Chapter 1

My mother, the Queen Consort, was the only sweet and naive woman in the Palace harem whom anyone could bully. She could not even remember the correct sequence of the consorts who were supposed to pay their daily morning respects.

It was a blunder to allow a disgraced consort, who had been banished to isolation, to pay her respects before the Noble Consort. This caused dissatisfaction in the harem, which was supposed to be managed by the Queen Consort.

When the Royal Household handed the accounts to her, Mother backed away and claimed that she was not good with numbers.

My father, the King, doted on her tremendously, and he transferred the responsibility to the King's Cabinet to help her with the accounts.

Mother was so clumsy that she once lost her Queen Consort's Signet Ring in the Royal Garden. The ring lay under the sun for 3 days until a young groundskeeper found it. Mother rewarded him with several gold coins for retrieving it.

During stormy nights, she cowered in Father's arms, covered her ears, and cried. It worried Father so much that he summoned the Royal Physician late at night to make sure that Mother was fine.

When consorts rebuked Mother, she turned red in the face while she listened silently. The next day, she bestowed a box of pearls upon them as an olive branch, which was quite absurd.

During royal banquets, Father peeled the skin off grapes to feed her. She found them cold, so Father held them in his palm until they turned warm before feeding the grapes to her.

Whenever Mother told Father in a coquettish way that her legs hurt, he held her up the steps in front of everyone present without any shame. Father always reminded me in private, "Never let your mother get involved with any complicated issues. She will not be able to handle it."

Everyone in the Palace called her "Your Majesty" respectfully, yet behind her back, they criticized her for being an incompetent fool. Mother never threw her weight around, nor did she try to restrict me by imposing rules.

When I was younger, the first thing Mother did whenever I got into trouble was shield me behind her, and she berated the Palace staff who told on me.

After I came of age, Mother helped me pick a husband with tears in her eyes. She focused on good‑looking individuals. "My daughter has to look at a handsome face for the rest of her life."

The night before my wedding, she bawled her eyes out while she clutched my wedding gown, and she kept repeating, "If anyone ever bullies you, do not hold it in. Come home and tell me."

I thought Mother was being naive because I was the Princess, and no one would ever dare to bully me. Unfortunately, her advice turned out to be right.

On the night of my wedding, my husband, Baron Isaac Seymour, treated me with tenderness and consideration. He helped remove my earrings and tucked me in before he leaned close to my ear and whispered, "I will not ever let you down, Princess."

I was filled with joy, thinking that I had married the right man.

The next morning, I woke up to host the morning reception for Isaac's family as per tradition. My mother‑in‑law, Camilla Seymour, sat at the table but did not look at me. She slowly removed a gold bracelet from her wrist, yet she refused to drink from the cup of tea I served.

Time passed, and the tea turned cold, yet Camilla refused to let me sit. She continued forcing me to serve everyone at the table. My arms shook from holding the heavy teapot, and it was only then that she reached out to touch her cup.

She sneered. "I do not think I can accept a cup of tea from you, Princess. How are you supposed to serve your husband and your in‑laws when you are acting like a spoilt child on your first day of marriage?"

My father‑in‑law, Hugo Seymour, grunted unhappily. "A pampered girl brought up in the shielded walls of the Palace does not understand proper etiquette at all."

Isaac stared at me coldly and said nothing to help me. I continued standing and serving tea, wondering if the tenderness Isaac had shown me in bed the night before had been a hallucination.

Camilla waved at someone at the door to come to the table. "Roxana, bring Ignatius here to pay his respects to the Princess."

A gentle‑looking woman came forward while she held the hand of a 3‑year‑old boy. When the boy saw Isaac, he let go of her hand and ran to Isaac. He called out, "Father!"

All I could hear was ringing in my ears as I dropped the teapot. It crashed to the ground and splashed tea all over my dress. I looked up in disbelief. "What did he just call you?"