Fishy Cookie
I was born with a cursed mouth, and I was the unluckiest baseborn daughter of Northcott Hall.
When I was seven, my older half sister stole my only winter coat, and I cried that all ten of her fingers would rot with frost.
The next day she fell through the lake ice, and every one of those ten fingers festered.
When I was thirteen, my stepmother locked me in the woodshed with no food or water.
I muttered that she'd see blood before sunset, and half an hour later a panicked stallion broke her ribs.
After that, everyone in Northcott Hall called me a calamity. My father said I poisoned the house just by standing in it.
My stepmother accused me of killing my grandmother and dumped me in a paupers' burial field.
I lived on bark and roots, and all I wanted was to carry my mother's ashes home to the Veyra Highlands.
I'd barely reached the city gate when Beatrice arrived with Crown Guards and blocked my path.
"The Dowager Queen has ordered a noblewoman chosen to be buried with the Emperor.
"If Northcott Hall gives up a daughter, the whole family is honored.
"You're an embarrassment alive. At least your death can bring this house some glory."
My father took the payment with his own hands and ordered the servants to nail me into the coffin.
What they didn't know was that the Emperor wasn't dead at all.
A few days earlier, at a palace banquet, I'd seen him standing in the winter wind and said, "Dressed that lightly, His Majesty may stop breathing from the cold tonight."
Before dawn, the palace announced the Emperor had no pulse.
I kicked the coffin lid open, looked around at a burial chamber full of royal treasure, and smiled.
"Your Majesty, I've come to lift your curse."