Chapter 3

What Darius didn't know… was that every time he turned and left, I would rush to the washroom, press a quill feather against my tongue, and force myself to throw up every drop of that "tonic."

I carefully saved the leftover dregs, wrapping them in a linen handkerchief.

Three days later, under the excuse of getting some fresh air, I visited a modest herb shop in the city.

An old physician with white hair and a white beard sat behind the counter.

He picked up the dregs, rubbed them between his fingers, and gave them a careful sniff. His expression slowly darkened as he lowered his voice.

"Ma'am, this mixture contains powdered Bonebreaker Root. Taken over time, it slowly eats away at the heart's pathways. Under normal circumstances, nothing will seem wrong. But during childbirth, there's a high chance you'll bleed out and won't survive."

I nodded calmly and left behind a pouch of silver coins.

When I stepped out of the herb shop, snow had started falling again.

Pulling my wool cloak tighter, I told the driver, "To the east side. Willow Lane."

The carriage stopped at the mouth of the alley.

I walked alone to the farthest courtyard and knocked on the wooden gate.

The man who opened the door had only one eye. His name was Marcus Webb. He had once been the captain of my father's personal guard.

The moment he saw me, he froze.

"My Lady?"

My father had once been the commanding general of the Northern Frontier. Twelve years ago, he died on the battlefield.

My mother was a merchant's daughter. To protect my younger brother and me, she told the world that my father had died young and took us back to her family's estate in the southern lowlands.

To everyone else, I was just a general's wife from a merchant family.

What they never knew was that my father had been the great general who made the Northern raiders tremble.

My mother only told me the truth about those old family retainers on her deathbed.

I stepped across the threshold.

"Marcus, I need men."

He dropped to one knee instantly.

"I've waited twelve years for this. At last, you have come for us, My Lady."

From inside my coat, I pulled out a bronze war badge, its surface worn smooth from years of handling.

"Before the end of January, I want three hundred skilled men quietly brought into the capital."

Marcus bowed low.

"Consider it done."

By the time I left the courtyard, the snowfall had gotten heavier.

I pressed a hand against my aching stomach, feeling the two small lives moving inside me.

"Don't be afraid. Mommy won't let anyone take you away. Mommy will give you…"

The carriage wheels creaked softly through the snow.

I lifted the curtain and looked toward the royal palace.

Thick snow blanketed the tiled rooftops, gleaming cold under the evening sky.

"…a future full of glory."

On the second day of February—the traditional start of spring—the queen hosted a flower-viewing luncheon in the royal gardens and invited all the noblewomen of the capital.

I didn't want to go, but for once, Darius's expression turned hard.

"Bellareyna personally sent the invitation. If you refuse, what will people say?"

I looked at him.

"Say what? That the general's wife doesn't know her place?"

His jaw tightened. A flicker of conflict passed through his eyes, but in the end, he only said, "Celeste… do it for me."

For you, I drank poison and pretended not to know. And now, for you, I was supposed to walk right into a trap.

I gave a faint smile.

"Fine."

In the royal garden, red winter roses stood vivid against the snow.

Bellareyna sat at the center of the crowd like the moon surrounded by stars. The moment she saw me, her smile widened.

"Celeste, you finally made it. I was starting to worry you weren't feeling well."

I bowed in greeting.

"Blessings to Her Majesty the Queen."

But she didn't tell me to rise, leaving me bent over with my eight-month pregnant belly.

The noblewomen nearby immediately started whispering.

"I heard the general's wife offended the queen yesterday."

"She comes from a merchant family, not born of noble blood. No wonder she has no manners…"

Bellareyna stroked her fake pregnant belly and spoke lazily.

"This is your third pregnancy already, isn't it, Celeste? What remarkable luck. Unlike me—I only conceived after three years in the palace, so of course I have to be careful with this child."

She paused awhile, and her voice suddenly turned cold.

"So women who try to climb the social ladder with their wombs should know their place… and stop wanting things that were never meant for them."