A Second Chance at Love

Time Travel and Second Chance Book 2

Kassandra Lynn

Copyright © 2017 by Kassandra Lynn

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Blurb

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Dear Reader

About the Author

Also by Kassandra Lynn

Blurb

True love doesn’t exist. Forever belongs in a storybook.

Empress Ursila Ufran ran away with Royal Healer Draven for love. What she found was regret and heartbreak. Draven had approached her with an agenda, her father had committed treason, and everyone in House of Ufran had been beheaded. When a magical amulet gives her a second chance at life, she has to avoid her mistakes and prevent her family’s downfall before it’s too late.

Chapter 1

I clutch the mortar and pestle to my chest as I hurry up the stairs of the tavern. Although they’re not made of ivory or jade or any of the expensive stones that used to surround me, I know he will love it, and as long as I get to see the glorious smile on his face, it’s worth the pearl necklace I exchanged for it.

The grin on my face makes heads turn as I pass drunken men and busy servants. I’ve seen more furrowed brows than curved lips on his face ever since we eloped from the palace. Today, I’ll make sure he smiles and then he will be convinced again that it’s worth everything for us to be together. Despite all odds, an empress and a royal healer can be together.

The closer I get to our room, the lighter I step. I shift the weight of the mortar to one hand and hide it behind me as I raise my other hand to knock on the faded door.

“Everyone knows that Empress Ursila, the daughter of House of Ufran, has eloped,” a woman’s voice says. She sounds like … but she couldn’t be her. “It’s now one of the many sins that have condemned House of Ufran.”

My hand freezes at hearing my name.

They can’t be talking about me. I faked death to escape the palace with Draven. The plan was perfect. He told me the concoction he gave me would stop my breathing temporarily and convince everyone that I’d died of illness. It worked like a dream. No one except Draven would know I’m still alive.

So who is this woman in his room? I want to thrust open the door and call out the liar, but doubt churns a hole through my stomach. I grip the stone mortar so tightly that my fingers tremble. What if someone found out I’m still alive? Even the best plans might fail. And Draven did drag me from one city to the next over the last three months as if we were running away from something.

Then I purse my lips. So what if everyone finds out? It’s not like they could do anything to me. My father would protect me. He’s the one who married me off to the emperor and left me in the palace surrounded by the emperor’s harem. If Father knew I’d been poisoned ten times, attacked three times and tricked countless times since I’d entered the palace, he would realize his mistake.

“House of Ufran has fallen. Everyone has been beheaded. We can finally find a corner of the world to settle down in.” The woman’s voice softens even more, and I can imagine a smile on her face.

I almost want to laugh at the hilarity of her words. House of Ufran would never fall. Our house is more powerful than the young emperor on the throne. Even if Viscent Empire falls, House of Ufran would still remain standing.

I crack the door just wide enough for me to see the people inside.

Draven looks fabulous in his blue robe with his dark green hair cascading down his waist. His hazel eyes are gentle, as always.

I recognize the woman in the room as well. No one in the entire Viscent Empire has her honey brown eyes and warm countenance that had broken through the defenses around many hearts.

Serene! Why is she here?

My lover and my friend stand way too close to each other. Her arms wrap around his waist as she rubs her face on his chest.

I grab the silver amulet around my neck until my knuckles whiten. There is an explanation for all of this. I shouldn’t charge into the room like a jealous wife demanding to know what they’re doing. I’m sure there is a reason why Serene would hug Draven and he didn’t push her back.

Serene turns her head and looks right into my eyes. I freeze in my spot.

She smiles at me. I’m about to push open the door to enter the room when I hear her say, “Do you feel better now?”

I open my mouth, but before I can reply, Draven says, “Nothing can bring back the lives of my entire family, but yes, I’m as happy as I could be.”

I gaze at his face and don’t see the happiness he claimed.

“Ursila …” Serene says.

Draven pushes Serene back, making her stumble a couple of steps. “She’s inconsequential. Leave her be.”

My heart squeezes. Dull pain radiates from my chest. During the days that we’d planned my fake death, he had said I was the most important person in his life.

Serene lifts her delicate face and pats Draven’s hand. “It’s over. Everything is over. You no longer have to suffer Ursila’s temper. She’s served her purpose. The emperor saw her elopement as the last straw. From now on, House of Ufran will cease to exist, and we can finally be together.” The look she gives him reminds me of the expression on my face in the mirror when I thought of him.

Blood drains from my face. House of Ufran has fallen. My family has been beheaded. I’m the last straw. And Draven has been suffering my temper.

All of that can’t be true. I thrust open the door, not caring if it bangs against the wall loud enough for the whole tavern to hear.

“She’s lying, right?” I grab Draven’s sleeve and watch his eyes widen upon seeing me. “You didn’t approach me to avenge your family. You didn’t plot against my father. And you’re not going to be with Serene.”

“Ursila,” he says.

“Answer me!” My voice comes out too shaky and raw.

I look up at the man I’ve thrown away everything to be with. He doesn’t reply. My fingers dig into his clothes as I wait an eternity for him to tell me this is all a prank. Gradually, heat leaves my body and the sunny spring afternoon becomes too cold.

I drop his sleeve. The mortar and pestle fall to floor with a loud bang and roll to the corner.

“Ursila.” Draven grabs my shoulder.

I shove him back. How could he! I love him more than I love anyone, but in the end, he hurts me the most.

“You’ll regret this. Both of you!” My voice rises of its own accord. Heat burns my eyes as I whip around to go. If I stay there for another minute, the tears in my eyes might betray me in front of my two new enemies.

I totter out of the tavern in a trance.

They’re lying. Not everything they said is true. House of Ufran consists of over two hundred people, including my gentle mother, my arrogant father, my many half brothers and sisters, my aunts and uncles, and numerous cousins. They’re scattered all over Viscent Empire. All of them can’t be dead.

They’re lying.

I run out of the tavern, tearing through the pedestrians to get to the center of the city. There is an announcement board. Surely, if something this important happened, it’d be posted on the board.

Faces blur around me. Distantly, I hear someone yelling at me. I must’ve bumped into every other person in the street, but I can’t slow down. I have to prove that Draven and Serene are wrong. The mother who had wiped sweat off my forehead and pulled me into her bosom without regard for her own safety when I was ill can’t be dead. Neither can that bunch of annoying half brothers and sisters.

There is a crowd of people gathered around the announcement board, more than the usual few. My heart sinks.

I push past the men and women in my way until I’m standing before the rectangular board tacked with many pieces of paper.

“Watch it!” A large man shoves me to the street, but not before I read through the fresh scroll in the center of the board.

House of Ufran has committed five unpardonable crimes. The minister of justice tried and condemned House of Ufran for treason against the throne. And everyone in the house had been beheaded.

Suddenly, the world turns silent. There are many peasants chattering near the board, but I can’t hear a word they’re saying.

What have I done? I stare at my trembling hand.

I was the empress of Viscent Empire, the most powerful woman in the entire empire. So what if I didn’t have love? If I were still the empress, I could find a way to prevent all of this. But instead, I became one of the five unpardonable mistakes. I risked my life and everything I cared about for my so-called true love who wants nothing more than to use me against my family.

And now everyone is dead. My mother. My father. My sisters and brothers. Everyone is dead. House of Ufran has fallen, and I’m all alone in this world.

Tears fall down my cheeks. I grip the amulet around my neck so tightly that it cuts through my hand and draws blood.

I was a fool. If I have another chance, I won’t allow anyone to kill my family. True love doesn’t exist. Only power can protect the people I care about.

The onlookers around me scramble away from the streets. Horror covers their faces as they yell something at me. A woman hugs her child against her chest, and a man waves his arms frantically in a signal that I only understand when I see the huge carriage clattering down the street behind a wild horse.

The horse neighs and raises its front hooves. I catch a glimpse of the white of its eyes and the two silver bells on its neck when it prances down on me. Pain explodes. Blood splatters out, painting the ground red. The last light I see is a sudden glow of my amulet before everything turns black.

Chapter 2

“My lady. My lady” Someone nudges my arm.

I open my eyes and stare at the young woman whose nose is a couple inches away from mine.

She’s a pretty girl with hair the color of coal and eyes a dark shade of green. Her lips are set in a grim line as she says, “My lady, I can send a message to Duke Ufran about this. Even an emperor can’t do this to you!”

I blink a couple times. “Reenan?” I didn’t take anyone, including the head of my personal maids, with me when I ran away with Draven. I thought I would never see her again.

“On the day of your wedding, too!” Reenan’s face flushes. “Didn’t he know everyone in the palace would talk if he didn’t spend his wedding night with you? It’s enough that ten mistresses entered the palace at the same time as you. He dares to be absent on this important day!”

I feel no traces of the sharp pain in my chest that took my breath away a moment ago. There is no blood, no horse galloping down a busy street, no crowd of onlookers shouting at me to move away. All I see are Reenan and the luxurious room in the palace I’d lived in for a year.

This is not where I’m supposed to be. The emperor must’ve sent his men after me and brought me back to the palace. But why is Reenan talking about a wedding night?

“My Lady, this is unacceptable.” Reenan stamps her foot. “I’ll talk to Duke Ufran tomorrow, and the emperor will regret treating you this way!”

Wait. “My father, Duke Ufran, is dead. I read the announcement of his punishment just a moment ago,” I say with a dry throat.

Reenan’s mouth falls open. She looks at me like I’ve grown another head. “I just saw Duke Ufran in the wedding feast a few hours ago.”

My heart skips a beat. I stand and walk past her to the vanity mirror sitting atop a beautifully carved dresser. The girl in the mirror has her dark violet hair styled up her head under a crown and brown eyes so deep that they appear black. Her features are delicate. Only her complexion looks paler than desirable.

My hand runs down the gold and white gown with a ridiculously long train dragging on the floor. This dress … it looks exactly like the one from a year ago, the day I got married to the newly crowned emperor.

“My parents are not dead?” I seize Reenan’s hands.

“Of course not!”

I stare at her long and hard to decide if she’s lying. Then, my gaze runs over the vaulted ceiling, the walls painted tastefully with silver peonies in a sky-blue background and the floor carpeted with soft blue rugs. Everything is exactly as I remember. Even Reenan’s words sound familiar, like I heard her saying the same thing before.

I must be dreaming.

I clench my hand, digging my nails into my palm until they draw blood. No matter if this is real or not, I can’t make the same mistake I did before. Love only lives in storybooks. Power and influence mean life and death. The girl who believed in happily ever after is dead. From now on, there’s only Empress Ursila.

And no one gets away with murdering my family without consequences, even if he’s the emperor.

“Don’t bother my father,” I say. “Go find out where the emperor is today.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

My hand flies to my neck to touch the amulet, like I’d done so many times when I was upset or needed comfort, but my fingers clench empty air.

“Where’s my amulet?” I ask Reenan.

“The red one in the shape of a ladybug?”

“No, the round silver amulet with a star engraved on it.”

She knits her eyebrows. “I’m not aware you have such an amulet. Is it something the duchess gave you before the wedding?”

Then I remember. The amulet is among the huge pile of wedding gifts from nobles. At this time in my last life, I didn’t have it yet.

“We must find it.” I walk out the door to my suite. I don’t know why I feel the need to have it. It’s just an ordinary piece of jewelry, not exceedingly beautiful or expensive, but it had been with me for more than a year. Whenever I touched it, its warmth had given me the strength to continue.

“But today is your wedding night.” Reenan picks up her dress and hurries after me. “Your Majesty is supposed to wait for the emperor. What if he comes when you are gone?”

“He won’t come,” I say with certainty. At this time last life, I sat at the edge of the bed, wringing my hands and waiting for that beautiful man to come to our marriage bed. Being married off to the palace was not my choice, but beneath my protests, I’d daydreamed what it would be like to be the wife of such a gorgeous emperor. Perhaps becoming the empress wasn’t all that bad. I could get used to looking at Emperor Ezra’s face all my life, but he crushed my hopes on the first day of our marriage. The groom was missing on our wedding night, and everyone knew that the new empress was not to the emperor’s liking.

Just as well. Not that I need to look at his face tonight. My hands itch to throttle him and show him what it feels like to die like the two hundred some odd lives he ordered to kill.

I take a deep breath as I descend the stairway that widens as it spirals down. About a dozen servants are busy moving boxes of gifts to my storage room. When they see me, all of them stop what they’re doing and bow. “Your Majesty.”

The cries of many voices ring throughout the hall.

“Rise,” I say. Without looking around, I walk straight to the huge vase of colorful blossoms and pluck the amulet that had fallen beside the vase.

I find a silver chain for the amulet and return to my room.

“Help me undress,” I say to Reenan.

Reenan glances at the door, as though expecting the emperor to walk in at any minute, before she sighs and unlaces my elaborate dress.

That night, I stay awake and stare into the darkness. My fingers clutch the amulet until they turn stiff. The events of the past day replay over and over in my head.

I’m dreaming about the year when I was eighteen and married the newly crowned emperor, but why is this dream so real? I pinch myself. A sharp pain radiates from my arm, and I can no longer tell which part of my life is reality.

If the events from my memory will happen, then next year, the emperor will behead all of my family.

That can’t occur again. No matter at what cost, the people who took care of me my entire life can’t lose their lives, especially not because of me. I didn’t save them the last time. I have to save them now.

Goddess Avinia, tell me what I should do. I close my eyes and place the amulet near my heart. I know better than to run away with Draven this time, but my elopement was just one of the five unpardonable mistakes that condemned House of Ufran. If the emperor doesn’t like House of Ufran, he could behead everyone with or without me in the palace.

Chapter 3

I must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing I know, Reenan is leading six maids into my room to help me with my morning routine.

