A Mother's Revenge

My son ended his own life after swallowing a gold ingot. It happened the day after he discovered his fiancée in a secret rendezvous with his father. I had thought my life would continue as it had for the past twenty-eight years—peaceful, steady, uneventful. Little did I know that the storm was already gathering, waiting to strike with such ferocity that it would knock me to the ground and nearly drown me.

1

My Rowan. From the tiniest little thing, babbling his first words and calling me "Mama," he had grown into a graceful young gentleman. But now, he lay in my arms, still and silent, no matter how desperately I cried out his name. He was as peaceful as he had been when I used to sing him to sleep as a child. And finally, I understood the meaning of that phrase from the books—the piercing pain that cuts through the heart. It felt as though every bone in my body was being shattered, one by one, the sharp fragments tearing through my flesh, ripping me apart from the inside. It hurt. It hurt so much I could barely breathe.

Laurence knelt beside me, wrapping his arms around both Rowan and me from behind, sobbing uncontrollably and repeating the same words over and over: "I'm sorry."

Ha! Sorry?! I shoved him away. "Don't touch my son!"

I felt myself teetering on the edge of madness. Otherwise, how could I, the woman who had always prided herself on her grace and composure, now want nothing more than to sink my teeth into his flesh and drink his blood? "Get away from me! I don't need your apologies! I want my son, do you understand?! I want my Rowan!"

I was kneeling on the floor, my hair disheveled and wild, striking Laurence again and again, screaming until my voice gave out. "I want my Rowan! I only want my Rowan..."

Eventually, I drove Laurence out of the room. I couldn't bear to let my son's face be seen by such a man—the man Rowan had called "Father," the man who had been carrying on an affair with his fiancée. And I was even more afraid that I might lose control and kill Laurence with my own hands.

After I threw him out, Laurence didn't leave. He didn't dare come near, either. He just sat outside the door, hollow and motionless, while I sang lullabies to my son all night long. Slowly, I, too, grew calm.

2

The next morning, I opened the door. Laurence, my mother-in-law, my parents, my elder brother, and my younger sister all turned to look at me. When they saw that I wasn't about to do anything drastic, they let out a collective sigh of relief—but their eyes were all red and swollen. Laurence, in particular, looked a wreck. The back of his robe was torn to shreds, stained with blood. It seemed my mother-in-law had resorted to the family discipline the night before.

When my mother-in-law saw me, she hesitated for a long moment before managing to choke out my name. "Claire..." Her eyes welled up again.

"Mother," I said, curtsying to her. "I would like to hold Rowan's funeral at the Ashford estate. Afterward, I will send you a formal separation agreement. Please have Laurence affix his seal and file it with the authorities."

My mother-in-law had always been genuinely kind to Rowan and treated me with warmth. His death had devastated her. Overnight, her temples had turned silver with grief. This was the last bit of respect I could offer to the grandmother my son had loved so dearly.

Then I turned to my own family. They could only look at me with red-rimmed eyes and say, "Claire, you still have us. We're here with you..."

Yes. I couldn't afford to fall apart. I had to give Rowan a proper burial, a dignified farewell to this world. I still had my mother, my father, my brother, my sister... I couldn't let them grieve any more than they already had.

And of course, there was my ever-proper, ever-virtuous husband. And that innocent, carefree fiancée who made my son blush every time he heard her name...

3

Rowan's funeral went smoothly. We didn't invite many guests. It was held in a small, quiet shrine.

The only pity was that my Rowan had loved lively gatherings so much in life.

After the funeral was over, I spent another six months chanting sutras for him.

On New Year's Eve, I finally changed back into my finest robes and stepped into the carriage that would take me to the palace banquet.

When I was a child, the Dowager Empress had taken me into her care for a time after the late emperor's death. She had been grief-stricken, and I had been a small comfort to her.

So the bond between us ran deep. After Rowan's death, she had sent her ladies-in-waiting to comfort me many times, but I had been too lost in my sorrow to receive them. Yesterday, she sent word again, saying she was unwell and needed to see me before she could rest easy.

It was just as well. I had been planning to visit her soon anyway.

As soon as I entered the palace gates, I saw Mademoiselle Chen waiting for me at the entrance. She was one of the Dowager Empress's most trusted attendants.

I remembered the first time I had come to the palace as a child. I had been terrified of the unfamiliar surroundings. Before I left, my parents had warned me endlessly about how strict the palace was, how terrifying the nobles could be, afraid that my mischievous nature would get me into trouble.

