Chapter 2

Roxanne finally returned to her chamber.

The door closed softly behind her, leaving behind a silence far more comforting than the suffocating tension of the emperor’s study.

She walked slowly toward the large window in the corner of the room, then took a seat before it. The fading light of dusk slipped inside, brushing warmly against her face, yet it did nothing to ease the chaos in her mind.

She raised a hand and pressed her fingers to her temple, though there was no pain.

The emperor’s words echoed relentlessly in her head, repeating over and over, as if deliberately chaining her thoughts to a single threat.

A monastery.

Roxanne let out a long breath.

For the poor, a monastery was a place of refuge, a place to find shelter, to receive warm, albeit simple meals, and to live in quiet peace. But for a princess of the empire like her, a monastery was no sanctuary.

It was punishment.

An exile that would slowly erase her name, her honor, and her very existence from the world.

Worse than death.

“How dreadful…” she murmured softly.

Her hand fell back onto her lap. She stared blankly out the window, her thoughts drifting toward a reality that still felt unfamiliar.

“Damn the gods…” she whispered bitterly. “This is truly unfair.”

She was supposed to be dead.

She had chosen that ending with her own hands. She had given up. She had grown tired of trying to make Killian Lunnart—the man who became her husband see her, notice her… let alone love her.

But all her efforts had been in vain.

He loved war more. He preferred the scent of blood over her presence. And that shameless woman he always brought along… she received far more of his attention than Roxanne, his lawful wife, ever did.

Roxanne slowly clenched her hand.

“And now… I have to face all of that again?” she muttered under her breath.

Her father. Her mother-in-law. Her despicable in-laws. That woman. And Killian.

The memories returned vividly, as though they had never truly left. Their first meeting. That cold gaze, void of interest, devoid of curiosity. Not even enough care to truly look at her.

Two meetings and they were married. Everything had felt so fast, so foreign.

Roxanne closed her eyes for a moment.

Their wedding night. Fear, doubt, and unpreparedness made her refuse him. And Killian… simply left.

Leaving her alone in the bridal chamber.

That night, she was not only abandoned as a wife but as someone utterly unwanted.

By the next morning, the entire castle knew. That the duchess was not valued, that she was not worthy enough to be chosen. Even the lowest servants dared to look at her with contempt, whispering behind her back, mocking her in silence.

All because of one thing, she had not received the duke’s affection.

Roxanne slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze turned cold as she recalled the woman who had suddenly appeared at the castle, shamelessly claiming to be carrying Killian’s child—Emily Frost.

A stain. A humiliation she could never erase.

Roxanne took a deep breath, then released it slowly.

“There is no other choice…” she murmured.

This marriage was not merely a union between two people.

It was politics.

Killian Lunnart was the heir to the title of Grand Duke. He would inherit the Grand Duchy of Lereg in the north a powerful territory that held the key to the empire’s strength.

That was why her father had chosen him. And that was why Roxanne could not refuse.

But this time…

Roxanne slowly lifted her head, gazing out the window. She was no longer afraid. No longer uncertain. If fate had forced her back to this very point, then she would not repeat the same mistakes.

Killian Lunnart.

This time, she would not be the one chasing him. She would not be the one hoping. And she would not be the one humiliated.

Her lips curved slightly, forming a cold smile one filled with unwavering resolve.

“If I must marry him again…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “then this time, he will be the one begging to have me.”