One maid holds a basin of warm water in front of me, and I dip my hands into it for a wash. Another maid offers me a wet towel, which I use to clean my face. The routines are all familiar, just like the thousands of times I’ve done them before. As I reach for the salt-water mouth rinse, I can’t help but wonder if I made everything up in my head. I never ran away with Draven, I’ve always been in the palace, and my family has never been dead.

“Which of the emperor’s mistresses is the first to arrive in my tower?” I ask Reenan as a maid styles my hair.

“Serene, Your Majesty,” she says.

Gradually, my uncertainty fades. My face in the mirror turns hard and cold. If everything was made up in my head, I shouldn’t know that Serene was the first mistress to pay her respect.

I don’t know why, but I’m reliving my past. It’s impossible, unfeasible, and inconceivable, but it’s true.

By the time I enter my receiving hall, nine girls have already arrived, whispering in front of a beautifully carved armchair. I climb the steps to the armchair and spin around to take my seat.

The nine girls below me curtsy. “Your Majesty,” they cry.

I study the faces of all of them, not hurrying to tell them to rise. My gaze falls on Serene for a moment longer than the others. These are the emperor’s mistresses, sent to the palace on the same day as me. I admit all of them are beauties. Most are prettier than me, and some are high-born daughters not too much lower in station compared to me.

But it’s these beautiful girls who had contributed to my misery at the palace.

Minutes pass in silence. Some of the girls’ knees begin to wobble. When Reenan clears her throat, I say, “You may rise.”

The girls straighten. A couple stumble a step before catching their balance.

“Your Majesty, I’m Zeia Otan, daughter of the minister of works. I heard powdered pearls are great for the complexion, so I ordered some for Your Majesty.” A redheaded girl wearing a low-cut dress that barely covers her bosoms motions her maid, who takes a step forward and holds a silver box over her head.

They are the same powdered pearls that gave me a severe rash. Intentional or not, the rash prevented me from doing my duties as the empress when ambassadors from other kingdoms came to pay their respects to the new emperor. Serene had to organize everything and welcome the ambassadors on my behalf. Although Emperor Ezra didn’t say anything, I know he liked me even less after that.

“Rutun Nath, daughter of House of Nath.” A tall girl with wavy golden curls steps forward with her head high. Her maid brings a red wooden box to eye level. When the maid opens the box, the glow of the crystal ball inside casts the hall in a soft green light. “I’m sure even a daughter of House of Ufran couldn’t have seen this large of an undersea crystal.”

I lean back on my armchair as Reenan receives the gift. That’s the same undersea crystal I’d placed on a table near my bed. Ever since, I’d had nightmares every night. Serene was the one who pointed out that the undersea crystal could be the reason for my nightmares. Since then, I’d trusted her more than I should.

The other mistresses introduce themselves and offer their gifts to me. All of them either came from important noble families or have fathers in key positions in court. I’m sure I would’ve known most of them if I’d gone to the multitude of parties I’d been invited to but didn’t attend.

“Your Majesty, I’m Serene Rustin, daughter of the minister of justice.” A smile blossoms across Serene’s face as she rises from her curtsy and offers me a sachet she embroidered herself.

I gaze at her and can’t shake off the shiver down my spine. Of all the mistresses here, I thought she was the only one who truly cared about me. I should’ve known better. There are no friends in the palace harem.

“Reenan,” I call out.

Reenan signals for the rest of my maids to dispense my gifts, which are mostly jewels and headpieces.

“I don’t care for useless formalities,” I say. “You don’t have to pay your respect to me every day. I’ll send for you if I need you.”

The mistresses murmur their agreements.

“If there is nothing else, you are excused.” I rub my temple, having a headache already. I forget just how weak I used to be before Draven made me stronger. No matter how I hate him now, he’s the best healer I’ve ever known. I’ve seen countless healers in my short nineteen years of life, but no one before him, not even the most expensive and famous ones, had been able to cure me of this headache.

“Your Majesty.” Instead of sauntering out, Zeia takes a couple steps toward me. Her hips sway as she walks, and her long red dress swooshes around her legs. “Yesterday was your wedding night with Emperor Ezra. Since we’re all in His Majesty’s harem, I was hoping you could offer some tips to please His Majesty.”

My headache intensifies. I furrow my eyebrows and try not to show my discomfort. “The emperor was not with me last night.” Even after having experienced this my last lifetime, I couldn’t completely keep the bitterness from my tone or the flush of shame from my cheeks.

Zeia’s hand flies to her mouth to cover a silent oh. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.”

I bet she is.

“Wait. If the emperor was not at the empress’s tower yesterday, then where was he?” Rutun scans through the rest of the mistresses.

“His Majesty didn’t go to my suite.” One mistress takes a hasty step back.

“Not mine either,” another says.

A girl in a white dress whose name eludes me opens and closes her mouth. At long last, she says, “Tessa wasn’t in her suite last night.”

“Who’s Tessa?” Rutun demands.

“She … she’s not here,” the girl in the white dress says in a small voice.

“She’s absent at the empress’s tower the first day?” Rutun raises her voice. “Even I had to wake up at the crack of dawn today.”

“I’m sure the girl has her reasons to be late.” Zeia flips open a magenta-feathered fan. “And you’re not superior to everyone here, you know.”

“At least I’m a legitimate daughter of a noble.” Rutun gives Zeia a sidelong glance.

Zeia’s fan freezes in midair for a moment before it resumes. “Then it’s too bad that a legitimate daughter of House of Nath is only a mistress of the emperor like the rest of us.”

“Zeia Otan, what are you saying?”

“I—”

“Enough!” I hold up a hand to cut them off. Bright spots flash at the edge of my vision, and I feel as though someone is pounding my head with a hammer.

“The empress doesn’t feel well. You’re all dismissed,” Reenan says to the mistresses.

Rutun furrows her eyebrows at Reenan while Zeia glances at my face. Just when I can’t hold up my façade any longer, they file out of my receiving hall.

“Your Majesty, are you all right?” Reenan cries.

I grab my head. I didn’t realize I’m sweating until a breeze cools the moisture on my forehead. I’ve forgotten how bad the headaches could be. The black herbal pellet Reenan forces into my mouth only takes the edge off.

I draw in a deep breath. Then another, and another, until the intense throbbing ebbs.

“Reenan, where are you going?” I ask just before she disappears out of my hall.

“I’m calling for a royal healer,” she says.

“No, come back. I’m fine now.” Royal healers. There must be at least a hundred of them, but he’s one of them. I don’t need to meet him for a second time. There are some things worse than headaches.

“You don’t have to fear the emperor’s reaction to your condition,” Reenan says. “He can’t depose you. He won’t dare.”

“Reenan!” No matter how much I hate the emperor, some words are not meant to be spoken. One of House of Ufran’s inexcusable crimes is arrogance and disrespect for the emperor. “Watch what you say.”

“Fine, but I’m getting a healer.” She spins around and hurries out of the hall.

I slump back down on my chair. It’s all right. There are more than a hundred royal healers. What is the chance that the one she brings back is Draven? Even if Draven does come, he doesn’t know me yet. We’re not lovers, and I haven’t risked the world to be with him. I could ask him to cure me of my headaches and then dismiss him. It’s that simple.

I wring the silk fabric of my dress. Seconds pass like hours. I stand up to pace back and forth in front of my armchair.

Reenan’s loud voice outside makes me jump. Before I realize what I’m doing, I slip out of the receiving hall through the back door like a thief on the run.

“Your Majesty.” Servants curtsy along the way.

“Don’t follow me,” I say, passing them without stopping.

I weave through the maze of a garden and only look back after I’m somewhere so far away from my tower that I’m sure Reenan won’t be able to find me for a good hour.

The farther down the path I go, the scarcer the palace servants and guards. When I turn around, I have absolutely no idea where I am.

Bamboo surrounds me, shooting from the ground to the sky and blocking a portion of the sunlight. I try to trace my steps back to where I was, but the more I walk, the denser the trees.

Branches ensnare my dress and catch my hair. I yank at them, hissing at the pain at my scalp. Then something white darts across the forest floor in the corner of my vision.

I pick up my dress and chase after it, hoping it can bring me out of this maze. When I finally catch up with it, it jumps into a pair of arms and nuzzles its nose against a lean chest.

If I’m not mistaken, it’s a small white fox.

I look from the fox to the pair of elegant hands holding it. Without looking farther, I know who he is, but I can’t stop myself from checking out his graceful neck and a face that takes my breath away every time.

If I didn’t know him, I would never think he’s the emperor of Viscent Empire. His emerald eyes lack ambition and his ambience is devoid of threat as though he’s content to spend his time in this forest with his pet rather than bother with the affairs of the state. Wearing a plain navy blue tunic and black trousers, he seems to fit into the garden like he belongs here.

But appearances are deceiving. This beautiful man is responsible for the lives of hundreds of people dear to me. I ball my trembling hands into fists. If looks can kill, he’s dead a thousand times over.

He sets the fox on the ground and bends down to continue watering a blossom with a silver can.

I clear my throat, but he doesn’t turn his attention to me, as if I’m an inconsequential servant whose only job is to stand there awaiting orders. He’d condemned House of Ufran for arrogance and disrespect for his regime, but he’s the most arrogant man I know. Emperor or not, no one had ignored me like he has.

“Your Majesty.” After a while, I force myself to dip into a curtsy.

He grunts in response. His eyes never leave the flowers and plants he’s tending to.

“You probably don’t remember me. I’m Empress Ursila.” It’s comical to introduce myself to the husband I’ve just married, but I’m not sure if he glanced at my face during the entire wedding ceremony yesterday. Even if he did, the layers of powders servants brushed over my face might make me look quite different from today.

“Follow the direction of the sun for the way out. Next time, don’t stray into my garden.” He snaps off a dead leaf with scissors.

My body stiffens. For a moment, rage boils my blood. He was the one who agreed to marry me. He was also the one who agreed to take in ten mistresses from influential families at the same time as our marriage. Yesterday, he didn’t bother to show up in my room, making me the laughingstock of the entire palace. Today, he’s dismissing me without a single word of comfort or explanation.

That self-centered murderer! And he had the audacity to claim House of Ufran was arrogant!

“Ursila.” He finally turns to me. “Remove your foot from that Forget Me Not.”

“The what?” I lift my foot and find the tiny blue flower with a yellow center flattened on the ground. “This?” I pluck the flower from its stem, bringing out a frown on his face.

“A flower’s life is already short. Don’t end it prematurely,” he says.

The murderer! He cares more for the lives of flowers than those of men.

“Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.” He focuses back on the clusters of pink petals in front of him.

Somehow, the way his gaze passes over me without lingering stings. It seems to say I grew up surrounded by jewels and riches, so I wouldn’t understand or appreciate the beauty of nature. A girl such as me wouldn’t care about other people, much less flowers.

Fine! If he thinks that way, so be it. It doesn’t matter to me in the least.

But instead of turning away to seek my way out, I find myself saying, “I disagree. If I were the Forget Me Not, I would give up my short life in exchange for a person who truly appreciated me.”

His hand that’s holding the scissors freezes in midair.

I continue, “Life is valuable, but it’s not as precious as a confidant.” Too bad true love doesn’t exist and there is no such person in this world.

He sets his scissors down and looks at me as though seeing me for the first time.

He seems so surprised that I can’t help but blurt out, “What?”

“You remind me of a friend.”

I wasn’t aware he’s capable of having friends.

“Who is that friend?” I ask.

His eyes have a distant look for a moment before he shakes his head. “Ira will show you out of my garden.”

I’m wondering who Ira is when the white fox leaps to my side, coming dangerously close to me. My body stiffens as I stare at its sharp teeth and eerie eyes. I take several steps back, but the fox doesn’t get the message. When it rubs its cheeks against my legs, I jump and my foot connects with its body, sending it sprawling to the ground.

“What are you doing?” Emperor Ezra picks up the small fox and strokes its back. Any sense of amiability, imagined or otherwise, disappears between us as quickly as a summer fog. If he were indifferent to me when I first entered the garden, he’s now furious.

“I …” How do I explain that I don’t get a kick from abusing pets? His fox just startled me, and I’ve been wary of furred animals ever since I was bitten by one many years ago.

From the look on his face, it’s obvious that nothing I say will make a difference. And why would I have to apologize to the man who massacred my family? Underneath that handsome face is a killer. If I let my guard down on him for even a short second, all of my family will die.

I purse my lips and spin around to stride in the direction of the sun. Emperor Ezra is more eccentric than I remembered. I have to think of a dependable plan to prevent him from beheading everyone in House of Ufran.

I clutch the silver amulet as I weave through the bamboo trees.

He’s the emperor. Unless he passes away or is dethroned, he’s the ultimate ruler of the entire empire. I either have to depose him, kill him, or change his mind about House of Ufran.

I contemplate the possibility of the first two options. No, they won’t work. There is no one to succeed him. Because of political unrest in the last several decades, Ezra is now the only royalty left. If he dies, chaos will ensue in Viscent Empire.

That means I have to accomplish the impossible task of changing his mind about House of Ufran.

My head throbs even before I begin to think of plans. The current emperor might be young and raised in a village, but he’s no gullible boy.

“If I want someone to believe me and do as I say, how do I accomplish that?” I ask Reenan after I arrive at my tower. The healer she invited over, whoever he is, is now gone.

She blinks. “You’re the empress. You just have to order him to do your biddings.”

“But what if that person is higher in rank than me?”

“Who can be higher in rank than the empress?”

The emperor’s name gets stuck in my throat. “Or let’s put it this way, how does a normal person get a man to do what she wants?”

“Money,” she says.

“But he doesn’t lack money.” I tap my lower lip with my finger. “And he doesn’t look like the kind who is greedy for more than he has.”

“Threat,” she says.

I cock my head to think of something I can threaten the emperor with. My mind draws a blank.

“Bribe,” Reenan offers.

“There is nothing I can get that he wouldn’t be able to get himself.”