So during the day, I pretended to be the perfect little angel, telling jokes to make the Dowager Empress laugh. But at night, I would hide under the covers and cry from fear.

Mademoiselle Chen must have found out somehow. She started coming to my room at night, claiming her bed was too cold and asking if she could sleep with me.

Slowly, wrapped in her warm embrace, which smelled faintly of soap, I began to adjust to life in the palace.

Eventually, I realized that the Dowager Empress was kind and gentle, nothing like the terrifying figure the rumors made her out to be. I promptly forgot all my parents' warnings and spent my days running wild through the palace. The Dowager Empress seemed delighted by my antics, so I grew even more unrestrained.

Later, the young emperor began to join in our games.

At first, he had just ascended the throne, buried under mountains of memorials and surrounded by regents who smiled to his face but schemed behind his back. The weight of it all pressed down on him, suffocating.

But he was the sovereign of the realm, and he had to bear his responsibilities. Afraid that the ministers wouldn't take him seriously, he kept his face stern at all times, trying to project authority.

Unfortunately, he was just a child back then, like me. And he was three years younger than me. How could he resist the urge to play?

So we played together. In front of the ministers, he was still the solemn emperor. But after court, we were just ordinary children, catching crickets, flying kites, and raiding birds' nests—we did it all.

The Dowager Empress only said that His Majesty worked hard and had no siblings to play with, so it was rare for him to have a companion. She let him be.

When I turned thirteen, it was time to discuss marriage, so I was sent back home.

But finding a suitable match proved to be a difficult task. It wasn't because my family was of low standing or because I was unattractive.

On the contrary, I was the eldest daughter of the Ashford family, and my appearance took after my mother, who had once been renowned throughout the capital for her beauty. I had also been favored by the Dowager Empress, who had raised me by her side for three years. These qualifications alone should have made me a match for the finest young men in the capital.

But every time we found a candidate with a suitable family background, my mother would object, saying he was too rough and didn't deserve me.

Or we'd find someone with a handsome face, but the Dowager Empress would deem his family too low-born—after all, she treated me like her own daughter.

Or we'd finally settle on the heir of a prominent marquisate, with both looks and status to match, only for the emperor to announce that the border was in turmoil and the young marquis was needed to take command...

After that, the Dowager Empress decided to take her time finding the perfect match. But she also worried that the prolonged search would invite gossip, so she frequently summoned me to stay in the palace, to remind everyone that I was still the favored daughter of the Ashford family, beloved by the Dowager Empress.

But when I returned to the palace, the emperor no longer followed me around calling me "Sister." He would sit stiffly to the side, listening to me chat with the Dowager Empress. Occasionally, when we said something amusing, he would smile along.

I thought he had grown up and no longer wanted to play with me, that he was only staying out of politeness and would soon make an excuse to leave.

But he stayed, listening to our idle chatter, until after dinner, when he finally headed back to his own chambers.

It was the same every time I visited. I supposed he enjoyed hearing about the world outside the palace. He was still the same playful, laughing boy at heart, but his position demanded that he maintain his dignity. He couldn't very well run after me like he used to—that would undermine his imperial authority.

Once I figured that out, I felt a strange sense of pride, like a mother watching her child grow up.

After that, every time I saw him in the Dowager Empress's hall, I couldn't resist teasing him. But I didn't have the heart to ruin the stern image he had worked so hard to build, so I would just smile at him knowingly.

And he, seeing my expression, would avert his gaze, refusing to meet my eyes. Finally, at his wit's end, he would cough into his fist and slowly sit down beside me, whispering in a tone that was both helpless and slightly petulant, "Sister~"

When I saw his ears turn red, I would burst out laughing.

And every time, the Dowager Empress would appear at just the right moment.

4

"Greetings to the young lady." Mademoiselle Chen spotted my carriage from afar and hurried over, curtsying.

Since Laurence and I had formally separated six months ago, it was appropriate for her to address me as "young lady."

The area outside the palace gates was bustling with nobles and officials. Mademoiselle Chen represented the Dowager Empress—how could I let her bow to me like this?

Without a second thought, I lifted my skirts and hurried down from the carriage, helping her to her feet. "You flatter me. I should be the one to pay my respects to you first. Having you come to receive me is my fault entirely."

