Chapter 1

When she gave birth to the eldest prince three years ago, she was not allowed to see him either. King James had personally taken the child away, merely telling her, “This babe will be the queen's firstborn. Don't entertain unnecessary thoughts.”

At the time, she still had energy to cry and beg. She tried to get out of the bed and chase after him, but the maids held her firmly in place.

Afterward, she learned her place. She would go to the queen's chambers every day to greet her, all so she could hear the baby's babbling across the screen.

At first, the king allowed it. Later, the queen said the prince needed peace and quiet, so she never saw her son again.

Now, even her second child had been taken from her.

She lay quietly on the filthy delivery bed, like a doll that had lost its soul. She did not even have tears to cry anymore.

Before she could fully recover, the queen's head maid summoned her to resume her daily morning and evening greetings.

Lynette dragged her broken body to the queen's chambers.

Inside, Queen Isabella played with the little princess. When she saw Lynette's pale face, she smirked. “There you are, Lady Eaves. You don't look too happy. Are you perchance mad at me?”

“I wouldn't dare.”

“Good.” Isabella passed the baby to her nanny and leisurely adjusted her clothes. “You're a member of His Majesty's harem, so don't go getting any ideas above your station. His Majesty only married you because of your father the Preceptor's reputation among the ministers and scholars, and he needs your family's help to stabilize the political situation. As for you—”

Isabella paused, her smile widening. “You're just a reproductive tool. Your only value is in bearing children for me.”

It began to snow outside.

Isabella's smile faded suddenly. “You were frowning when you came in just now. That's a sign of disrespect to me. Kneel in the courtyard until you learn your lesson.”

A later of snow had piled up on the marble floors. Lynette was forced to kneel in the snow, watching as the queen coddled her month-old daughter and hummed to get like a loving mother.

Her knees hurt, then went numb, and finally lost all feeling.

When her vision began to grow dark, she heard the king's attendant announce, “Here comes the King—”

His robes brushed past her body as he went straight into the queen's chambers. James's voice reached her ears. “Why did you make her kneel in the snow?”

Isabella huffed. “I was teaching her a lesson for pulling a long face around me. You know me, I'm the daughter of a general. I'm straightforward by nature, and I don't like those passive aggressive behaviors.”

The last thing Lynette heard before she passed out was James saying, “Let it be. Carry her back to her room.”

When she woke up, it was evening. James sat by her bed, his brow relaxing when he saw her open her eyes.

“Are you awake? The physician said you're weak after giving birth and caught a cold. The queen didn't mean it, so don't hold it against her.”

Lynette looked at him silently. This man had been the hero of her dreams. She had written poetry of him, drawn portraits of him on the battlefield.

Now, he sat before her with his Royal crown, breaking her heart with every word.

“I understand, Your Majesty.” Her voice was emotionless. “Queen Isabella is your beloved wife. I respect her and harbor no grievances toward her.”

Every word was perfectly even and polite.

James paused. This was not the Lynette he knew.

The Lynette he knew would beg to see her baby in tears. She would bite her lip silently after he rejected her, the light dimming in her eyes. Now, her eyes were utterly devoid of life.

“About your baby…” He ventured tentatively, trying to break the silence. “The prince and princess will be recognized as the queen’s son and daughter. In the future…”

“Yes, that is their fortune.” Lynette finished his sentence and even curved her lips, but her smile was ice cold. “I am not worthy, so I take Your Majesties for doing me the honor of raising my children.”

The honor, she said. James felt a lump in his throat.

His attendant called him from outside. “Your Majesty, the queen personally made you some stew. She said it's to warm you up on this cold day and invited you to her chambers. The prince is also waiting for you to join them.”

James stood up and glanced at the woman in the bed. Lynette had closed her eyes, seemingly asleep.

He walked to the door and then turned around, saying, “Lady Eaves, the queen can no longer conceive. I owe her too much. You're a good woman, so be considerate of her.

“Rest well.” He suddenly felt restless, so he added, “If you fall pregnant again, you can raise the next child yourself.”

Lynette did not reply, merely staring at the ceiling as his footsteps faded into the distance.

After a moment, she suddenly asked her maid Daisy, who stood beside her. “It's been three years since His Majesty rose to the throne, right?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Is the kingdom at peace?”

“The northern border is secure, and the floods in the south have been quelled. The Preceptor is keeping the scholars steady in court, and while they occasionally argue with the generals, the situation is relatively stable.”

Lynette slowly smiled. Her expression was as frail as the last dying leaf of u winter.

“Good.

“Now, I can finally die.”