“Who is it, Your Majesty? Tell me what you need and I’ll make sure he complies.”

How I wish it were that simple!

I shake my head.

Then she leans toward me and lowers her voice. “Or you can make him fall in love with one of your maids. Men do stupid things for the women they fancy.”

Fall in love. The emperor? I think about Ezra’s cool indifference and raise an eyebrow. It’s easier for him to fall in love with his fox than any woman. The whole time we were married in my last life, he didn’t touch me. Neither did he spend the night with any of his mistresses.

Come to think of it, he must have issues. Which man in his right mind wouldn’t touch his wife and mistresses, especially when his harem consists of Viscent Empire’s top beauties?

“He’s hard to impress,” I finally say.

“That’s because he hasn’t found the right one,” Reenan insists. “Girls such as Your Majesty could steal anyone’s heart if you set your mind on it. If you spare a guy a little attention, he would be worshipping the ground you’re walking on.”

“Really?” I can’t imagine Emperor Ezra worshipping anyone, not even Goddess Avinia.

Reenan gives me a nod.

If what she says is true, then why wasn’t Draven smitten with me? I’d poured my heart and soul into loving him, disregarding the differences in our station and forgetting who we were. If I really have the ability to make men do everything I wished, then I wouldn’t be left with a broken heart at the time of my death.

But despite my better senses, plans unravel within my head. This is my only chance. There is no other way to bend the emperor to my will.

“Reenan,” I say. “I remember there is a pot of black peony in my father’s study room. Go fetch it.”

“The one that His Grace paid handsomely for? That’s his favorite plant!”

“Tell him I need it urgently. And get a jar of the best healing ointment, preferably something that can be used on foxes.”

Reenan casts me a dubious look before she goes to do my bidding. While waiting for her to come back, I open the many chests in my closet and browse through my wardrobe. There must have been at least twenty large chests, each holding numerous garments. I don’t recognize most of the dresses I own, either because they’re newly added to my collection or because I haven’t gotten a chance to wear them. I drag many simpler dresses out of the chests and hang them over my arm until I can’t carry another one.

For hours, I try them on. The cobalt green dress brings out my fair skin and flows like a waterfall down my body. The lavender one has an elegant clasp that I really like. In the end, I settle on a sleeveless sky blue dress that reminds me of the Forget Me Not in Ezra’s garden.

When my maid collects my hair in a loose bun fashioned with a sapphire hairpin, I run my hand down the satin dress.

Reenan comes back with the items I requested. The single flower in the crystal pot takes my breath away, just like all the other times I’ve looked at it. Layers after layers of midnight black petals stack on each other, making the peony the size of my head. I can’t resist touching the velvet texture of the petals or sniff its sweet scent.

“His Grace said he needs this back if Your Majesty can’t give him a valid reason for taking it,” Reenan says.

I nod. “I’ll explain to my father.”

“Your Majesty, where are we heading?” Reenan hurries after me. “I was going to send for the royal healers again to talk to them about your headaches.”

“Don’t talk to me about royal healers,” I say more curtly than I intended, hugging the pot close to my chest. “I don’t want to see any of them.”

“But the palace houses the most skilled healers. Maybe one of them knows how to cure your condition.”

One of them certainly does, but he’s the last person in this world I want to see. Just the mention of him reminds me of how daft and silly I had been.

“Your Majesty, you’re approaching the emperor’s chambers.”

I climb the two flights of steps to an impressive building of white stones that glitter in the late afternoon sun.

“Are we confronting the emperor about his misconduct yesterday?” Reenan’s eyes gleam.

“Wait outside for me.” I cast her a sidelong glance. She’s the best person to bring if I want to pick a fight, but that’s not my purpose today.

We almost make it to the huge double doors before the two guards standing there cross their swords, barring our entrance.

Reenan shoots them the evil eyes. “What is the meaning of this? Do you know who she is? How dare you draw your weapons against the empress!”

“The emperor was not expecting Your Majesty. He ordered us not to allow anyone in.” The guards lower their swords and bow to me, but neither of them moves out of my way.

“Did you hear a word of what I said? The empress doesn’t need an invitation to see the emperor. At your house, does your wife send you a visit card before she goes into your chamber?” Reenan bellows.

“I don’t have a wife,” one of the guards murmurs.

“That’s your problem. Now make way for Her Majesty.” Reenan shoos them like a farmer shoos his flock of chickens.

I turn my head to the side and cover my face with my palm. Maybe I can understand why a lot of people said I was arrogant. I shouldn’t have allowed Reenan to follow me here.

The guards seem to draw a blank, no doubt trying to connect what wives have to do with performing their duties, but no matter what Reenan says, they don’t budge from their position.

Reenan purses her lips. “Very well. If you can’t move, then we will.” She grabs my wrist and drags me around them.

“Your Majesty!” One guard sidesteps us and holds out his arm to block the entrance.

“What are you doing?” Someone opens the double doors and asks.

My eyes snap to the emperor’s familiar figure in the doorway. He changed into a more emperor-worthy robe of blue and silver. His one hand is still on the edge of the door as he looks at the chaos outside.

I freeze where I am and wince. The head of my personal maids was just pushing at the unyielding arm of his guard, trying to make way for herself and me. Reenan’s voice from earlier must have been loud enough to carry through the stone walls and attract the emperor.

This is not what I have in mind when I carry the peony all the way to the emperor’s chambers.

“Your Majesty, we just”—I clear my throat—“have a small misunderstanding.”

He arches an eyebrow.

“I … um … I have something I want to speak to you about,” I continue when he doesn’t say anything.

“My guards received strict orders not to allow anyone in.” He tilts his head.

“But Her Majesty is not anyone. She—” Reenan begins.

“Reenan!” I cut her off. “Wait for me in my tower.”

“But—”

“Do as I say.” I keep my tone firm, making it clear that I want no more arguments.

She purses her lips before she curtsies and descends the flight of steps.

“Your Majesty, may I enter?” I motion at the half-opened door.

His gaze shifts to the black peony and lingers on it for a moment too long. “This is not a good time.”

I prepared myself for this, but his rejection still stings. “I’m sorry for what happened earlier.” I swallow my pride and apologize in front of an unwanted audience. “I didn’t mean to kick your pet. Here is some ointment for the fox.” Balancing the potted peony in one hand, I offer him the tiny porcelain jar.

His emerald eyes widen slightly, as though surprised that a girl like me would apologize for anything. “Ira doesn’t need it.”

My extended arm freezes in midair. I stare at his face and can’t find any warmth or welcome. Letting my arm drop to the side, I say, “Very well.”

As I turn to go, the door creaks open wider and a pair of bright blue eyes peeks out at me. A moment later, a pretty girl with long auburn hair hops out, carrying the emperor’s pet fox in her arms.

“Darian, my aunt and I don’t mind if the empress join us.” The girl tugs at the emperor’s sleeve. “I have yet to meet her.”

Her every action can be considered as misconduct. I itch to tell her she can’t yank at the emperor’s sleeve and it’s disrespectful to call the emperor by his name, especially a name that wasn’t given to him at birth. And why is the fox snuggling against her chest? If I were the one to touch the fox, Ezra would give me the death glare, not that I want to have that furry creature in my arms.

I press my lips as I realize something. She came from inside the emperor’s residential compound, the same one he wouldn’t allow me to enter.

“Tessa, where were you this morning? I was expecting you at my tower with all the other mistresses,” I say.

Tessa’s eyes grow round. “How do you know my name?”

Because I know her from my last life. Emperor Ezra had never spent the night with any mistress, but he had a fondness for Tessa and called on her quite often. Coming from a household of peasants, the girl has no sense of etiquette. If not for her aunt, who had taken care of the emperor for many years, Tessa wouldn’t even have a chance at becoming an emperor’s mistress. She’s certainly ill fitted for the role.

“Because I’m the empress and I overlook the palace harem.”

Her lips form a silent oh. Then she turns to the emperor. “Darian, my aunt would want to meet the new empress. Can we take her in?”

I’m sure the girl doesn’t mean any harm, but her words are like a fat egg stuck in my throat. I’m the empress of the entire Viscent Empire, yet I need a mistress to beg the emperor to let me into his residential compound so that I can have the pleasure to meet her aunt.

When Ezra glances at me and walks in the door, giving me silent permission to enter, I’m not thrilled.

Maybe I made a mistake in telling Reenan to return to my tower. I need her loud voice and ruthlessness just about now.

Screw Ezra! My eyes narrow at his receding back. When I have him at my mercy, I’ll show him what it feels like to be so pitiful and insignificant. He’ll howl at my feet and beg me to spare him attention.

“Empress.” Tessa’s voice cuts through my daydream. “Are you all right?”

I snap out of my trance and pull to my full height. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She looks at me with a dubious expression. “You have a weird way of smiling.”

My fingers fly to my lips. “I didn’t smile.”

“You did. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“You’re hallucinating.”

“But I—”

“Tessa! When the empress says she didn’t smile, then she didn’t, understand?”

I hurry after Ezra.

He stops in front of a carved door that must be in the far corner of his residence.

“Quan, it’s me.” He barely knocks at the door before it swings open, revealing a small-built woman in her late forties with her hair styled in a severe bun.

I tilt my head back. This is the woman who had snuck the emperor away from the palace to protect him from his father’s mistresses and raise him in a village. While I admire her bravery, I can’t help recalling our many unpleasant encounters. She had made it clear that I might be the empress, but she was the one who’d run Ezra’s palace.

Even now, she looks at me with the corner of her lips turned down. “And this is … ?”

“Auntie, she’s the empress.” Tessa squeezes herself between Ezra and me.

Quan nods. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. Please come in.”

I manage a smile as I follow Ezra in.

The room is unlike any other room in the palace. The furniture is only made of modest bamboo, the floor is not padded with fur, and there are no silk screens or expensive paintings in sight. Table and cushions rest on a simple red rug in the center of the room. Against the walls lean a couple lounge chairs with side tables separating them. Everything is impeccably organized. Even the three placemats are arranged exactly parallel to the edges of the table.

“Tessa, go get another placemat and silverware for Her Majesty,” Quan says.

“Yes, Auntie.” Tessa dashes out, leaving the three of us.

Ezra sits on one of the cushions with his legs folded, not bothering to introduce Quan to me.

“Your Majesty, why don’t you set the pot down and sit?” Quan gestures at the cushion next to Ezra as she takes a seat on the one across from him.

I place the pot on a side table against the closest wall. “Your Majesty, please accept my gift and apology.” I turn to Ezra.

He nods without saying anything, but I catch him glancing at the black peony.

I don’t realize how close the seats are to each other until I sit down on the dark brown cushion next to Ezra. My body stiffens and I place both hands on my lap, afraid to move in case I accidentally brush his shoulder.

As soon as Tessa comes back with placemats, plates, and silverware, Quan serves the food.

I pick at the green beans and glance at the three dishes and soup in the center of the table. I’ve never seen those dishes before. They’re so … simple. Even when I ran away with Draven, he’d made sure our foods were appetizing as well as visually appealing, unlike the dishes of green beans, chunks of meat, and a mass of noodles in front of me.

“If Your Majesty is not used to my cooking, I can send an order to the kitchen.” Quan glances at me.

“There is no need.” I stuff the spoonful of dark soup, which I had been staring at for a while, into my mouth.

The questionably-colored soup tastes surprisingly acceptable, although I’m sure the royal kitchen can come up with something much better.

“Darian, have some chicken. You didn’t eat much this morning.” Quan dishes some chunks of meat onto Ezra’s plate.

“Auntie, Auntie, I want some too.” Tessa lifts her plate and smiles way too widely for a mistress of an emperor.

Ezra grunts. He’s still expressionless, like usual, but I think the tension on his lips softens a bit and warmth seeps into his cold eyes.

Out of the three of them, only Tessa chatters away about the palace, the people, and the upcoming reception from ambassadors in various kingdoms. Quan is busy piling food on everyone’s plates and occasionally responding to Tessa, while Ezra remains silent throughout the meal.

Gradually, my hand lowers. I listen to Tessa without hearing a word she’s yapping. I want to say something to let them know I’m still here, but nothing comes out.

This table, with its simple design, is not where I belong. No matter that Ezra is my husband and I’m the empress of Viscent Empire, there is no place for me here.

I drop the spoon and stand.

“Is there something wrong, Your Majesty?” Quan dabs her lips with the edge of a linen and pulls to her feet.

“I just remember I have to do something,” I say, looking at Ezra.

He doesn’t spare me a glance, and so I leave the room without further ado.

As I walk down the wide hallway, trying to trace my steps out of the maze of corridors, I reach for my amulet. I wasn’t happy when I entered Ezra’s residence, but for some reason, I’m less happy now than before. And the way the two guards look at me when I walk out the door alone stings my pride.

I’m the only legitimate daughter of House of Ufran and the current empress of this empire. I don’t need anyone’s pity.

So what if my husband doesn’t like me? He’s not the only emperor who doesn’t care for his empress. Few emperors marry for love, and Ezra certainly isn’t one of them. I have House of Ufran. I have fame and riches. That’s all that matters.

For some reason, no matter how many times I repeat that to myself, there is an emptiness in my chest that threatens to swallow me whole. Then the sun suddenly glares too brightly, and different colored lights flash in the periphery of my vision.

My heart sinks. Not now. Not in front of Ezra’s men, who had just seen me cast out of his residence.

I lift my dress and hurry away.

Gardens and paved paths blur around me. Everything seems to sway back and forth. The first pulse of pain in my head comes and intensifies by the second. I bite my lip as I half drag myself into the shade of trees.

When I think I’m alone, I slump against a tree and grab my head with both hands.

No. Don’t let this happen. Please go away. No one is here to help me. Reenan has my pills!

I take breath after shuddering breath each time the pulses of headache comes.

