Chapter 2

Lynette had wanted to die three years ago when her firstborn son was taken from her.

She was the Preceptor’s only daughter. She grew up surrounded by books, her poetry renowned through the capital city.

If she had not married the new king to stabilize the court on her father's orders, she should have married a scholar or a poet, spending her days leisurely, surrounded by art and music.

She never wished to join the royal harem.

At the time, however, the new king ruled the court through military might. The political situation was unstable, and the whole kingdom risked upheaval.

Her father was the leader of the officials of the court. Her marriage was proof of a union between officials and the monarchy, so she accepted the arrangements.

In the depths of her heart, though, there was also a hint of anticipation that she did not dare to reveal or explore— because once upon a time, she had truly loved King James.

She loved him when he returned as a hero general from the northern border, having quelled a rebellion. She loved the way he looked when he stood before the throne, countless ministers bowing to him.

Harboring those secret hopes, she entered the palace thinking she might at least earn a few wisps of his love.

That all changed when she overheard him in the courtyard four months into her pregnancy.

“Don't worry, Isabella. You're the only one I love. I only married Lynette Eaves to continue the royal bloodline. Once the child is born, I'll give them to you to raise.”

Those words tore apart all her fantasies. That night, she sat up awake in her bedroom until dawn, without shedding a single tear.

She had not married a hero. She had simply become a tool and a pawn.

She had wanted to die, but the court was still unstable.

Suicide was taboo. If she had killed herself, it would have been a huge mark on her father’s reputation. If she had faked her death, she would have destroyed the peace in the court her father had fought so hard to maintain.

She had no choice but to waste away in the harem. Her only light in life was hearing her child’s voice when she visited the queen’s chambers. Whenever she caught a glimpse of his silhouette, it was enough to keep her going for an entire day.

Just like that, three years had passed.

She bore a daughter, and both her children became the queen’s.

The kingdom was at peace, and the court was stable.

She had played her part as a political pawn and continued the royal bloodline.

She was finally free.

Lynette lay on her bed, counting the days. Her father would return to the capital from his southern patrol in seven days.

For the past three years, he had placated the officials for King James and ensured the kingdom’s affairs went smoothly. At the same time, she was the perfectly well-behaved concubine. Between the two of them, they kept the relationship between the throne and the nobles strong.

Now there was peace in the kingdom. The northern border was safe, and the southern disasters were solved. While the officials and generals still argued at times, things were generally stable. She had done her part.

Three days later, the princess celebrated a month since her birth. It was a momentous affair, with the queen’s lounge decorated beautifully and countless noble ladies attending the party.

When James walked into the lounge, he was carrying the prince. The boy was three years old now, hugging James’s neck and calling him Father. Isabella reached out to him, so he jumped into her embrace and sweetly called her Mother.

The family of three looked so happy.

Lynette lowered her gaze and picked up her teacup. The tea scalded her trembling fingertips.

“There you are, Lady Eaves,” the queen said smilingly. “And here I thought you were too unwell to come.”

“Of course I had to come and celebrate the princess,” Lynette said evenly, with a bow.

“That’s good to know.” Isabella waved at the prince. “Charles, come and this lady.”

Prince Charles got out of his chair and ran to the queen, looking up at Lynette as though she was a stranger.

“Charles, this is Lady Eaves. Greet her,” Isabella said softly.

The child blinked. His voice was sweet. “Hello, Lady Eaves.”

Lynette’s hands trembled slightly in her sleeves, but she smiled. “You’re so polite, Prince Charles.”

“Take a seat, Lady Eaves,” James said. His gaze lingered on her for a second before he looked elsewhere.

The party continued. The noblewomen praised the cute princess, the benevolent queen, and the wise king. Lynette sat quietly, occasionally eating a few cakes she barely tasted.

After a while, the queen suddenly said, “Come to think of it, Lady Eaves gave birth to the princess but never held her, right?”

The room fell silent for a moment. Lynette looked up and met Isabella’s smiling gaze.

“We’re here today to celebrate her birth, so you should hold her.” With that, Isabella actually picked up the baby and walked toward Lynette.

The noblewomen watched silently as Lynette stood up and took the baby. The swaddle was warm in her hands, the little face within sound asleep, eyes tightly shut.

This was her daughter.

Three seconds after Lynette held the baby, though, the princess suddenly burst out crying and screaming.

Isabella quickly took the baby back, rocking her gently. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. Mother’s here.”

Strangely, the baby’s wails slowly ceased once she was in the queen’s arms. The noblewomen started whispering.

“Guess blood isn’t all that matters, after all…”

“Lady Eaves is too young. She didn’t hold the baby properly.”

Every word pricked Lynette’s heart. She remained frozen, as though still holding the baby, but her arms were empty.

The queen soothed the baby while addressing her apologetically. “Sorry, Lady Eaves. The princess is shy around strangers.”

“I was the one who clumsily woke her up.” Lynette lowered her gaze, her voice still even. “I’m grateful to you for raising the princess so carefully.”

With that, she turned to James. “Your Majesty, I’m not feeling too well. May I take my leave?”

James looked at her pale face and paused. “Go ahead. Rest well.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Lynette bowed and left. She could sense the gazes on her back, filled with pity, mockery, or schadenfreude.

Night had fallen by the time she left the queen’s chambers. Daisy held her arm, saying softly, “Let’s head back, my lady.”

“Yes.”

After taking a few steps, Lynette suddenly stopped and turned around for a glance. The palace was brightly lit, laughter coming through the window. She saw James walking up to Isabella and looking down at the princess. The queen smiled at him, and the prince hugged his leg.

They looked like the perfect little family.

But their happiness had nothing to do with her.

She turned around and headed back.