"Not at all," she said. "I was sent by Her Majesty to receive you. It is my duty." As she spoke, she discreetly looked me over from head to toe, her gaze finally settling on my hand as it clasped hers. Her eyes reddened. "You've grown thin, young lady."

Her concern brought tears to my eyes as well. Afraid of making a spectacle at the palace gates, we both took deep breaths and carefully changed the subject, managing to hold back our tears.

A moment later, my mother and younger sister emerged from the carriage as well. Mademoiselle Chen greeted them and explained her purpose.

Since my mother held a noble title, it would not be proper for her to visit the Dowager Empress without an official summons, lest she offend the other titled ladies.

So it was decided that I, having been absent from court for so long, would go first to apologize to the Dowager Empress, and Mademoiselle Chen would escort me.

Along the way, Mademoiselle Chen filled me in on the Dowager Empress's health and the latest happenings in the palace. Soon, we arrived at the Hall of Eternal Grace.

The Dowager Empress's eyes reddened the moment she saw me, just like Mademoiselle Chen's had. She took my hands and kept repeating, "You've grown thin, so thin..." as she traced my face with her fingers. In the end, she couldn't hold back her tears. We held each other and wept for a while.

Perhaps it was because I had been holding it in for half a year, but today, I finally let it all out. Or maybe it was because reuniting with the Dowager Empress after so long had lifted my spirits somewhat.

Either way, our makeup was thoroughly ruined. The Dowager Empress had to send her attendants to take me to a side chamber to freshen up.

When I opened the door to the chamber, the emperor was standing there, having turned around at the sound. He must have been waiting for me.

The man before me was my childhood playmate, the boy who used to run after me. But now, he was the sovereign who looked down upon the world, radiating the aura of an emperor.

Though he still appeared refined and dignified, the gulf between ruler and subject was clear. I performed a proper curtsy and paid my respects.

He quickly bade me rise, his eyes scanning me carefully. Then, as if realizing he had been staring, he looked away and opened his mouth. "Sister... how have you been?"

"I am well, Your Majesty. Thank you for your concern." I kept my head lowered as I replied.

He seemed taken aback by my formal response. A flicker of unease crossed his face, and the hand at his side clenched into a fist. "The Dowager Empress is still arranging her hair. It will be a moment."

When I remained standing with my head bowed, waiting for his next question, he grew visibly flustered. He took a step closer, as if searching for something to say. "I just came from her chambers. I'm not lying to you..."

I couldn't help but smile. He was still so childish. But I answered politely, "Of course I believe you, Your Majesty."

"Then why are you speaking to me so distantly..." His voice trailed off, growing softer and softer, his head drooping along with it. He looked like a wounded child who couldn't bring himself to voice his hurt.

"Are you still angry with me, Sister?" He saw that my expression remained calm and resorted to his usual tactic—playing the victim, gazing up at me with pitiful eyes.

I stayed silent. That seemed to truly unnerve him. He walked directly up to me and tugged at my sleeve.

"I... I didn't refuse to punish Laurence because I wanted to protect him. It's because he's a high-ranking minister, and the court is a tangled web. One move affects the whole."

"You have to believe me, Sister. I am on your side. But given the circumstances, we have to take it slowly."

"I promise you, I will make him pay. I will avenge you and Rowan."

"Sister... please don't hate me. I really have no other choice..."

"Sister..."

By the end, he had even forgotten to use his royal title.

Sigh. He was the emperor, yes, and he had an empress.

But rumor had it that the imperial couple was not close—that they barely spoke, and there were still no children. Aside from state affairs, he had never faced any real storms. No matter how stern his exterior, inside, he was still a boy at heart.

He saw me as an older sister. Of course he was panicking when I ignored him.

Oh well. I couldn't expect the whole world to suffer alongside me, could I?

Besides, knowing when to stop was the key to getting what I wanted, wasn't it?

5

I kept my head down, staring fixedly at the tips of my shoes. Soon, tears began to well up.

I looked up. "No, Sister understands Your Majesty's difficulties. Please don't do anything rash."

I lowered my head again and dabbed at the corner of my eye with my handkerchief. "Right now, all I wish for is the health and well-being of Her Majesty and Your Majesty. I have no other requests."

Seeing me like this, his eyes reddened as well. "Sister, I know you're suffering. I can't avenge you and Rowan right now. If it would make you feel better, you can hit me, curse me—I won't complain."

