen's birthday banquet. And she's wearing even more today than she did then. She must have done it specifically to show off for you!" I curled my lips into a slight smile, my gaze shifting to Julian. He was crushing the sachet in his fist, his eyes fixed on Eva with a look of pure loathing and fury. Eva didn't dare meet his gaze. She gave her clanking gold and jade ornaments a little shake, offered Isabelle a stiff curtsy, and then turned to me with a forced smile. “Sister, you’ve returned! It’s been so long. You must come visit me at the Blackwood estate sometime.” At the mention of her new home, a flash of pride crossed her wide eyes. Looking at her now, the last vestiges of my own resentment melted away. This garish, insecure woman was not worth a moment of my anguish. I smiled and nodded at her, but my tone was anything but friendly. “The House of de Valois has but one daughter. I was not aware I had gained a sister.” “Has the etiquette tutor at the marquis’s estate been slacking? How could she allow the lady of the house to appear in public dressed in such a fashion?” A wave of muffled laughter rippled through the room. Eva bit her lip, retorting defensively, "The young lord favored me and caused you to lose face, sister. It is only right that you hold it against me now…" Before she could finish, Julian stormed over and seized her by the wrist. Eva cried out in pain, but instead of letting go, he squeezed harder. Veins bulged on his forehead as he fought to control his rage, a stark contrast to the calm composure he had shown upon entering. "What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to stay at the estate?" Eva was in too much pain to speak, tears welling in her eyes. I cut in, my voice cold. "This is a banquet hosted by the princess in my honor. If Lord Julian wishes to display his authority or discipline his wife, he should do so in the privacy of his own home." Julian immediately released Eva and muttered an apology in my direction. But Eva was not grateful. She shot me a glare, then gently tugged on Julian’s sleeve, her voice placating. "I heard sister Seraphina had returned, and you were all here to welcome her. As it happens, the hot spring villa sent over some fresh pomegranates this morning. I thought I would bring some for everyone to try." She held up a small, simple basket as if presenting a great treasure, a jarring contrast to her own opulent attire. “My brother said that pomegranates symbolize fertility and good fortune. He said we should hurry and have a little heir!” 7 At the mention of an "heir," Eva shot another glance at me, her chin held high. But her triumph was short-lived. Julian snatched the basket from her hand and slammed it to the floor. The pomegranates rolled across the marble, and a few guests couldn't contain their laughter. The heir to the Marquis of Blackwood, one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, and his wife was parading around with a basket of fruit as if it were a rare delicacy. It was clear from the reactions that this kind of social blunder had happened many times in the three years I was gone. Julian, no longer caring about his image, finally exploded. "I told you not to leave the estate today! Are you deaf? Why must you always come out and embarrass me?" Eva looked utterly bewildered, as if she couldn't understand what she had done wrong. She clutched at her dress, trying to defend herself. "I… I heard that husbands and wives could attend banquets together…" I remembered that after the marquis’s wife passed away, the estate had been managed by her former head lady-in-waiting. The lack of a new marchioness and the well-ordered household was one of the reasons my parents had approved of my match with Julian. But from the looks of it, Eva was now in charge. Had no one taught her how to manage such a responsibility? Listening to the open disdain and mockery directed at Eva, I glanced at Julian. He was completely unmoved by her distress and fear, as if the woman being ridiculed wasn't the one he had fought so hard to marry. His eyes were filled with nothing but impatience and disgust. His face a thundercloud, Julian shoved Eva’s hand away and strode towards the door. After a few steps, he turned back, holding up the misshapen sachet, and demanded, "Where is my old sachet? Where did you hide it? Give it back to me!" Eva began to sob quietly. "I… I've been practicing my embroidery. If you don't like this one, I can make you a better one." A storm was brewing in Julian’s eyes. "I'm asking you about the old one!" Eva's voice became a whisper. "It was so old… I… I burned it…" The sachet flew through the air and hit Eva in the face. Without another word, Julian turned and stormed out of the banquet hall. 8 After the banquet, I returned to my family’s estate. My parents were overjoyed to see me. Watching them secretly wipe away tears, my own animosity toward Julian resurfaced. If not for him, I would not have been separated from them for three years, causing them so much worry. After asking about my life with my grandparents, my mother dismissed my father and pulled me aside, her voice low and cautious. “My dearest, do you still think of that boy from the Blackwood estate?” I was so shocked my head nearly shook off my shoulders. “Mother, how could you ask such a thing? After the humiliation he put me through? My heart is not so vast as to forgive such an insult.” My mother hesitated, then finally told me what had happened after I left. After our engagement was broken, the Marquis had refused to allow Eva into the family. He had even threatened to disown Julian if he married her. But Julian, blinded by love, not only moved out of the estate but also swore he would never return until he could marry Eva. The rift between father and son was deep. Less than a month later, the Marquis was dispatched to the northern frontier. Although he won the battle, he was gravely injured. Upon his return to the capital, he and Julian finally sat down for a long talk. In the end, the Marquis relented and allowed Eva to marry into the family, on one condition: they must produce an heir as soon as possible. Julian thought his dream had come true, but he never imagined his wedding day would become the biggest joke in the capital. As she recounted this, even my impeccably mannered mother couldn’t hide a smirk of satisfaction. “Eva’s brother and sister-in-law, knowing their little sister had married into high society, brought their children and a whole horde of other relatives to the wedding feast.” Before the ceremony could even begin, they started demanding a larger betrothal gift. Julian had been generous, even giving Eva a priceless jade bracelet that had belonged to his late mother. The Marquis promised them a large three-courtyard house and a thousand silver pieces after the ceremony. But Eva’s greedy family wanted more, and they feared the Marquis would go back on his word. So, in front of all the guests, they threw themselves on the floor, wailing and rolling around. The wedding of the Blackwood heir was attended by the highest nobility in the land. None of them had ever witnessed such a spectacle. The Minister of Revenue’s youngest daughter was so frightened she fainted on the spot. The scene was utter chaos. And it didn't end there.
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