Chapter 2

Rose swept in, trailed by a dozen servants carrying lacquered boxes. She was looking every inch the conquering queen.

The boxes were stuffed with pearls, red coral, and jewelry, an entire fortune Weston had sent over first thing that morning.

She'd dressed in a garish scarlet silk gown for the occasion, with that same crimson snake still coiled around her wrist.

"Oh, Monica, I really am sorry. I promise I didn't come here to show off." Rose hid a giggle behind her hand. "It's just that Prince Weston dotes on me so much; he insisted on emptying half his treasury for me. I couldn't possibly use it all, so I thought I'd pick out a few of the lesser pieces as a wedding gift for you."

She walked right up to me and looked down her nose.

"After all, you're about to marry that bloodthirsty tyrant of a Crown Prince. Who knows, you might end up drawn and quartered one of these days. You can't take any of this with you when you die, so you may as well enjoy looking at it now."

I didn't so much as lift my eyes, just took a sip from the teacup on the table.

"Then I wish you a swift rise to the queen's throne," I said, blowing on my tea, my tone even. "Though you might want to be careful. Wouldn't want that little beast on your wrist to bite you dead before you get the crown."

Rose's expression froze, and she flinched, drawing her wrist back without meaning to.

"Don't you dare act jealous of me! Monica, you're the one who deserves to die!" She glared at me, teeth clenched. "Whether it's Prince Weston or the whole kingdom, everything I want will be mine. Just wait, you'll be tortured to death in the Crown Prince's residence."

With that, she gave a cold snort and swept out with her servants in tow.

I watched her go, my mouth curling into a mocking line.

Did she really think painting on a false mark and keeping a poisonous pet made her a Saintess?

In my last life, if I hadn't quietly kept those venomous creatures in check for her, she would have been eaten alive by her own poison long before now.

That afternoon, Anthony Pickett, Weston's personal guard, showed up at my courtyard uninvited.

He didn't bother with a greeting, just tossed a bottle of cheap wound salve onto my stone table like he was doing me a favor.

"Lady Monica, a gift from Prince Weston." Anthony's nose was practically in the air, his voice dripping with condescension. "His Highness says that while you're spiteful and vindictive, the two of you were engaged once, so he'll show you some mercy.

"If you're willing to go to his residence right now, kneel, and apologize to His Highness and Lady Rose, after the wedding, His Highness might even consider taking you in as a concubine.

"That way, you won't have to suffer under that tyrant of a Crown Prince. This is an enormous act of grace on His Highness's part. Lady Monica, shouldn't you be thanking him?"

I looked at the shoddy bottle of salve on the table, and my expression turned utterly cold.

Take me in as a concubine? He actually had the nerve to come here and insult me like this?

I rose to my feet, picked up the bottle, and hurled it down at Anthony's feet while his smug expression was still in full bloom.

The porcelain shattered, and powder scattered across the ground.

Anthony startled, then bellowed, "How dare you refuse such an honor!"

"Get out." I spat out the two words, my eyes cold.

"Go back and tell Weston that if he ever sends someone to insult me again, I'll break his other leg. There's nothing left between him and me. He chose Rose, so he'd better keep her on a tight leash and stop letting her run around biting people."

Anthony's face went livid with rage. He pointed at me, sputtering, unable to get a word out, before finally storming off in a huff.

"You're dead! His Highness will never let this go!"

I looked down at the shattered porcelain on the ground, my gaze ice-cold.

"Never let this go? Good. Then let's see, this time around, who really won't let go of whom."