He paused, as if struggling with himself, then finally took my wrist. "I promise you, I will help you get your revenge. But please, take care of yourself. Don't grieve too much, alright?"

"Mhm." My tears began to fall, unstoppable now.

He pulled me closer, gently brushing his hand over my head and guiding me to rest against his shoulder.

Steward Liu, standing nearby, showed no surprise. He simply turned his head and pretended to admire the flowers in the courtyard.

I suppose it's the same for everyone. The more someone cares about you, the more fragile the walls around your heart become.

A single word of kindness can unleash all the委屈 and hatred you've been holding inside.

I started with soft sobs, but somehow, it turned into wailing. I could barely catch my breath.

The emperor must have understood the depth of my pain. He didn't say a word, just let me vent.

When Mademoiselle Chen came to fetch me, he handed me a white handkerchief. After I had wiped away my tears and stopped hiccupping, he walked slowly with me back to the Dowager Empress.

When we entered the main hall, the Dowager Empress was already dressed and ready. Seeing that my eyes were even redder than before, she scolded the emperor playfully. "You've made Claire cry again. Just wait until I deal with you!"

The emperor immediately began to plead for mercy, joking and even turning to me for help, which lightened the heavy atmosphere considerably.

Just then, Mademoiselle Chen came to announce that it was almost time for the banquet. The Dowager Empress and the emperor should take their seats.

The emperor and I were just about to help the Dowager Empress into her sedan chair when a palace maid reported that the empress had arrived, presumably to escort the Dowager Empress to the banquet as well.

I caught sight of the empress in the distance. I paused, preparing to kneel in greeting. But the Dowager Empress grabbed my arm and said coolly, "Just hold onto me."

The empress acted as if she hadn't seen anything. She smiled brightly as she curtsied to the Dowager Empress and the emperor.

But as she rose, her gaze lingered for a moment on the emperor's shoulder, which was slightly darker from where my tears had soaked the fabric. She paused, then quickly resumed her smile—so quickly that I wasn't sure if I had imagined it.

Then she turned to me and took my arm warmly. "I haven't seen you in so long, Sister. Mother has been talking about you constantly. No wonder she specifically ordered the kitchen to prepare several of your favorite dishes for tonight's banquet. I'm so jealous!"

"I am deeply honored by Her Majesty's and Your Majesty's kindness. Her Majesty's favor is a great blessing. I suppose she wanted me to have a chance to appreciate the culinary skills of the imperial kitchen." I answered politely, not responding to her warmth.

The empress seemed about to continue, but the emperor raised his voice slightly, cutting her off with a hint of impatience. "Enough. The banquet is about to start. Don't delay the auspicious hour."

The empress looked taken aback, as if she hadn't expected him to embarrass her in public. She seemed momentarily confused, wondering if it was because of me or something else that had displeased him.

Without waiting for her to react, the emperor gave me a look, signaling me to help him escort the Dowager Empress to her sedan chair. The Dowager Empress, wanting to keep me close, asked me to ride with her. I tried to decline, but she insisted, so I stayed.

The emperor said nothing more. He turned and climbed into his own sedan chair, ordering the attendants to hurry to the banquet. He left the empress standing there, still trying to process what had just happened.

When we arrived at the banquet hall, everyone rose to pay their respects to the Dowager Empress and the emperor. A few ladies from the top-tier noble families discreetly glanced at me, standing to the Dowager Empress's left. There was a hint of sympathy in their eyes.

And sure enough, when I turned slightly, I saw Pearl Whitmore sitting in a prominent seat near the front of the banquet!

6

The Dowager Empress and the emperor followed my gaze and saw her too. They were momentarily surprised, but quickly recovered.

Since the banquet was about to begin, the emperor could only apologize and hurry off to the men's side.

I helped the Dowager Empress to her seat. She must have felt my hand trembling slightly, because she cast a sidelong glance in Pearl's direction, then patted my hand gently to reassure me. She allowed me to take my leave.

I walked over to where my mother and sister were sitting.

My mother and sister, mindful of appearances, said nothing. Their faces were pale with anger as they sat diagonally across from Pearl.

When my mother saw me approach, her expression softened slightly. She tried to act as if nothing was wrong, pushing a cup of tea toward me. She sighed. "Have some tea to soothe your throat. I told you not to come to the palace, but you insisted. Now look—you're just asking for trouble."