I don’t know how I got to the ground, but before I realize it, my body is crunched up in a tense position. When wind blows past, the coolness on my cheeks suggests that I might’ve cried.

I need to stop. Someone will come at any minute.

My nails dig into my head, and a different kind of pain explodes. Then someone grabs my shoulders and shakes me. Through the flashes of light and color, I can’t tell who he is.

He seems to be talking to me, but all I hear is noise.

Hands clasp mine, forcing them away from my head. He slips something into my mouth before I can react. The round pill tastes like the bitter concoction Reenan always gives me when I have the headaches. Then gradually, the flashes of light die down and the headache recedes.

When the glare disappears, the face above mine comes into focus.

I lie there, frozen to the spot as my eyes trace every curve and every dip on Draven’s face.

“What is your name?” he asks.

His voice is soothing and his eyes are gentle, like the many times he had tricked me into believing that I really matter to him.

My chest heaves, and I’m not sure if it’s from the headache or from his proximity. I should get up and order him to be flogged, or at least slap him across the face. He lied to me and made me fall in love with him, only to cast me aside. How could he do that? How dare he do that! Doesn’t he know that I gave him my heart and soul—my everything?

My eyes burn. I glare at him without once looking away, afraid that if my eyeballs move, the tears will leak out.

He pulls himself up and offers me a hand. The smile on his lips is too bright for a treacherous man like him.

“I’m Draven, a royal healer. What is your name?” he says.

“None of your business.” I push myself from the ground. This time around, I don’t want to know him.

His smile falters. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” I turn away. I don’t think I can look at his face for another second without either screaming or crying.

My hand grips my amulet so tightly that it feels numb. An ache radiates from my heart. It’s not as debilitating as my headaches, but it’s no less painful.

“Wait! My family specializes in all manner of headaches. If you need help, you can find me at Healer’s Wing.”

His expression looks sincere, like he really wants to help a stranger, but he knows who I am. How could he not? I’m the empress he planned to seduce and bend to his will. From the first time we met, he’d told me nothing but lies.

“I haven’t seen headaches that severe for a long time. Did you see lights before it started? Was there nausea? Which tower do you work in? I can go find you when I have time.” His hazel eyes gleam.

I do a slow blink. “Which tower … you think I’m a maid?”

“Are you not?” The question comes out genuine, as if he really doesn’t know.

I narrow my eyes, trying to determine if this is another of his skillfully told lies. And how could he mistake me for a maid? Do I look like a maid?

But then, I don’t have any attendants with me, like empresses or mistresses are supposed to have. I glance down at my dress, which isn’t the typical elaborate style an empress would wear.

“I’m Sila,” I say while staring at him for any signs of surprise.

His gaze doesn’t even waver. Maybe it is possible he really doesn’t know me. Yet.

“I work at the empress’s tower,” I continue.

“Empress Ursila Ufran?” A small frown turns down the corner of his lips.

“Is that a problem?” I cock my head.

“No.”

Liar!

I’m about to whip around to go when I think of something. Wait. He doesn’t know I’m Ursila, and he’s the only one who can cure my headaches. Why can’t I use him to heal me? He owes me that much.

“Draven Siren, I accept your offer,” I say.

His brows furrow. “How do you know my last name?”

“That doesn’t matter. You have ten days to come up with my cure.”

“Ten days? I have a lot of work—”

“That’s your problem.”

“I—”

“Do you intend to break another promise to me?” He promised he would love me forever, but he never loved me. He promised me we would grow old together, but there wasn’t a single white hair on my head the day he left me.

“You have to at least tell me your symptoms.”

I’m about to do just that when I hear footsteps beyond the trees. “Meet me in the forest outside the empress’s tower at midnight. I have to go.” I pick up my dress and hurry off. It’d be horrible to be caught alone with Draven. More importantly, whoever is coming might recognize me, and Draven will realize that I’m Empress Ursila, the girl he blames for his family’s demise.

“Sila, I—” He calls after me, but I’m too far away to hear him clearly. Or maybe I don’t want to hear.

When I’m a safe distance away from the forest, I want to slap myself. Why did I have to ask him to meet me at midnight? If we’re caught, it’s that much worse.

The words just came out in a reflex, like the many times I’d told him the exact words in our last life.

I stop in the middle of a path to press my heart. Dull pain radiates from it again. Draven had cured me of my headaches in my last life, but he gave me another type of pain.

My fingers ball into a fist, crinkling the fabric near on my chest. I clench my jaw so hard that it hurts. I must be a silly girl in his eyes. So gullible and naïve. I can just imagine him laughing with Serene behind my back.

“Your Majesty.” Reenan greets me at my tower. “How was it?”

“How was what?” I ask. I hope she didn’t notice the residue of dirt on my clothes.

“Your time with the emperor. Did he fall madly in love with you? Did he regret not coming to your marriage bed?” Her eyes glitter with excitement.

“Um … no.”

“Oh.” She can’t hide the disappointment in her tone. Then she says, “He’s just shy.”

Shy? Ezra? Somehow, I doubt that. His skin is as thick as a toad’s. The sun would rise from the west the day I see a blush on his face.

“What do you want to wear tomorrow?” Reenan walks me to my suite.

“The burgundy dress with the lace,” I say. I can hardly think about tomorrow when I have to meet with Draven tonight.

She chews her lip. “But that’s way too simple. The ambassadors will think less of you.”

“Ambassadors?”

“You’re supposed to welcome the ambassadors with the emperor tomorrow.”

I pause in the middle of the hall.

Ambassadors. Right. I’m supposed to greet the ambassadors who come from our neighboring kingdoms to congratulate the new emperor and empress. I totally forgot about that. Maybe because in my last life, I never met the ambassadors due to the rash that broke out on my face after I applied Zeia’s powdered pearl. Serene had to greet them on my behalf.

My fingers caress my smooth cheeks. There is no rash this time. That means it’ll be me who will sit by the emperor’s side tomorrow.

“Then prepare the golden dress with the diamonds.” I enter my suite.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

While Reenan is busy brushing imaginary dust off the golden dress and trying to find the most suitable tiara, I sift through my wardrobe for something to wear tonight.

The black gown is too bulky for a secret meeting. The silver one would draw too much attention. But then, the gray one looks too dull.

“Your Majesty, what are you doing? I thought we’ve decided on the golden dress,” Reenan asks.

“I … ” I look at the mass of dresses I pulled out of various chests and don’t know what to say. I can’t exactly tell her I’m meeting with a royal healer in the middle of the night, and somehow, none of my clothes are suitable for the occasion. Not that I want to dress up for Draven again.

I could just wear anything, really—I don’t even have to change—but I can’t help looking through the chests and thinking if he sees me in my most flattering gown, he’ll regret ever leaving me.

The idea is ridiculous. He doesn’t even know me now, much less remember what had happened in our previous life. He won’t know that we’ve had months together as lovers fleeing across the empire to escape the evil emperor. He won’t remember the soft smile on his face whenever he looks at me or my laughter he said he could listen to all day long.

My hand loosens its grip and a dress flutters to my feet. Of course, all of that is an act. He didn’t really like my laughter all that much if he didn’t think twice about killing it with his betrayal.

After Reenan serves dinner in my suite, I excuse all of my maids and wait for midnight. When the time comes, I grab a simple black cloak and throw it over my shoulders.

I sneak out of my chambers through a hidden staircase at the end of the hall that I discovered in my last life. The narrow staircase must’ve been designed for the serving staff. Now, a tapestry hides its entrance and dust covers the stairs.

My heart thumps as the tapestry falls into place behind me, casting me in complete darkness. I forgot I hadn’t left the undersea crystal in this passage yet and there are no windows or torches.

I’m tempted to turn back and grab a candle, but I’m afraid of waking up my maids, some of whom are light sleepers, so I proceed down the flight of steps, taking care to find footholds before I trust the stairs with my weight.

My foot connects with something hard, like a rock, and I stumble forward, flailing until I catch my balance on the nearby wall. The tickling sensation sends a shiver down my spine. Then something sharp bites my forefinger. That has to be a cobweb and a spider! I snatch back my hand and rub the feeling off, trying to ignore the throbbing pain.

The next time I come down this way, I’ll bring the undersea crystal Rutun gave me! If not for the fear of someone finding out my secrets, I would’ve had my maids scrub this passage from top to bottom.

I slip my hands into my cloak, trying not to touch anything as I descend.

The stairway ends in a dusty room that could’ve once been a kitchen but is now a storage room for useless gadgets that are too wasteful to throw away. Using the dim light of the moon through the small window, I sidestep the table with one missing chair and the armoire with an irremovable stain.

The wooden door groans as I yank it open. I peek outside to make sure no one is there before I slip out of the room and down the hall to the back door of my tower.

The night grows deep. I hurry toward the willow forest just beside my tower.

Brushing away the long leaves of willows, I search the forest for Draven.

He’s not here! The longer I search, the tighter my lips press together. Anger and disappointment fume in my head.

I shouldn’t be surprised. I never told him I’m the empress, so he doesn’t have any obligation to do what I asked. I’m also not his lover now, so he doesn’t need to please me. What did I expect anyway? Any sensible man wouldn’t meet a girl he barely knows at midnight close to the empress’s tower. No matter if the girl is a maid or not, romantic relationships between healers or any man and palace women are strictly prohibited.

But the forest is too dark. The eerie sounds of the night make me weak. I wrap my arms around my body to suppress it from trembling. In the depths of this night, when everyone has curled up in his bed, I’m alone in the middle of a forest, waiting for a man who will never come.

I press my lips together and turn to go. Before I take two steps, a vine of some sort trips me over and pain explodes.

I should jump up right away and return to my tower, vowing to make Draven’s life a living hell, but my body doesn’t do what my head tells it. My eyes burn as if someone has set them on fire.

I sit on the moist forest floor to catch my breath. Scratches from my knees and palms bring tears to my eyes. I wipe off the tears with the back of my hand, using more force than necessary.

“What are you doing?”

Draven’s voice makes me jump out of my skin. I look up to glare at him as he crouches in front of me.

In the darkness, I can barely make out his features. He studies me for a moment. “You are injured.”

“Where were you? Why were you not here sooner? Do you know how long I searched for you?” Anger seeps into my voice of its own accord. I don’t even know why I’m so upset. I should not have any expectations for him, so it shouldn’t matter to me whether he comes.

“I was so busy and tired today. I took a nap and overslept. Sorry, Sila.”

The moon shines down on his face. His smile looks so bright that the rest of my scolding gets stuck in my throat.

“You made me wait for a long time. It was pitch black. I couldn’t see anything, and I fell, and a spider bit me. It’s all your fault,” I say.

“I’m sorry, Sila.” He takes out something from the sack hanging on his belt. “This is for the spider bite.”

I take the jar from him. “I was afraid someone would find me here, and I wouldn’t be able to explain why I was here. At any minute, my head will begin to hurt.”

“How do you know when your headache will start?” His voice sounds calm and soothing in the night.

“It usually does when I’m stressed or upset.”

“Is it preceded or accompanied by any sensation?”

“Flashes of light. Nausea. Blurred vision,” I say. “Sunlight and lack of sleep make it worse. Rest makes it better.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while. Even without seeing him clearly, I can guess the expression on his face. His brows must be furrowed and his lashes shading his eyes, like they always did when he was thinking about medicinal concoctions and antidotes.

I remain quiet, giving him the time to think uninterrupted.

Then a chuckle escapes his throat. “I thought of something to prevent the headaches. Give me a week to mix the concoction.” He jumps up from the ground. “Meanwhile, use this to relieve the pain.” He stuffs a cool vial into my hand.

I unplug the cork and sniff the contents. The pungent scent smells all too familiar. If I didn’t know better, I would think he got this from Reenan. “I’ve been using this kind of pellets for years. It no longer works well for me.”

“I don’t remember giving you those pellets before.”

“My father has our family healer make them for me.”

“That’s impossible. No one else would have the formula to this concoction, not since …”

“Not since what?” I can’t resist asking.

He grows silent for a long moment. Finally, he says, “It’s getting late.”

“Not since what?” I repeat.

He doesn’t say anything for a while. When I give up on an answer, he sighs. “Not since they all died.” His voice is so small that I barely catch the words.

“Who died?” My heart squeezes and I can’t breathe. I take a step toward him.

He looks away from me. “I have to go back to Healer’s Wing.”

“But you didn’t answer my question.”

“Sila—”

“Answer my question.” And why is he blaming my family for everything?

“They died because of a girl.” He didn’t say anymore. From the tightness in his tone, I know I can’t get anything out of him today. He exits the forest, and I follow him.

We don’t talk for the longest time. Only the noise of our footsteps resounds in the night.

“Sila? Meet me at Healer’s Wing the next time. It’s too risky coming here at this hour,” he says when we get to the edge of the forest. “If the empress caught us, she’d flog us senseless.”

I arch my eyebrow. The only one I want to flog is him. “The empress wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“You never know.”

What does that mean? No matter. I don’t care what he thinks of me. I just need him to produce the cure. After I get my cure, he’ll pay for stealing my heart and crushing it under his boot.

“I’ll find you in a week,” I say before I hurry to my tower and slip into the door I left unlocked.

Chapter 4

“Your Majesty.”

An annoying bee buzzes in my ears. I swat it away, but it doesn’t leave me alone.

“Your Majesty.”

Someone nudges my shoulder. I flip over to my side and drag the warm blanket over my head.

“Your Majesty! You’re late.”

The blanket is yanked from me, leaving me shivering in the chill of the morning. My head pounds.

“What is this?” The person grabs my hand. “Why are there scars on your hand?”

The question jolts me awake. I yank my hand back from Reenan. “It’s nothing. I accidentally fell yesterday.”

“You fell? When? How come I didn’t know?”

“You weren’t with me at the time.” That’s not exactly a lie.

