Chapter 3

After leaving the pleasure boat, I made haste to my final stop—the hidden chamber of the Livingstone residence. Darkness had completely taken over, and not a single lamp had been lit inside the chamber. A faint scent of blood hung in the air.

The all-powerful Princess Royal, Christina Livingstone, sat on a rosewood chair. Bathed in the moonlight spilling through the window, she slowly wiped away the blood from the longsword in her hand with a white handkerchief. The blade had tasted countless lives.

Draped in a black silk robe, her face was grim, and murderous intent emanated from her entire being. I dropped to one knee, lowering my gaze and making myself as inconspicuous as possible.

Years ago, I ventured into the sacred hills beyond the city to forage for precious herbs, hoping to sell them for a good price. I stumbled upon Princess Christina, who was severely injured and barely alive after being poisoned.

I hadn't saved her out of the goodness of my heart. I had taken advantage of her plight, stripping her of her valuable emeralds and healing salves. For good measure, I had stuffed a few leaves of the detoxifying herb I'd dug up into her mouth, figuring it was worth trying even if she seemed beyond saving.

Who would've guessed that she was so resilient she actually woke up? Once she regained consciousness, she not only spared my life, but she also forcibly took me back to her hidden chamber.

Princess Christina wielded immense power, but she had made countless enemies and spent her life walking the razor's edge between life and death. She was ruthless, violent, and bloodthirsty.

I became her bedwarmer, someone she used to relieve her stress. All she demanded was absolute obedience. I, on the other hand, coveted the rare treasures she casually tossed my way whenever we were done.

We both had our own ulterior motives, and the arrangement worked out perfectly.

"You're here," she said apathetically without looking up. "Come here and help me change."

I stepped forward and deftly unfastened her outer robe. I had just touched her belt when her large hand suddenly clamped around my chin, forcing me to look up.

Her gaze was as sharp as a hawk's, filled with scrutiny. "His Majesty has decreed a marriage for me. My prince consort is the son of the chancellor's legal wife. We're getting married on the eighth day of next month."

My heart leaped for joy. The son of the chancellor's legal wife? Wasn't that Ms. Standish's true love, Lysander? What a small world we lived in!

However, on the surface, I lowered my eyes and schooled my expression into one of profound sorrow. Noticing my reaction, a flash of coldness flickered in her eyes.

Princess Christina released her grip and warned me, "You're nothing more than my kept man. Know your place, and don't harbor any delusions. I'll only marry a nobleman from an established family. I'll never make a merchant's son my lawful husband."

With that, she lifted her foot and kicked a velvet box at her feet toward me.

The box popped open, and more than a dozen extraordinarily rare pearls, each about the size of a pigeon's egg, rolled out. They were perfectly round and lustrous, worth a fortune. It was the carrot after the stick.

Looking at those pearls, I could barely suppress the grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. I was rich!

Without the slightest hesitation, I picked up the pearls one by one and tucked them into my pocket. Then, I took three steps back and dropped heavily to my knees, pressing my forehead to the floor.

"Congratulations, Your Highness!" I said sincerely. "I'm nothing but a lowly, uncultured merchant's son, and I would never dare sully the eyes of your future prince consort!

"I'll go to a church outside the city and become a priest, praying day and night for you and your prince consort! I guarantee you'll never have to see me again!"

Her hand stopped in midair. Her brows drew together, and her eyes narrowed, as if she were attempting to spot the slightest trace of pretense on my face.

Yet, I didn't give her the chance to probe any further. "It's late, Your Highness. I don't want to keep you up, so I'll be taking my leave!"

With that, I scrambled to my feet and bolted out the door. My movements were as nimble as a wild leopard guarding its food.

After leaving the Livingstone residence, I returned to the secluded estate that very night, grabbed the luggage I had packed in advance, and headed straight for the West Gate. The fastest and most luxurious carriage I could afford with 500 dollars was already waiting for me there.

"Let's hit the road! Saltmarsh, here we come!" I sat comfortably inside the spacious carriage, clutching my entire fortune of three million dollars and grinning from ear to ear.

To hell with the grandeur of Bramford and the feuds of the nobility! Making a fortune and retiring early was the true path to a good life.