My mother, like me, was still seething with hatred. Even though she tried to control herself, her movements were stiff.

My sister, who had been holding back since we sat down, finally lost her composure. She slammed her teacup onto the table and hissed through clenched teeth, just loud enough for us to hear, "How dare she show her face at the palace banquet? Shameless little wench!"

My mother and sister had been careful not to mention Laurence or Pearl in front of me, afraid of upsetting me. They had tried to distract me with other things, hoping I would slowly forget my pain.

But all their efforts over the past six months had been undone in a single evening. It was infuriating.

My mother didn't even bother to scold my sister for her rudeness. She just lowered her head and sipped her tea.

Pearl flinched at the sound of the teacup. She ducked her head even lower, pressing closer to her mother, the Duchess of Whitmore, until her head was nearly buried in the duchess's lap.

Ha! Who would have thought that the same girl who had once been so wild and unrestrained could now sit so quietly beside her mother, like any other noble lady?

When Pearl had first arrived in the capital as the second daughter of the Duke of Whitmore, she had stirred up quite a commotion among the young men. She had none of the reserve of the capital's ladies. Dressed in red, whip in hand, she laughed loudly when she was happy and pouted openly when she was upset.

She had shown the young nobles of the capital a glimpse of the free-spirited life on the frontier, unburdened by the rigid rules of aristocratic society. They had flocked around her, envious and fascinated.

My Rowan had come home one day, his cheeks flushed, and told me he had found a girl he liked.

He said she was lively and carefree, that she would ride and shoot with him, that she never cried even when she got hurt, just wiped away the blood and kept going...

He said he had never met a girl like her. Her laughter and joy were a new world he had never known. He said she was like a cheerful songbird that had flown into his dull life, and he could never escape.

For days, my son had given away his beloved horse—the one he had practically slept with—to a friend in exchange for a rare calligraphy manual to win my favor. He had waited on me hand and foot, bringing me tea and water, all in the hope that I would agree to arrange a betrothal as soon as possible, before some other young man snatched her away.

I understood. Rowan had been studying at the Imperial Academy, and like his father, he had become a proper little bookworm. Pearl had opened up a completely different world to him. It was only natural that he would fall for her.

At first, I thought it was just a youthful infatuation that would fade with time. If I delayed, Rowan would eventually lose interest.

After all, the Duke of Whitmore was a military man, and my family were civil officials. Our political views were bound to clash.

Besides, the Duke of Whitmore had once overstepped his bounds, forcing the emperor to marry his eldest daughter, which had angered both the Dowager Empress and the emperor. For these reasons, I was reluctant to agree.

But Rowan was stubborn this time. He must have found out about my true feelings, because one day, he knelt before me—the first time he had cried since he started school. "Mother, I truly love her. I beg you, please!"

Rowan had always been a good, obedient child. He had never given me any trouble, never asked me for anything.

Seeing him so distraught, my heart softened.

I thought, I don't need my son to achieve great things. I just want him to be safe and happy. If he married into the Whitmore family, the worst that could happen was that the Dowager Empress would scold me. It wouldn't change anything fundamental.

And a lively, spirited daughter-in-law might bring some much-needed energy to our rather staid household.

So I swallowed my pride and asked the Dowager Empress to act as matchmaker. As expected, she scolded me for being foolish and ignored me for a few days. But in the end, out of love for me and Rowan, she reluctantly agreed.

The two families were betrothed, and we began to interact.

Who could have known that the lively, carefree girl my son loved would also capture his father's heart?

7

Laurence later told me that he had lived his whole life by the rules.

But when he met Pearl, who chattered around him like a little bird, he found himself helplessly falling for her. He knew it was wrong. He suffered every day, tormented by guilt, but he still continued their secret affair.

But every time he saw Rowan's face light up as he told us about running into Miss Whitmore, or receiving a poetry collection from her, Laurence was in agony.

At one point, he resolved to end the affair, to go back to being the proper gentleman, the good husband and father.

But then he saw the sachet hanging from Rowan's belt—the one Pearl had once joked she would give to Laurence—and he regretted his decision.

He told himself to wait, just a little longer, until he had enough resolve to break things off with Pearl, to pretend nothing had ever happened.

But fate had other plans.

Before he could muster that resolve, my son swallowed gold and ended his life.

Sometimes I wonder, did those two have any conscience at all? How could they look at me and Rowan every day and not feel ashamed?