“Was it at the emperor’s residence?” Her eyes grow wide. “Did he push you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I suppress a sigh. “I fell. It was an accident.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Reenan, what am I late for?” I cut off her overactive imagination.

Her head jerks to the window where sunlight pours in. “Everyone must be waiting for you.” She pulls me from the bed and pushes me down on the chair before a vanity mirror.

The ambassadors! How could I forget? “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

“I tried to, Your Majesty, but you slept like a pig.”

No comment.

I splash my face with the basin of water on the table. My palms sting from contact with water, but they look much better than the swollen mess the day before. I’m also pleased to see that my finger has returned to its normal size.

Reenan pulls the magnificent golden dress over my shoulders and adorns my hair with a sparkling tiara. We exit the tower where a large, tasteful sedan is waiting. The six porters bow before me the moment I appear and tilt the sedan forward so I can climb in.

Reenan motions for the porters to follow her, and with a slight sway, we’re off toward the main entrance of the palace where the emperor holds court.

I wish the sedan were covered on all sides and not so open. That way, I don’t have to stifle my yawn and sit straight on the chair, always presenting a regal image to passersby.

There is quite a distance between my tower and the throne room, but I arrive sooner than I’m ready.

“Your Majesty, we’re here.” Reenan pokes her head into the sedan.

The porters set the sedan on the ground, and I take Reenan’s hand to descend the chair.

My stomach flips as I stand in front of the magnificent white building where Viscent emperors have held court for hundreds of years. The stones glitter under the sun and wide stairs arch toward the grand door on both sides.

I’m late. Everyone must be here already. If I come in there now, I would most likely interrupt something and become the center of attention. I never liked parties and receptions anyway. If I turn back now, I could tell Ezra I was sick and couldn’t come. That was the excuse I’d given almost every party invitation before. And it’s not completely a lie. My condition demands that I don’t get into stressful situations.

“Your Majesty?” Reenan nudges me.

But then, this is not just a normal party. This is ambassadors from our surrounding kingdoms paying respect to the new emperor and empress. They might be upset if the empress couldn’t attend for minor reasons, not to mention Ezra would be angry with me, like he was in my last life.

I sigh and pick up my dress to walk toward the arched stairway. I take every step with care, trying to ascend as gracefully as I can in my beautiful but hard slippers. The sentinels’ eyes widen at my approach. As I enter the wide doorway, they announce all too loudly, “Her Majesty, Empress Ursila Ufran!”

I wince. Their voices carry throughout the huge room, and everyone stands as all eyes turn to me.

That’s why I hate social events. I hold my head high and walk toward the end of the hall where Ezra sits on a throne. I always feel like a peacock on display.

Rows of low tables and cushions are set on either side of the wide red carpet. Many of the tables are already occupied with nobles and foreigners. They all stare at me, no matter if its awe in their eyes or disdain. Reenan told me I’m apparently quite famous, although I don’t understand why since I rarely left my house. Her chin was lifted when she said that, but somehow, I don’t believe I’m famous in a good way.

I find my father and mother on the seats closest to the throne. Too close. Someone had added a dais midway up the stairs and placed seats with a side table on it. As I study the beautifully carved silver seats, I can’t help but compare them to the throne.

Father acknowledges me with a tilt of his head. His expressionless face makes my stomach tighten. Not until I see the warm smile on my mother’s lips do I let go of the breath I’m holding.

“Ursila, sit,” Father commands.

For a moment, I freeze where I am. No one says anything, but I didn’t miss the sharp intakes of breath from some younger nobles and ambassadors.

I’m my father’s daughter. He has every right to order me around. But now, I’m also the empress of Viscent Empire. In front of the entire court and the ambassadors from other kingdoms, his tone is too sharp.

Looking from Father’s chair to his face, I can’t help but remember the words on the announcement board condemning House of Ufran. Arrogance and disrespect for the emperor’s regime. Overstepping authorities.

I glance at Ezra and am relieved he doesn’t show any signs of anger. In fact, he isn’t even looking at us, stroking the fox on his lap as though the whole room of people, including my father and me, is nothing but air.

“Your Majesty, the royal kitchen is serving your favorite, roast venison. They did a wonderful job.” My mother’s smile is a little stiff.

“Excellent,” I respond, glad she provides a diversion from Father’s command. I climb the steps to Ezra as fast as I can without appearing to be in a rush. When I’m there, I take a seat. My golden gown swishes around my legs before settling down.

The entire hall remains quiet as everyone continues to stare at me. I want to ask Reenan discreetly if there is something stuck between my teeth or if my tiara has dislodged from the center of my head.

Reenan signals me with her eyes, which keep darting between me and the people below the dais. I have no idea what she means.

“Empress, how long do you plan to have everyone stand around before you allow us to sit?” A huge man with an overgrowth of body hair bellows.

My cheeks burn. “You may sit.” Why didn’t someone tell me they need my permission? Ezra is right next to me. He could’ve whispered something under his breath, but he didn’t do anything.

I should’ve just stayed in my tower. My favorite roasted venison fails to stimulate my appetite.

Hairy Man’s mouth curls, baring his pointy teeth. “Emperor, I’m here to congratulate you on your coronation. My king wants me to give you this.” He hauls an oversized package from behind him. Yanking the black cloth off, he uncovers a gigantic iron bow.

Father gestures for two of the servants to take the bow. The servants receive the gift from Hairy Man, but the moment Hairy Man lets go of the bow, the bow falls, crushing the two manservants.

Their cries echo throughout the hall, along with Hairy Man’s laughter.

“Viscent Empire forgot the brutality of wars. Everyone here is too soft.” Hairy Man looks pointedly at the emperor and me.

If this is the image we present to ambassadors from our neighboring kingdom, then Viscent Empire would be torn apart in no time by war-hungry nations eager to take over our land.

We can’t appear weak. Not today, in front of those people.

“You are Iender, Yonte Kingdom’s general, right?” Father speaks. “I’m glad our manservants amuse you.” Then he says, “General Wayne, why don’t you show our friend here what we are made of?”

“Father,” I say before Wayne rises to his feet. “I don’t need our general to receive a gift from Yonte Kingdom.” Even if Wayne can pick up that bow, it’s to be expected. If he can’t, then we become the laughingstock in front of all those guests. I have to kill Yonte Kingdom’s urge to overpower us before they send an army to our empire.

I glance around the hall until my gaze rests on a young guard standing at his post against the wall.

“You.” I point at him. “What is your name?”

The dark-haired guard points at himself. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” I say. He wrestled a crazed stallion to the ground and saved Ezra in my last life. Ever since, he had become Ezra’s personal bodyguard and right-hand man.

“I am Gabryl, Your Majesty.” He takes a tentative step forward.

“Gabryl, pick up the bow.” I don’t respond to Iender’s snicker.

Father frowns but doesn’t say anything.

All eyes shift from me to Gabryl. He must not have been used to all the attention because halfway there, he stumbles on the edge of the red carpet. His fair face flushes bright red as someone chuckles.

He glances at me, and I give him a reassuring smile. His eyes fix on me for a moment before he takes a breath and continues his way to the bow.

He picks up the giant bow and holds it over his head as though the bow weighs nothing. Then he kneels on one knee before me. “Your Majesty, where do you want me to put this?”

I don’t need to hear the hisses to know everyone’s shock.

I smile at him and relax in my chair. “This is a gift for His Majesty. Why don’t you ask him?”

Gabryl turns to Ezra. “Your—”

“So what if the boy can pick up the bow?” Iender interrupts. I can almost see the puffs of air huffing out of his nostrils. “On battlefields, it only counts if arrows hit their targets.”

“We’re here to celebrate His Majesty’s coronation, not to watch a display of shooting techniques.” Father narrows his eyes on Iender.

“Such a pity. I was expecting the empire that invented single-hand bows to be a master at archery. Or did you invent them because no one here knows how to shoot?” He takes out a smaller bow and launches an arrow in a single smooth motion. Before anyone can reprimand him for bringing weapons to the throne room, he’d already released the arrow.

The arrow shoots straight at me. My body turns stiff as it pierces through the air and comes at me with unstoppable speed. I see it coming, but I can’t do a thing about it. My heart stops beating and everything fades away. Just before it nails my tiara to the wall behind me, another faster arrow shoots it down.

It takes me a while to realize what’s going on. When I find the second arrow nailing the first one against a pillar, creating a crack in the impeccable ivory, cold sweat breaks out on my forehead.

“What is the meaning of this?” Father hits his palm on his table. “Is this your king’s wish? To make war with Viscent Empire?”

Even Ezra sets his pet down and frowns at Iender.

Iender’s hairy face looks a little pale as he stares at the two arrows on the pillar. “No. I was aiming for the woman’s tiara.”

“The empress’s tiara.” Reenan steps forward. Her voice is loud enough to carry throughout the hall. “Which is just above her head. What if you missed?”

“I wouldn’t miss.”

“You could. If you missed, you would have killed Her Majesty. Have you thought about that? Even if you hadn’t, it’d give her a fright.”

“She’s just a woman. I’m sure the emperor won’t have trouble replacing her.”

Reenan’s face looks so red that I fear it’ll explode. For once, she has nothing to retort.

Rage burns my body. I knew of Yonte Kingdom’s treatment of women, but I never knew it was that bad. Yonte’s king must be trying to pick a fight. Who in his right mind would send someone like Iender as an ambassador?

I can’t swallow my bitterness and let this go. Everyone would label me as a pushover if I do. But how do I get back at the ambassador without ensuring a war with Yonte Kingdom?

Before I have time to think, another arrow shoots out, faster and stronger than Iender’s arrows. The hall grows silent as the arrow pierces through Iender’s tangle of hair and traps his head against the pillar behind him.

I draw in a deep breath and realize the person who had released the two arrows to save me is Gabryl, who still has his hand on the bow.

The shock on Iender’s face makes everything worthwhile. As he struggles to pull his hair from the arrow, someone chuckles. A second later, the nobles burst out in laughter.

Iender yanks at the arrow, but no matter how hard he tries, the arrow won’t budge. He finally snaps it in half and frees himself. “Emperor, is that what you want? To go to war with Yonte Kingdom?”

“No.” For the first time since I came in, Ezra speaks.

Of course, he wouldn’t go to war for me. I’m the empress he never wanted. That jerk would probably be glad if Iender missed and killed me on the spot.

“But Viscent Empire won’t tolerate disrespect.” Ezra sits straighter and leans forward, like a lion just awakened. His eyes catch the sharp gleam from the sun. “Ursila is my empress, and no ambassador from any neighboring kingdom will shoot an arrow through her tiara. Am I clear?”

My heart pounds. I look at the man sitting beside me and don’t recognize him from the indifferent but harmless guy at the dinner table. A mixture of emotions roils within me. He is defending me. He said I’m his empress. While my eyes moisten from his words, I can’t help but stare at him. When he beheaded my family, did he also look at my mother and siblings with this hard, unyielding gaze?

For a long moment, no one in the hall speaks. Iender’s lips turn white and all nobles become mute.

Father looks at Ezra with darkened eyes, and I shift in my seat.

Then Ezra relaxes, directing his attention back to the fox on his lap, as though the person who had commanded the hall was not him.

The effects of his anger are gone, but no one speaks a word. I chew my lip for a second before I raise my head and clap my hands.

“Such a display of archery skills! Gabryl deserves to be promoted, don’t you think, Your Majesty?” I say.

He grunts, but from the way he looks at Gabryl, I know he’s interested in making him his right-hand man again.

“As for Iender of Yonte Kingdom.” I narrow my eyes on the hairy man. All traces of a smile leave my lips. “I don’t want to see you anywhere in Viscent Empire ever again. Gabryl here has the tendency to miss targets with his arrows. The next time you show yourself, he might accidentally shoot an arrow into your face. Do you understand?”

Even beneath all that hair, I can make out his reddened skin. He glares at me with a look that could kill before he kicks his table over. Porcelain bowls and plates of food spill onto the floor as he storms out of the hall with his people.

After he leaves, the heaviness in the atmosphere is undeniable.

I know what everyone is afraid of. When Iender goes back to his kingdom, he’ll support an all-out war with Viscent Empire, if only to get back at us for what has happened. Yonte warriors are a strong lot. And if they find allies in our enemy, Nungul Empire, then we might not win.

Already, I catch several nobles looking at me with disapproval. They might blame me for the war, but have they thought about what would happen if I swallow the anger and pretend this never happened? Even if no one likes me, I’m still the empress. If an ambassador can jokingly shoot an arrow through the empress’s tiara without repercussion, then Viscent Empire might as well dissolve.

Slow claps break the silence. A skinny man with dry leather skin and a pointy beard stands from his seat among the ambassadors.

“Viscent Empire has strong men, a strong empress,” he says, “and a strong regent.” His gaze shifts from me to my father.

I wince. The last emperor asked my father to overlook Ezra’s reign until Ezra become more experienced, but Father was never officially assigned the title regent. For a foreigner to comment on my father’s power in front of the emperor would just turn the emperor against my family even more.

“I am Xren of Rhan Kingdom. I wish for Your Majesty’s longevity and eternal health.” The skinny man holds up a crimson coral reef in two gloved hands.

I lean on the edge of my seat to get a better look at the spiky coral. Crimson coral reefs are rare, but it’s a little on the cheap side to act as a gift from a neighboring kingdom to an emperor of one of the most powerful empires.

I guess it’s much better than the iron bow that no one except Gabryl can use.

Father motions for two manservants to receive the coral. The moment the two servants touch the reef, they freeze. Their faces turn blue, and white foam bubbles from the edges of their lips.

As they drop to the floor, Father jumps from his seat. “Xren, what is this?”

Xren smiles at Father, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that he has just poisoned two of our guards in front of so many witnesses. “Your Grace and Your Majesty, I didn’t get a chance to explain our gift before the servants so impatiently touched it.” Xren holds the reef above his head. “This is eternal reef. It might be poisonous on the outside, but it’s a secret to eternal youth and life.”

