Chapter one

Lythera’s pov

The journey to the palace took longer than I expected, partly because the streets were crowded with carriages carrying noble families to the Queen’s annual ball.

Tonight, the entire court had gathered to celebrate the kingdom’s victories and honour the men who had defended its borders. And tonight, I reminded myself as I gathered my skirts and stepped onto the carriage platform, Edward would be among those honoured.

I had intended to deliver the gifts I had prepared to him personally before the ceremony began, then greet the Queen, who had always shown me a kindness I sometimes wondered whether I deserved.

The grand hall was already alive with conversation, gentlemen in embroidered coats standing in clusters beside women whose gowns shimmered beneath the chandeliers. I recognised several familiar faces, but my attention was drawn to the far end of the room, where Edward stood surrounded by a group of young nobles. He wore a dark formal coat adorned with silver embroidery, his hair neatly arranged, his expression as composed and distant as ever. Even from across the hall, he looked every inch the future emperor.

For a moment, I simply watched him.

I straightened my shoulders and began making my way toward him, rehearsing a greeting in my mind. I would congratulate him on his honour, offer the gifts, and perhaps ask whether he had enjoyed the northern campaign’s celebrations. Nothing too forward, nothing that would give the others another reason to laugh at me.

I had almost reached the edge of his group when someone struck my shoulder.

The impact came so suddenly that I barely had time to turn. My heel caught against the hem of my gown, the basket slipped from my hand, and I stumbled forward with a startled gasp.

The bouquet flew from my grasp, scattering several white petals across the polished floor, while my knee struck the marble hard enough to send a sharp sting up my leg. For one dreadful second, I could only stare at the ground, stunned by the suddenness of it all. Then I heard a familiar voice above me.

“Oh, Lythera! Goodness, what have you done?”

I looked up to find Amelia standing beside me, one gloved hand pressed to her chest, her lovely face arranged into an expression of horrified concern. She glanced at my fallen bouquet, then at my shoes, before turning toward the people who had begun to gather around us.

“I told you that you ought to be careful with those heels,” she exclaimed. “You aren’t accustomed to wearing them, and I was worried something like this would happen. Are you hurt? Oh, please tell me you haven’t injured yourself.”

For a moment, I could only stare at her. I had seen her approaching from the opposite side of the hall before the collision, and I could have sworn she had been watching me. Yet there she stood, speaking as though she had spent the entire evening trying to protect me from my own foolishness.

“I’m fine,” I managed, reaching for the edge of a nearby table to steady myself. “I simply need a moment to get up.”

“Of course, of course.” Amelia bent slightly, though she made no move to help me. “You really must be more careful, Lythera. You know how important tonight is, especially with His Highness receiving his honour. The last thing you want is to draw attention to yourself for the wrong reasons.”

A few people laughed softly.

I felt the colour rise in my cheeks as I tried to gather the scattered flowers. My knee throbbed, and the hem of my gown had twisted beneath me, making it difficult to stand without putting weight on the injured leg. Around us, the whispers began almost immediately.

“Does she ever do anything without making a spectacle of herself?”

“One would think the Amberton family had never taught her how to behave in public.”

“She’s always trying to imitate Amelia. It’s becoming rather embarrassing.”

I kept my eyes on the floor, pretending the comments didn’t reach me, but every word settled somewhere beneath my ribs.

“Lythera.”

Edward’s voice made me look up so quickly that I nearly lost my balance again. He had turned away from his companions, but not to help me. Instead, he was looking at Amelia, his brows drawn together as he examined her face.

“Are you all right? Did she knock into you?”

Amelia’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, Edward. Please don’t blame her. I’m certain she didn’t mean to cause any trouble. She’s probably only nervous because of the occasion.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to notice that I was still on the floor, that my knee was hurting.He glanced in my direction at last, and for one foolish heartbeat, I thought he might offer me his hand.

Instead, his expression tightened with irritation.

“Must you always find a way to make yourself the centre of attention?” he asked. “Of all evenings, Lythera, you choose tonight to cause a scene. The entire court is gathered here, and you’re on the floor because you cannot manage a simple walk across a ballroom.”

My fingers curled around the edge of my skirt.

“I didn’t fall on purpose, Edward.”

“Then perhaps you should learn to be more careful. You’re not a child anymore, and this sort of behaviour is hardly becoming of a woman who expects to be taken seriously.”

His words struck harder than the fall itself. I could feel the eyes of the surrounding guests fixed on me, waiting to see whether I would cry, argue, or provide them with another reason to whisper. I forced myself to breathe steadily and reached for the bouquet, determined that I would at least leave this humiliating moment with the gifts intact.

“Actually,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended, “I came here to bring you something.”

Edward’s gaze shifted to the basket on the floor. “What?”

“The cookies I baked for you, and the flowers. I thought you might like them before the ceremony.”

For a brief moment, something unreadable crossed Amelia’s face. Then she leaned forward, picking up the basket before I could reach it.

“Oh, these!” she exclaimed, turning it slightly so the people around us could see. “I wondered where they had gone. I prepared them for Edward myself, but I must have misplaced them earlier. Lythera, why didn’t you tell me you had found them?”