How could they act as if nothing was wrong, pretending not to know each other?

To be fair, Laurence wasn't completely devoid of conscience.

After it happened, he came to express his remorse.

Ha! After it happened!

After I returned to my family, Laurence came to see me. His hair was a mess, his clothes wrinkled and disheveled, a far cry from the proper gentleman he used to be. He handed me a dagger and said he didn't deserve my forgiveness, that he was offering his life in repayment.

We had been married for many years, and I knew that if I yelled at him or hit him, it would ease his guilt.

But I didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

I slowly sheathed the dagger and said calmly, "There's no need to repay with your life. Rowan was a part of you, and he loved and respected you. He wouldn't want to see you like this. If you want to do something, copy a few volumes of the Buddhist canon for him."

Then I paused, looking at the massive tree nearby that would take three people to wrap their arms around. "Last night, I dreamed of Rowan. He was sitting on the swing we made for him when he was little, complaining that we hadn't burned any scriptures for him."

Sure enough, Laurence's back, which had been straight and proud, seemed to crumble in an instant. In that moment, he aged.

I almost laughed. Repay with his life? How could it be that easy?

After Rowan died, I realized that death was an escape, not atonement.

I would never let Laurence die so easily.

And Pearl? How could I let that innocent, lively girl go on living happily, chirping like a beloved little bird, after she had taken my son's life?

But revenge was not so simple.

Laurence had confessed to the emperor and offered to resign from his post, but the emperor refused. He only gave him a minor punishment.

Yes, the military power in the court was held by the Duke of Whitmore and his faction. Without their cooperation, many imperial decrees could not even leave the capital.

Laurence was a key minister the emperor had painstakingly placed in the Ministry of Personnel, grooming him for years until he became Minister. How could the emperor let him retire?

My father and brother were also civil officials. Even if their personal hatred for Laurence ran deep, they had to consider the bigger picture. They couldn't let internal strife among the civil officials give the military faction an opening.

So they had to grit their teeth and swallow their anger, maintaining a facade of peace.

In the end, I was the only one left to avenge my son.

My poor Rowan!

8

Back to the banquet. The Duchess of Whitmore was a first-rank titled lady.

She acted as if she hadn't heard the sound of the teacup. Whatever she was thinking, her face remained composed. She patted Pearl's hand and, as if nothing had happened, turned to chat with the lady beside her.

The other ladies had heard the sound, but since the Dowager Empress hadn't said anything, and their ranks were lower than my mother's, they pretended not to notice.

As for Pearl, they probably thought she was just shy in the presence of so many nobles. After all, she and Rowan had only been betrothed, not formally married. Few people knew she was Rowan's fiancée—only a handful of ladies who had dealings with both families.

On that day, several first-rank officials' wives had witnessed Pearl's tryst with Laurence.

But they were from prestigious families and wouldn't stoop to gossip.

Besides, Pearl was the second daughter of the Duke of Whitmore and the younger sister of the empress herself.

And Laurence was a high-ranking minister, entangled in countless political interests.

Perhaps they also felt sympathy for my son, not wanting to make him a subject of ridicule. Or maybe there were other reasons.

In any case, everyone seemed to have developed collective amnesia about that day.

But occasionally, during the banquet, a few ladies' eyes would flicker between Pearl and me.

After all, six months ago, my son had "accidentally drowned," I had broken off my marriage with Laurence, and shortly after, Pearl had fallen "gravely ill."

Now, Pearl had "recovered," and I had emerged from my grief to attend the banquet. What a coincidence, wasn't it?

The empress arrived late. The Dowager Empress gave a noncommittal "mm" and excused her from formal greetings, then turned to chat with the other ladies, ignoring her completely.

I knew it was because the empress had brought Pearl into the palace without prior permission, angering the Dowager Empress.

The empress was probably helpless.

After Rowan's death, her mother had directly told Laurence that if he so much as thought of marrying Pearl, he would have to step over her dead body.

And Pearl had been "ill" for half a year. Her marriage prospects couldn't be delayed any longer.

So the empress had to use the banquet to find her a suitable match among the second-tier noble families. Perhaps, with the Duke of Whitmore and the empress's influence, even a first-tier family might be possible.

But I thought no first-tier family was good enough for Pearl.

After all, you can't truly understand someone's pain unless you've experienced it yourself, can you?

Throughout the banquet, my gaze kept drifting toward Pearl.