Lies! If a reef can give eternal youth and life, then Rhan kings and queens would be young forever.

“Of course, eternal is an overstatement.” As though reading my thoughts, Xren continues. “My king wants me to give this to Your Majesty.”

Father looks from the poisoned servants to Xren’s gloved hands. He orders people to attend to the poisoned servants before whispering something to a guard behind him. That guard then wraps his hands in layers of handkerchief.

I sit on the edge of my seat and watch the guard pick up the reef. He’s about to turn around and bring the gift to the throne when his face turns pale. Xren catches the reef with both hands just before the guard falls.

Xren’s smile is a tad too wide. I swear that all ambassadors must be looking to pick a fight today. Otherwise, why would they bring such gifts to Viscent Empire?

“My king thought that an empire as large as Viscent Empire would have someone who knows the secrets of eternal reef, but …” He shakes his head in half disappointment and half conceit. “I will bring the reef back to my king and ask him to give a less challenging gift.”

I grind my teeth. For him to do that would mean Viscent Empire lacks competent healers, which is not true. Draven’s face crosses my mind. If I call on him, he would find a way to take and use the eternal reef. His name is on the tip of my tongue before I stop myself. He doesn’t know that Sila is Empress Ursila. If he comes, he’ll find out who I am.

“Tell the chief royal healer to come here right now,” Father orders.

The tightness in my chest relaxes just a little. Yes, there is the chief royal healer. Surely, he would know how to receive the eternal reef, if not how to use it.

The few minutes we wait last forever. Some nobles shift in their seats uncomfortably while some whisper to their neighbors. I rub my temple. A sense of dread seizes me as I feel the first throb of a headache.

I tug at Reenan’s sleeve, and as if she knows exactly what I want, she steps in front of me, covering me from most people’s view while she slips a vial of pellets into my hand. I swallow three pellets and wash it down with the wine on my table. When I set down the wine, I catch Ezra looking at me.

I thought he was going to ask me about the pellets, but he turns away as though nothing abnormal has happened.

I gulp down the contents of my goblet. This doesn’t mean anything. So what if Ezra finds out about my headaches? Nothing will change.

“Chief Royal Healer Issac and Royal Healer Draven!” the sentinel outside announces.

My heart skips a beat.

Draven is here! Now, in front of the whole court, to expose me. But I still need him to cure my headaches. I’m not ready to become the Ursila he hates. If I pretend I’m sick right now …

No, too late. They’re already here.

My gaze settles on the sheer golden handkerchief in my pocket. I tie it around the lower half of my face.

“Your Majesty?” Reenan looks at me with her eyebrow raised.

I fake a cough.

“Are you feeling unwell? Should we retire for the day?” she asks.

“I’ll manage,” I say. As long as Draven doesn’t recognize me, I want to stay for the entire party. I hope no one asks about my sudden need to cover my face.

“Your Majesties.” The two healers in blue robes kneel below the throne.

Ezra gestures for them to rise.

As they stand, Draven stares at me with his intense hazel eyes. I gulp, wondering if he recognized me despite the fabric covering half of my face. The furrow between his eyes and the resentment in his gaze give me my answer.

He didn’t recognize me. He hates Empress Ursila, daughter of House of Ufran, not Sila, a maid.

“Issac,” Father says, “Rhan Kingdom presents to us the treasured eternal reef.”

The old healer’s eyes brighten. He stares at the crimson coral reef with a mixture of excitement and regret. “No one knows how to use the eternal reef to elongate youth and life. The secret was lost decades ago.”

That’s why Rhan Kingdom offered the reef as a gift. If no one knows how to use it, then it’s just a poisonous object whose only purpose is to look pretty on a shelf.

“But we can figure it out.” The moment Draven catches sight of the reef, his eyes glow like stars in the sky. He walks toward Xren, never tearing his gaze from the reef. “This is a gift for His Majesty? Such generosity!” He reaches out to take the reef.

Everyone freezes as Draven receives the reef from Xren. Before anyone can warn him that the reef is poisonous, it’s already in Draven’s arms.

I stare at Draven, expecting him to drop down like the servants with foam bubbling out of his mouth. It’d serve him right for betraying me, but it would be another blow to Viscent Empire’s ego.

One second later, nothing happens.

Two seconds. Three seconds.

Draven stares at the reef in his hands, examining every bump and spike while everyone else stares at him.

“Healer’s Wing thanks you for the gift.” At long last, Draven raises his head to face the shocked Xren. Then he turns to the emperor. “Rest assured. I’ll figure out the secrets behind eternal reef.”

No one says anything until Chief Royal Healer Issac breaks the silence. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. Draven is just too excited over the reef. Please forgive him.”

“He’s fine,” Ezra says.

“How did you do it?” Xren takes a step forward. “The exterior of eternal reef is poisonous. Only gloves soaked in a special medicinal concoction can block the poison.”

I know the answer before anyone. Draven had once told me he’s immune to almost all poisons since birth.

“I have my ways,” Draven finally says.

Xren looks from Draven to Ezra. “Viscent Empire not only has strong leaders, but also the best healers. If you ever find out how to use the eternal reef, my king would be forever in your debt if you share the secret.”

“Of course,” Father says.

Xren takes his seat, and I let out the breath I’m holding.

A middle-aged ambassador from Teran Kingdom presents a sparkling yellow diamond the size of my fist. I stare at it, half expecting it to explode. The entire court lets out an audible sigh of relief when nothing happens to the trembling servant who receives the gift.

Then another ambassador gives several rolls of the best quality silk, and another unrolls a scroll of a landscape painting from a famous artist. Gradually, the tension in my shoulders relaxes. I look through the faces of our guests of honor. Only one is left.

“Your Majesty.” The last ambassador stands. He’s a bald man with thick whiskers wearing a golden vest and pants that look like two lanterns. “I am Razi of Wane Kingdom. Please enjoy this performance from our best dancers.”

Wane Kingdom. My eyes spring to Razi, who sits back down in his seat as a group of scantily clad women dance into the hall in tune to sensual music. I’m studying the way Razi’s hands grip his goblet a little too tightly and the gleam of sweat on his forehead when the light dims.

The music becomes louder, and I soon cannot concentrate on Razi’s odd behavior.

My face flushes and my ears burn. The noise … it sounds more like a dozen wanton men and women crying out their pleasure and pain than real music. And the nine voluptuous bodies in the center of the hall … Have they no shame? One is throwing her arms around a noble while another winks at Draven. The clear leader of the pack, a girl whose bosom is too large and lips too full, dances her way up the dais with her eyes on Ezra the whole time.

I shift in my seat, trying to tear my eyes off the girl but find that I can’t. I’m sure Ezra must be like me, too. Otherwise, why doesn’t he reproach the girl for coming too close to the throne? The steps up the dais are not for someone who doesn’t have any business climbing them. Ezra must be enjoying her attention. That jerk!

The flimsy purple dress sways around the girl’s legs, and a slit down the dress reveals tantalizing glimpses of her perfectly shaped thighs.

I’m about to reach for my vial of headache pellets when something shinny on her thigh catches the light of an adjacent candle. I blink and it’s gone.

No, I wasn’t imagining things. I swear I saw something like the hilt of a dagger or the gleam of a weapon. I glance at Razi, who is staring at the girl and Ezra with undivided attention, and I remember something from my last life.

“We were lucky that we weren’t there to greet the ambassadors,” Reenan had said in my last life as she smoothed medicinal cream over my face. “I heard there was an assassination attempt. Wane Kingdom sent a bunch of women to assassinate the emperor so they can create disorder in Viscent Empire and take back the lands they lost to us in wars. Can you believe it?”

“Did they succeed?” I’d gripped the edge of my vanity table.

“Of course not. The whole palace would be in havoc if they had,” she’d said.

I narrow my eyes at the girl as she walks up the steps. She must be the assassin Reenan was talking about. I stiffen in my seat. For a moment, a thousand thoughts cross my mind. I should move away. Her target is not me. I should warn Ezra. But then, she won’t succeed even without my intervention. And shouldn’t I be jumping up and down in happiness if she does end up killing Ezra? Ezra will, in the future, behead my entire family. Then again, if Ezra dies, there is no successor to the throne. Viscent Empire will be thrown into chaos and our neighboring kingdoms and empires will tear Viscent apart and divide it among themselves.

Ezra can’t die, and neither can my family.

I throw myself at Ezra the moment I see the glint near the assassin’s thigh again. Something sharp slashes my back and pain explodes.

“Your Majesty!” Reenan cries at the same time as Gabryl draws out his sword. Then gasps of surprise and sounds of combat fill the room.

I bite my lip, wondering dryly if the assassin had chopped off some of my hair and messed up my hairstyle, as my body slides down Ezra’s.

Hands grab my shoulders and pull me up. The indifference on Ezra’s face is gone, replaced by a perplexed expression.

“Why did you do that?” he asks. “I already noticed the weapon and was prepared for it. You should’ve just stayed put.”

I want to say something to capture his sympathy and win his heart. I threw myself at him because he’s my husband and I love him. I would rather it’s me who gets hurt. Viscent Empire needs him. I need him.

But the sweet talk never comes out. That girl! I miscalculated how deeply she could cut through me. If this doesn’t turn Ezra’s heart toward me, I swear I’ll order the girl flogged with salted iron whips.

The last thing I see before everything blacks out is Ezra’s face bending down to look at me.

Chapter 5

I hiss in pain as someone applies a stinging liquid to my back. My head feels fogged, as if I’m having the worst cold of my life.

“Your Majesty, can you hear me? Are you awake?” Reenan waves her hand in front of my face.

“Yes.” My voice sounds weak, unlike hers, which could wake up the dead. “What happened?”

“What happened? You ask me what happened! Your mother fainted when she saw all the blood gushing from your back, and your father is furious.”

“What about the emperor?” I did all this to win him over. His response is the most important.

“He was here for a while, then he left.”

“What did he say? What was his expression?”

Reenan cocks her head. “He told everyone to take care of you. I didn’t notice his expression. Who had time for that? This could be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, Your Majesty.”

Not as stupid as letting a man trick me into running away with him and giving Ezra the opportunity to chop off all my family members’ heads.

Another wave of pain sends lights dancing in my vision as she continues to dab something on my back.

“What are you doing? I don’t want it!” I swear she enjoys torturing me.

“The royal healer said this would help seal the wound and prevent scars. I have to apply this every three hours.”

Royal healer! “Which one?” I ask. A particularly handsome face comes to mine. My exposed back … my unveiled face! If it’s him, then he has already found out who I am.

“None other than the chief royal healer, of course.”

“Was he alone?” Somehow, in the midst of pain, I’m still very aware of my nudity. Not a single piece of garment is on my upper body except the thin blanket covering me from the trunk down. Ezra was here earlier. Did he also see me like this?

“There was another healer—”

“Which one? Dark-haired or light? Fair or plain?”

“I couldn’t tell.” Reenan dabs another dose of the liquid to my back. “He might’ve been fair once. Now he’s an old man.”

I let out the breath I’m holding. Although I’m still uncomfortable with the idea of being examined by healers while I was unconscious, at least it’s not Draven.

Perhaps because the worry in the back of my mind has dissipated, I notice the heat. Reenan must be burning coal like crazy. It’s so hot. My lips are parched, and I feel like I’ve just run a marathon.

“Reenan …” I say. My throat dries. I really need water or tea.

“The healers said your fever will go away in a day as long as I keep applying the concoction,” Reenan says. “Don’t worry. They promise there won’t be scars.”

“I—”

“I know. It’s His Majesty’s fault. If he had been a suitable and adept emperor, no one would come to assassinate him. What everyone said must be true. He’s just a village boy who doesn’t know how to run the empire.”

“Reenan—” I just want water to quench my thirst.

“His and Her Grace were here to see you earlier. I should’ve told them everything the emperor did!”

“Can you pour me a cup of tea?” I look at the teapot on the table with longing.

“Yes! They just left. If I hurry, I could catch up with them. They’ll think of a way to get you out of this.”

I sigh as Reenan bolts out the door, wondering if she heard a word I was saying.

I call for another maid, but maybe because my voice is too small, no one responds. And so, fighting off the pain in my back and the dryness of my throat, I drift in and out of sleep.

When I wake up, the handsome emperor is looking at me, studying me like he never saw me before. His emerald eyes concentrate on my face with undivided attention while his pet fox curls in his arms.

He clears his throat and says, “I’ve thrown the Wane ambassadors and dancers into the dungeon and have them questioned. We’ll know their intentions soon.”

“Oh,” I manage to croak out.

I try to get up, but I only succeed in pulling my injury.

“No one will get away with this without severe punishment,” he assures me.

Wait. The last time I checked, I was lying on my belly with nothing on except a thin blanket. Suddenly, I become aware of the way he tries not to let his gaze stray from my face.

“Where is Reenan?” If she were here, she wouldn’t think twice about kicking him out.

“Your maid? I saw her running out of the palace.”

That’s why Ezra could come in unstopped.

“Can you answer my question now?” he asks.

“What question?” If I hide my face in the bed sheets, would the satin cool off some of the heat?

“Why did you throw yourself at me yesterday?” He furrows his brows.

Now is the chance! “Because I saw the dagger. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He stares at me for a long time. Just when I think his indifference toward me is melting away like snow in a hot afternoon heat, he says, “You caused unnecessary injury.”

I blink. I can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. Is that what he would say to the girl who saved him? I’m right about him after all. That jerk! He’s not capable of falling in love. He doesn’t have the heart to do it.

Then slowly, his lips soften. His eyes have a faraway look as if he’s remembering something from the past.

“What?” I say. His expression is creeping me out.

“You remind me of a childhood friend,” he says.