The words seemed to drain the warmth from my body.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “I baked those cookies yesterday. The flowers are mine.”

Amelia’s smile faltered, and her eyes filled with tears so quickly that I almost wondered whether I had imagined the accusation in her voice.

“Why would you say that?” she whispered. “I know we’ve had our differences, but I never thought you’d go so far as to take credit for something I did for Edward. I only wanted to surprise him tonight.”

“Amelia, I—”

“Enough.” Edward’s voice cut through mine, sharp and cold. He stepped toward Amelia, taking the basket from her hands before drawing her closer to his side. “You don’t need to explain yourself to her. If Lythera has decided that stealing your gifts is the only way she can make herself relevant tonight, that’s her problem, not yours.”

I could barely comprehend what I was hearing. “Edward, I made those cookies. I chose the flowers. Why would I take credit for something I didn’t do when I came here specifically to give them to you?”

“Because you cannot seem to accept that not everything is about you.” His eyes hardened. “And now, because you’ve handled them, I don’t want them. Take them away.”

I stared at him, my throat tightening around the words I wanted to say. The cookies had taken hours to prepare. I’d burned my fingers taking the first tray out of the oven, stayed up late decorating the second, and carefully packed every single one that morning.

He didn’t have to accept them. I had never expected him to fall in love with me simply because I’d brought him a gift. But to stand there and tell me he didn’t want anything I’d touched, as though my very presence contaminated the things I offered him, was a cruelty I hadn’t prepared myself for.

“You’re being unfair,” I whispered.

“Then stop giving me reasons to be.”

He turned away before I could answer, already speaking softly to Amelia as though the matter had been settled. I remained where I was, surrounded by strangers who had watched me fall and were now watching me suffer, and for the first time that evening, I wished I had stayed home.

“Lythera?”

The familiar voice came from behind me, warm with concern. Before I could turn, a hand slipped beneath my arm, helping me rise with a gentleness that made the sting in my knee seem suddenly insignificant.

“Your Majesty,” I murmured, dipping into an awkward curtsy as soon as I recognised the Queen.

“Good heavens, child, what are you doing on the floor?” She looked from my reddened knee to the scattered petals, then toward the basket in Edward’s hands. Her expression sharpened for a moment, but she said nothing about what she had seen. Instead, she brushed a stray petal from my sleeve and gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. “Come along with me. You shouldn’t remain here while everyone stares at you.”

I glanced at Edward, but he had already turned back to Amelia. The Queen noticed the direction of my gaze, and something in her expression softened before she guided me toward the raised platform at the far end of the ballroom.

“There’s something I would like you to hear,” she said quietly. “And I would prefer that you hear it beside me.”

I followed her, bewildered, while the orchestra gradually fell silent. Conversations faded as the Queen stepped onto the platform, and the guests turned toward us. I could feel Amelia watching from across the room, her earlier smile returning as she straightened her gown and lifted her chin. Edward stood beside her, looking composed again, though his brows drew together when he noticed that his mother had brought me onto the platform.

The Queen waited until the ballroom was completely quiet before addressing the court.

“Thank you all for joining us this evening. Tonight, we honour the men who have defended our kingdom and protected the peace we enjoy. Among them is my son, Prince Edward Vane, whose courage during the northern campaign has earned him the respect of our people.”

Applause swept through the hall. Edward inclined his head, accepting the congratulations with the ease of a man accustomed to public admiration. I watched him from beside the Queen, my hands clasped tightly before me, wondering why she had brought me here when I wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“There is, however, another matter I wish to address tonight,” the Queen continued. “As my son prepares to assume greater responsibilities in the coming years, it is time we consider the future of the imperial family. His marriage is not merely a personal matter. It is a decision that will influence the stability of our court and the future of our empire.”

A ripple of interest passed through the crowd.

I felt Amelia shift beside Edward, her posture suddenly more attentive. Her fingers moved to smooth the front of her gown, and a small, anticipatory smile appeared on her lips.

For one absurd moment, I wondered whether the Queen intended to announce Amelia’s engagement to Edward. The thought brought a strange, unexpected ache to my chest, though I had no right to feel disappointed. Edward had never promised me anything. Whatever hopes I’d nurtured belonged to me alone.

“As his mother and the Queen of this empire,” Her Majesty declared, “I have given considerable thought to the woman best suited to stand beside my son. After careful consideration, I have made my decision. I have chosen the bride who will one day become Empress of this realm.”

The ballroom fell completely silent.

Edward’s expression changed. His eyes widened slightly, and he turned toward his mother with a look of unmistakable surprise. Amelia’s smile grew brighter, and I saw her lift her chin as though the crown had already been placed upon her head.

The Queen turned toward me.

“Lady Lythera Amberton,” she announced, her voice carrying to every corner of the hall, “you are the woman I have chosen for my son.”

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

The silence broke into whispers.

Amelia’s smile vanished. Her lips parted as she stared at me, all traces of her practiced composure slipping away.

But I could look only at Edward.

He was staring at me as though his mother had just delivered the most terrible news of his life.

And in his eyes, there was no joy, no surprise that might become happiness, no hint of the affection I had spent years hoping to earn.

There was only disdain.