Even the Duchess of Whitmore must have felt uncomfortable under my stare.

Perhaps she was afraid I would lose control and cause a scene.

But I just sat there, calm and composed.

Near the end of the banquet, as was customary, the Dowager Empress and the empress retired early, allowing the ladies to relax and mingle freely.

After all, the purpose of the banquet was for the ruler and subjects to enjoy themselves. With the empress present, the ladies would naturally be restrained.

Once they were gone, the ladies became more animated, moving around to chat and greet each other.

The wife of General Garrison strode directly up to me. "You little wretch! I finally came back, and I couldn't find you at your house. And you didn't even come looking for me. Have you really forgotten about me?"

General Garrison's wife was my childhood friend. We had grown up together. Like her father, the Censor-in-Chief, she had a strong sense of justice, a sharp tongue, and a deadly hand with a whip. Anyone who angered her would be flayed alive before she was satisfied.

But later, she defied her family's wishes, ran off to the southwest, and married General Garrison.

After that, she settled in the southwest. Apart from returning to the capital at the end of each year for the general's report, we rarely saw each other.

We had both become busy with our own lives, and our connection had faded.

The people in the capital had forgotten that there was once a girl named Vera, and that she and I had been so close.

Though our correspondence had become less frequent, we still exchanged letters from time to time. But when Rowan died, there was unrest in the southwest, so I didn't write to her, not wanting to burden her.

So she still thought Rowan had simply drowned.

Seeing that Vera was still staring at me, clearly angry, I softened my voice and coaxed, "My dear sister, I'm sorry. It's just that I was at the temple, chanting sutras, when you came."

Hearing this, she deflated. She must have thought she had accidentally touched on a painful memory. She looked at me, at a loss for words.

That's the beauty of friendship. No matter how long you've been apart, a single word of concern can bridge the gap, as if you were never separated.

But my foolish sister—I didn't deserve her kindness.

She was worried about me, but she didn't know that I hadn't been at the temple that day at all. I had been waiting for her to ask me that very question at the banquet.

I was no longer the gentle, virtuous eldest daughter of the Ashford family. I had become the scheming woman we had both despised as children. In my heart, I hardened myself. "Forgive me, Vera. I will tell you everything one day, and I will beg for your forgiveness."

I took Vera's hand, and she let me lead her slowly out of the banquet hall.

"I'm fine now, just a little restless. Find a quiet place, and we can talk." As I spoke, I glanced back at Pearl. Our eyes met, and she quickly looked down.

Pearl had probably just learned today that I was close friends with General Garrison's wife.

Was she afraid? Shocked? Angry?

I didn't know. I only knew that she wouldn't let me and Vera go off alone.

After all, my brother had told me that the Whitmore family was planning to form a marriage alliance with General Garrison, using it to expand their military power.

If she lost the chance to marry General Garrison's eldest son, even Pearl, the Duke's beloved youngest daughter, might not be so favored anymore.

Otherwise, why would the empress risk angering the Dowager Empress and the emperor by bringing Pearl to the banquet without permission?

Sure enough, I heard footsteps behind us.

I led Vera slowly up to a viewing pavilion hidden among the dense trees.

It was a place the emperor and I had discovered when we were children. From here, you could see the entire imperial garden clearly, but the thick foliage made it nearly impossible for anyone below to spot the pavilion.

The emperor and I used to hide here, giggling as we watched Steward Liu run around the garden, searching for us in vain. It had been so much fun.

Now, I found it amusing again. Especially watching Pearl wandering through the garden, looking around anxiously, searching for me and Vera. She was clearly worried but helpless. It was rather satisfying.

9

"You dragged me up here just to watch *her*?" Vera pointed at Pearl, who was still scanning the garden below, and looked at me with displeasure.

"Of course not." I took Vera's hand and sat down on a stone stool in the pavilion.

"My brother told me that the Duke of Whitmore is planning to arrange a marriage with your family." I cut straight to the point.

"What?! You mean the match my mother-in-law is considering for my son is with the Whitmore family?!" Vera was clearly shocked by the news. Her voice rose several octaves.

She paced angrily. "Is the Duke of Whitmore determined to ruin us sisters? First, he caused Rowan's death, and now he wants to go after my son?"

I quickly covered Vera's mouth, urging her to lower her voice. I tried to stay calm. "He didn't 'cause' Rowan's death. He and Laurence *directly* killed him