“The same one you thought of when we were in the garden?” He couldn’t have many friends.

He nods. “She threw herself in front of me, too, protecting me against bullies with her small body.”

“Is she Tessa?” I ask.

“No.”

“Where is she?” The smile on his lips looks disgustingly bright.

“I don’t know.” He tilts his head.

“What is her name?”

“I don’t know.”

“What does her father do for a living?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you know?” The question comes out too sharp. I regret it as soon as it leaves my lips. I don’t know what came over me, but I just can’t stand the way his emerald eyes sparkle like a gem.

He buries his fingers into Ira’s fur. My body tenses as the fox turns my way. It looks like it’s about to pounce onto my bed before Ezra’s soothing touches convince it otherwise.

“She was brave. She defended me against the bullies in my class who thought I shouldn’t be there,” Ezra says. “She was loving. She—”

“I get it. I get it. She’s a goddess, the perfect girl.” I press my lips, cutting him off.

“Yes. That’s why it’s so weird that you remind me of her.” He looks at me with confusion.

“It is weird, since I’m an evil girl who kicks furry animals.” I sneer.

He studies me for a long, uncomfortable while. “Have you ever been to …”

I lift an eyebrow.

“Never mind,” he says.

Then, the uncertainty in his gaze disappears, replaced by disinterest. He strolls out of my room without a backward glance, as if nothing here is of any importance to him.

I’m not the least bit perturbed. The anger bubbling from my chest is because he compared me with a villager girl. I, Ursila Ufran, am unique. No one in this world is like me, and I won’t ever be anyone’s shadow.

I’ve learned firsthand how short life can be. Accidents happen. In the next minute or the next second, I could cease to exist. I don’t have time to moon over a man whose heart doesn’t belong to me. He matters to me because he’s the emperor, the only person who can prevent my family’s death, and nothing more.

Despite myself, I can’t help but think how lucky Ezra’s childhood friend is. I grab a fistful of bed sheet and bite my lip. There is someone who loves her, even after years and years. Ezra probably refrains from touching his mistresses and wife because of her. She might be a poor village girl, but she has the world.

No, true love doesn’t exist. What feeling Ezra has for the girl is not true love. After a couple years, Ezra would be like any other guy. He would favor one of his mistresses or a girl outside his harem.

A whimper pierces through my thoughts and draws my attention to the foot of the bed. I quickly dab away the moisture at the corner of my eyes and stare down at the little furball.

Ira! I suppress a shriek. Why does it return to my room?

It’s all right. It won’t jump to my bed. If I don’t make a sound, it’ll go away.

One minute passes. Then two. It purrs at me. Why is it not going away?

“Your master left already. He went that way.” I point at the door.

The white fox blinks and raises its head to look at me.

“If you hurry, you can catch up with him,” I say. The way its pupils are focusing on me is spooking me out.

It makes a low, guttural sound that I have no idea how to interpret.

“You don’t know where to go? I can ask one of my maids to show you the way.” Without waiting for a response, I cry, “Reenan! Reenan, are you back?” The fright in my voice increases my volume.

Reenan doesn’t come, but another maid slips in. “Your Majesty, Reenan is not here. What can I do for you?”

“The emperor’s fox is lost,” I say. “Take it to him. Posthaste.” I point at the furball at the foot of my bed.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she says.

As the maid stoops down to pick up the fox, it scurries away. Just before it slips out the door, it turns to look at me one last time.

I let out the breath I was holding. After the maid feeds me some food and water, I drift off to sleep.

Chapter 6

The soft sounds of weeping wake me. I open my eyes to find my mother on a stool in front of my bed. Her handkerchief is drenched with tears.

“Mother.” Despite myself, my eyes moisten. It’s the way white strands gray out her dark purple hair and the way her lips purse together in an effort not to cry aloud that make my heart wrench.

She quickly dabs the moisture from her eyes. “My child, how are you feeling? Does it still hurt?”

I shake my head, suppressing a surge of emotions. This is the woman who tended to me since birth, never leaving my side even when I was sick with contagious diseases. The last time I saw her in my previous life was the night before I was going to feign death and run away with Draven. She was weeping like today over my fake sickness. Her sobs made me feel so horrible that I almost told her it was all pretend. In the end, I didn’t. I chose Draven over the luxury of the palace and the opportunities to see her again. I abandoned her.

A drop of hot tear rolls down my eyes and wets the bed sheet.

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” She wipes off the tear and turns to Reenan, who is standing behind her. “Healers! Call for healers.”

“No, I’m fine,” I say.

My words don’t seen to convince her. She rubs the back of my head over and over, as if her actions could bring soothing relief to my injury.

In a way, it does. Gradually, the tightness in my chest loosens and my breathing calms.

True love doesn’t exist, but there is a special love between a mother and her child that is eternal, a bond that forever binds us. I was blind not to see it before. Men will leave me, but my mother will forever have my back.

“Where is Father?” I ask.

“He returned home,” my mother says.

I nod.

“Reenan told me everything,” she says.

I blink. What exactly did Reenan tell her?

“Don’t worry, Ursila, I’ll get you out of this. You should’ve told me earlier that …” She sighs. “I never approved of this marriage. If I’d held my stand against your father …”

“It’s not your fault.” I reach out to grab one of her soft hands.

“Reenan told me that the marriage has not been consummated. Is that true?” she asks.

My cheeks burn. I glare at Reenan, who is hiding behind my mother. “I—”

“Then it doesn’t count! I’ll talk to your father. He’ll have the marriage annulled.”

For a second, I allow myself to think of that possibility. If the marriage is annulled, then I can go back to my previous life. I don’t have to worry about when Draven would discover who I truly am or the ill intentions of Ezra’s harem. I can start over. If I ever have to marry again, I would choose a man who isn’t exceedingly handsome or rich, but whom I could live in peace with for the rest of my life. There would be no poison, no assassination attempts, and no broken hearts.

“I can’t,” I say, waking up from the beautiful dream I envisioned.

“Why?”

I shake my head but don’t say anything. How do I explain that if I leave Ezra alone, he’ll eventually be the one who will behead the entire House of Ufran?

“You fell in love with His Majesty?” My mother’s eyes widen.

“No, of course not!” Who would fall in love with that murderer?

“If you are worried about the consequences, don’t be. House of Ufran can handle this.”

I look down at my hands. House of Ufran can withstand almost anything right now. Some say that we are more powerful than the boy emperor on the throne. But so what? A year later, that boy emperor will seize power like a lion waking up from a long slumber and make sure there is no one left in House of Ufran to stand in his way.

He must be stopped.

“Mother, why does Father have a seat halfway up the throne?” I ask.

She tilts her head. “Why, the late emperor asked your father to watch over the empire. Your father is essentially the regent.”

“But he wasn’t appointed regent by the late emperor.”

Arrogance and disrespect for the emperor’s regime. Overstepping authorities. I can’t get the words out of my head.

She does a slow blink. “It doesn’t matter. The late emperor had trusted your father with the affairs of the state. It is what he would wish.”

But it’s not what Ezra wants. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Did Father … did Father have any private contact with foreigners?”

Betraying Viscent Empire to our neighboring kingdoms.

She shifts on her stool. “Your father has meetings with men from everywhere. It’s his way of overseeing the affairs of the empire.”

“Like who? Whom does he see?”

“Ursila, it’s not my place to question your father.”

It’s nothing. I’m overreacting. Meeting up with foreigners doesn’t mean Father is betraying Viscent Empire. Of all the charges Ezra came up with, this one is completely groundless. My father is the most important man in Viscent Empire besides the emperor. He has no reason to commit treason.

“Did you recognize the people who visited Father?” I ask despite myself.

“Well, they’re mostly members of the court. And there is that ambassador from Teran Kingdom. That bald man from …” She stops short and tosses a quick glance at me. “Those are not for you to worry about. I’m sure he has legitimate business to discuss with them.”

“What bald man?” My pulse skips a beat. “Is it the ambassador from Wane Kingdom?” The same one who brought the dancers to assassinate Ezra?

“Of course not.” She looks down at her hands.

I stare at her, taking in the way her fingers wring her gown, and my head throbs.

I grab my forehead, willing the pain to go away, but like always, it doesn’t. It’s as if someone is pounding one side of my head with a hammer.

Thump thump. Thump thump.

“Reenan,” I cry when I can’t stand it anymore. I need the medicine. The more I use the pellets, the less effective it is, but I can’t care about that right now.

“Ursila, what’s wrong? Are you having your headaches again?” My mother squeezes my hand. “Reenan, give me the vial. Call the royal healers now!”

A flurry of sounds and activities precedes someone forcing a pellet through my clenched jaw. Then lukewarm tea washes down the pellet. I cough, splattering liquid over my bed sheet and chin.

The concoction works fast and takes the edge away from the headache, but this time, the pain is still so intense. I clutch the sheets until my hands turn stiff, trying to stifle a cry.

My mother is still here. No matter how I feel right now, she should not witness my suffering.

“Ursila. Ursila!” She hugs me, trying not to touch the wound on my back. Something hot drips to my bare shoulder, and I know without looking that it’s her tears.

The gods are fair. They give me luxury and riches but take my health. Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to grow up in a regular family. I might not be able to afford hundreds of dresses, but I could laugh and run and love. If I’m just a normal girl, then I might meet someone who treasures me for who I am instead of who my father is.

I’m a mess of tears and hiccups when Reenan ushers someone into my suite.

“Her Majesty is in pain. Do something about it!” Her loud voice rings throughout the room.

“What kind of pain is she in?” Draven’s calm voice comes to me from the doorway, stopping my hiccups more effectively than any remedy.

“It’s the headaches, of course. And her back. Don’t you know that the assassin cut her back?”

“Yes, but Chief Royal Healer Issac was taking care of it.”

“Well, he’s not here. You are, so deal with it.”

“But I was working on—”

“Who cares what you were working on? There is no one more important than Her Majesty. She’s in pain. You have to relieve her pain.”

Footsteps approach my bed. I’m so glad there is a translucent silk screen in front of the bed, covering me from view. But Draven can just sidestep that screen, and I’m not wearing anything except for a blanket!

My heart jumps to my throat as Reenan says, “Wait, you can’t go in there. Her Majesty is in there.”

“And I’m treating Her Majesty.”

“You still can’t go in there. Do what you need to from here.”

“I have to examine her.”

“There is nothing to examine.”

I can just imagine the way Reenan stands to her full height and tries to stare down the taller Draven.

“Where are you going?” Reenan cries.

“To the Healer’s Wing to ask someone to brew the concoction.”

“No, stay here. Give me the formula and I’ll have someone get it.”

Draven doesn’t need to let out a sigh of exasperation for me to know his frustration. If he were not the same guy who broke my heart, I would tell Reenan to tone down a bit.

But he is.

“I beg your pardon.” Mother dabs the corner of her eyes and approaches them. “My daughter’s maid is just concerned for her. Please excuse her.”

“You are Ursila Ufran’s mother,” Draven says.

I can imagine my mother’s smile as she regards Draven. “I’ve never known Healer’s Wing has such a young and accomplished healer. You’re the same man who received the poisonous reef from that ambassador.”

“Yes.”

“Please help my daughter. She has suffered from the most debilitating headaches since she was a baby.”

“I’ll try my best,” he says.

Liar! He didn’t give Ursila the pellet he had so freely given Sila. He promised Sila he would work on a cure, but he didn’t even bother to ask Ursila any questions about the headaches. The disparity is obvious. I should’ve noticed the resentment from the beginning.

While my maids scramble to brew whatever concoction Draven wrote and my mother tells him everything about my headaches, I lie there, sick to my stomach. Most of what Mother said are the same symptoms I told him. I can’t help but wonder if he discovered my secret. There is no Sila, a common maid. There is just Ursila, empress of Viscent Empire and the girl he hates.

A dull pain radiates from my chest. It must be because I’m afraid of the moment when he realizes who I am. After he does, he won’t be as eager to work on a cure without reserve, and I would have to live with my headaches forever. It’s not because of something foolish like my feelings.

The concoction tastes bitter. Since the worst of my aches is over, I can’t determine if it works better than the pellet.

Mother thanks Draven for his help and sends him on his way. I want to jump up from the bed and demand an answer. Why does he hate me? He’s not the type to play with others’ hearts, so what makes him play with mine?

Mother pats my head, and I hide my face in my arms, afraid I might reveal something I shouldn’t.

“That healer is pretty good,” Mother says. “And he’s so young! Imagine what he could accomplish after a few years of experience.”

I remain quiet.

“I’ll ask the emperor to assign him to you. He could stay close to your tower. That way—”

“No!” I cut her off. My voice is so loud that I startle myself. “He can’t stay around my tower.”

“Dear, I’m sure no one would talk. He’s a healer, and you’re sick.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

I can’t tell her, so I say nothing.

Finally, she sighs. “Get well soon. I look forward to the day you come home to visit.”

I grunt in response. I almost forgot about that. Shortly after marriage, a couple is supposed to return to the bride’s home to visit her family. At this time last life, I had to go home alone because Ezra was too busy to come with me. Although I missed my mother and my suite in House of Ufran, returning home without the bridegroom hadn’t been as joyous as I’d thought.

My mother stays with me until nightfall. After I promise her I’ll come home as soon as I’m able to, she leaves the palace with her maids.

“Reenan,” I cry.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“That healer who came today. Don’t ever ask him to come again,” I say.

She knits her eyebrows. “Why?”

“I don’t like him.”

“That’s not possible. He’s your type.”

My cheeks flush. “He’s not.”

She tilts her head and tells me without words how absurd my claim is. It’s hard to argue with the girl who has been with me for years and knows practically everything about me.

He was my type, until he betrayed me.

Chapter 7

Maybe the stinging stuff the chief healer gave Reenan does have its merits. By the third day, I can move my shoulders without feeling the tear, and by the fifth day, I can get up from my bed.

Ezra didn’t come to visit me again, for which I’m not surprised. His mistresses, though, come often. I wonder if they’re here to see if I’m still alive. My death would mean one of them might become the next empress.

By the seventh day, I don’t feel the wound anymore. There is still an ugly scar on my back that needs time, but I would say I’m fully recovered.

It has been a week already. I should find Draven and ask him for the concoction he promised me. After I get the cure, I won’t have to deal with him again. But his gentle gaze when looking at Sila keeps coming to my mind. Those are eyes girls can drown in. So, for some reason, instead of seeking Draven, I say to Reenan, “Send a message to His Majesty. I want to visit House of Ufran today.”

She knits her eyebrows. “But His Majesty might not have time. This notice is too last-minute.”

Even if he has time, he wouldn’t go with me. And I don’t want him to come. There are some things I want to find out without his presence.

“He’s always busy,” I say. Busy holding court. Busy tending to his fox and his garden. Busy having meals with Quan and Tessa.

Reenan curtsies before she goes to do my bidding. As expected, she comes back with the news that Ezra won’t be able to make it.

“His Majesty said he’ll try to come later,” Reenan says.

Right. At least he bothered with the pleasantries.

Reenan helps me into a turquoise gown and orders my carriage and attendants to be ready. “What would you like to bring to House of Ufran as gifts, Your Majesty?”

My mouth forms an o. I totally forgot about that. Of course I can’t go anywhere without preparing gifts, not even to my original home. And so we spend a good couple of hours in my storage room browsing over an array of valuables until I have gifts for everyone in House of Ufran. By the time we leave the palace, it’s well past noon.

The golden carriage pulled by four black stallions must be a sight with my entourage of maids and guards and a second carriage behind mine holding all the gifts. I try not to stare at the stands of interesting gadgets as people gawk at me.

That’s why I hate going out despite all the things I want to see and buy. For every person in awe over the sparkling carriage and my beautiful dress, there are two who cast looks of distaste my way.

I should’ve gotten used to it. Ursila Ufran is ruthless and haughty. Beneath her pretty face and magnificent gown is an evil girl. Everyone knows that, just like everyone knows the sky is blue and the sun yellow.

There was a time when I wanted to clear my name. I don’t know any of the people on the streets, so I don’t understand how they could judge what I’m like. I asked a storyteller in a tavern to stop spreading rumors about me whipping a maid for breaking a vase. The next day, he told people how I bullied him to quit his job and how he was not going to succumb to my pressure. I helped an elderly woman cross the street only to hear what a hypocrite I was.

No matter. They’re strangers I won’t see again. What they think can’t hurt me. If they believe Ursila Ufran is evil, so be it. As long as I’m still the empress, everyone has to lower his head before me.

House of Ufran is a gigantic series of buildings enclosed in black stone walls. It has been there for hundreds of years, standing tall and proud, protecting the people within. There are four entrances in each direction watched over by many sentries. Reenan tells the footman to drive straight for the east door, the entrance reserved for guests of honor and masters and mistresses of the house.

I’d already sent notification that I’m going to come home today, so I’m not surprised to see my mother waiting near the door with her maids. A smile blossoms across her face when she catches sight of my entourage, and before anyone can tell me how improper it is, I gather my gown, step down my carriage, and run into her arms.

“My child, are you well?” She rubs the back of my head.

Am I well? I will be after I get rid of the guillotine hovering over our heads.

She looks at the carriage for a moment, as though expecting the emperor to step out, before she hides her disappointment and turns to me. “Come in. Francisca is home also.” Mother ushers me into the grand door.

I spot her easily across the courtyard. It’s hard to ignore the enormous train of her pink gown as she makes her way toward me in the arms of her husband.

“Your Majesty.” She beams and curtsies. “You look magnificent!”

“So do you.” I’m not lying. The fluffy pink gown that would look ridiculous on anyone else complements her rosy complexion and raven black hair. Her husband is handsome and attentive. Although he’s just the second son of a minor noble, at least he’s always with Francisca to accompany her to important events.

“Where is His Majesty?” Francisca peers over my shoulder to look for the emperor who is not here.

“He can’t come today.” Somehow, it’s harder to admit that in front of the half-sister who is just a month younger than me and whom I was constantly compared to. Francisca is not a legitimate daughter of my father, but she might as well be. Her mother has a way with men and has always been my father’s favorite, so Francisca was brought up alongside me, having almost as many dresses and jewels as I do. “He’s busy.”

“I’m so sorry.” She brings her hands to her chest.

Of course she is … not.

“I suppose that’s the downside of being the empress. The emperor might be too occupied with all the affairs of the empire, the court, and the mistresses,” she says.

She’s here to gloat. She must be! Ezra doesn’t have time for me, but her husband stays at her side. Ezra has many mistresses, but her husband only has her. We are both newlyweds, but our experiences are so different.

“Yes, you’re right.” I wasn’t going to say anything, but I can’t help myself. “His Majesty does have a lot of responsibilities, unlike …” I look at Francisca’s husband, drawing a blank on his name.

“Seran,” he supplies.

“Seran.” I nod.

Francisca’s finely plucked eyebrows furrow. “We’re only free for this couple of weeks. You see, Seran’s father is about to get promoted. We’ll be busy handling all the house calls later.”

“Then congratulations.” I smile. No matter how many times his father is promoted, no one in this empire can be compared to the emperor. At least in this aspect, I feel like I won.

Francisca purses her lips as she apparently didn’t get the response—jealousy?—she wants. Seran immediately grabs her hand and lowers his head to whisper something only she can hear. It takes only a moment for her lips to curve into a smile, and I can’t help but think that maybe it’s me who has lost.

“Ursila,” my mother calls, glancing at Francisca with an unreadable expression.

I look from my mother to my half-sister. The way Francisca purses her lips is like her mother, who has seized my father’s attention for a good couple of decades. My mother might be the duchess, but her mother is whom Father goes to at night.

For a moment, I can’t decide who is luckier, the woman who has a man’s affection or the woman who holds the title.

“Don’t mind Francisca.” Mother takes my hand. “She’s just lucky she found a husband who loves her. You’ll find one too.”

“I will?” I can’t imagine how wonderful it would be for another person to care for me and love me.

“Of course. After your marriage with the emperor is annulled, I’ll find you that person.” There is a tinge of sadness on her face. Father favors another woman over her. Is that why she insists on finding someone who loves me instead of someone who could just give me a fancy title?

If there is such a person … No. I shake my head. True love doesn’t exist. Only my mother will care for me forever. That’s why I have to do everything to save House of Ufran.

“Where is Father?” I ask. Time to get down to business.

We walk past a courtyard with neatly trimmed bushes and ivory water fountains.

“He hasn’t come back from the court today, my dear.”

My heart picks up speed. Father is not home. This is a perfect time to go into his study. If he stayed in contact with ambassadors from other kingdoms, then surely, there would be evidences.

“I’ll wait for him in my room,” I say.

“Nonsense! Everyone is waiting for you in the main hall.”

“Everyone?”

“Your half-sisters and half-brothers, your father’s mistresses, and some of your aunts and uncles and cousins,” she says.

My head begins to hurt. Although I’ve prepared gifts for them, I did not anticipate seeing them all at once.

Mother takes me to the main hall, which is no less splendid than the emperor’s throne room. Black stone walls and ceiling give the chamber a solemn and regal air while silver pillars add taste to the design.

The tables and chairs on the two sides of the hall are already occupied with tens of faces, some I know well while some not so much. They all stand and either bow or curtsy before me as I walk in.

“Your Majesty,” many voices say in unison.

For a moment, heat warms my eyes and a mixture of feelings clogs my throat. There’s pride. Many of my uncles, cousins, and half-brothers occupy important posts in Viscent Empire, yet they’re here at a last-minute notice, paying respect to me. There’s discomfort. My aunts and uncles are in my father’s generation, most of whom I’d curtsied to every time I’d seen them in the past. For them to pay respect to me, their niece, needs some getting use to. Then there’s awkwardness. After I tell them to rise, I frantically try to think of something smart to say. The seconds that pass in silence drag on like hours. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead as I carry the weight of attention from the people who are not used to having to wait for anyone.

“Your Majesty.” My oldest half-brother, Ian, stands up from his seat. His silver tunic and black robes bring out his ebony hair and eyes. He’s not exceedingly handsome like Ezra, but his confidence and elegance always attract second looks. “I heard you were the victim of an assassination attempt. How are you?”

“I am well,” I say. His words help me out of an uncomfortable silence, like many times in the past. I thank him in my mind as I continue, “I love the necklace you gave me for my wedding. I chanced upon a handsome armor and believe it would look great on you.”

Two of my guards take a red box carrying the silver armor to Ian. He receives the heavy box with ease and curves his lips into a breathtaking smile. “I shall treasure it always, Ursila.”

I freeze for a second at the sound of my name. I’m the empress now, and etiquette requires everyone to address me as such, even siblings. This is true especially when other people are around. Maybe he just forgot. Maybe he was so used to calling me by my name that his tongue slipped.

I turn to the delicate woman sitting beside Ian, hoping that no one notices his small transgression. “Mistress Sandana, I bought a bolt of this season’s best quality silk for you.”

“You are too kind, Your Majesty,” Ian and Francisca’s mother says without a hint of a smile on her beautiful face. Instead, her fine brows are furrowed in displeasure as she looks from Ian to me.

For a second, I consider exchanging more polite words to show her favor, but her frown deters me. She has never genuinely smiled at me, and I’ve never really liked her in return. How could I when she has stolen my father from my mother and carried herself like a second duchess in this house?

I turn my attention to my other siblings, cousins, aunts, and uncles. I’m so glad I had the insight to study a copy of my family tree. Otherwise, I would have upset quite a few relatives by not being able to recall their names. It’s hard, considering my grandfather has five children and my father has seven. And having spent most of my childhood in my room, I didn’t get much of a chance to be with those relatives.

By the time I get to what must have been the fifteenth cousin for the day, my head swims. I rub my temple as inconspicuously as I can while listening to my cousin drone on and on about how I’m destined for great things and how I carry the hope of the entire house.

“Rabi!” Ian stretches up from his chair, cutting the cousin off. “Ursila is tired. I’ll distribute the remaining gifts to everyone. You are dismissed.”

For a second, I turn stiff in my seat. A couple of my uncles have furrowed their brows at Ian’s uncompromising tone and some cousins look downright murderous. Ian is my father’s firstborn child, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s illegitimate. For him to tell the legitimate members of my extended family what to do is like a peasant commanding a noble to clear the road for him.

I hold my breath as I wait for someone to explode. House of Ufran doesn’t lack ruthless people, so I’m surprised when no one challenges Ian.

“Well, then. Until next time.” Rabi bows to me and strolls out of the hall. One by one, everyone says his farewells to me.

The frown on Santana’s face deepens.

I look up at Ian. “I was almost finished speaking to everyone. You didn’t have to do that.”

“How are you feeling?” He walks to my table and leans forward to study my face.

Despite myself, warmth spreads through my body. Ian and I don’t share the same mother, but he’s the best brother I could have. Out of my four half-brothers, he’s the only one who truly cares about me. Precisely because of that, my heart grows heavy. “You just angered—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He stares at me for a moment longer before he turns to my mother. “Your Grace, Ursila needs to rest. She looks pale.”

My mother grunts in reply, clearly not happy about being told how to take care of her daughter by her husband’s illegitimate son. But instead of lashing out at Ian, she says to me, “Let’s go.”

I gather my gown and follow her out of the hall. When we’re a distance away from everyone, she says, “You are pale. Come to my suite. I’ll have a healer look at you.”

“It’s nothing. I want to walk around for a bit. It has been a long time since I was back home.” A long time indeed.

“Nonsense! You were married for just a week.”

I cast my eyes down. If only she knew! “It seems like a lifetime.”

She cups my cheek. “My poor child.”

My eyes moisten just like hers.

“Come to me when you’re ready,” she says. “Reenan, look after Ursila.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Reenan curtsies.

My mother left, but I don’t feel any freer. The train of maids and guards is still behind me, following me everywhere I go.

“Reenan, why don’t you show them my old suite and prepare the bed?” I say.

“But what about you?” she asks.

“What about me?” I want to laugh. “I grew up here. This is my home. Do you think I would get lost in House of Ufran?”

“No, but Her Grace—”

“My mother is just paranoid. You know how she is.”

“Someone else can—”

“Reenan, I need some time alone.” I look her in the eye. “This is my home. Nothing will happen to me here. I just want to walk around by myself.”

She holds my gaze for a long moment before she sighs. “Yes, Your Majesty. I will be in your suite if you need me.”

As she rounds the corner of the garden, I head straight for my father’s study.

He spends most of his time there. If there is one place in this house that would give me clues to his relationship with the Wane ambassador, it’s in his study.

I weave through a maze of a garden to get to the building. Like always, there are two men standing guard outside the door.

My heart jumps to my throat the closer I get to it. Father is not in there. He’s not yet home. He won’t be in his study like the last few times, looking at me with his intense gaze.

“Your Majesty.” The two sentinels bow as soon as they catch sight of me.

I stand to my full height. “My father asked me to retrieve something for him,” I voice the lie I rehearsed in my head.

The two sentinels exchange a look. Then one of them says, “That’s odd. His Grace normally doesn’t allow anyone inside when he’s not here.”

I frown. “What are you saying?” My voice rises. “Would I, the empress of Viscent Empire, lie about such a thing?”

One of the sentinels bows again. “Forgive us, Your Majesty. That is not what we mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” I cross my arms across my chest. “Should I send for my father and take him away from his work to prove myself?”

It’s clear the two poor men don’t know what to say. I choose this moment to brush past them and enter the building, making a mental note to send them gifts of apology later.

The gray walls and high vaulted ceilings coil tension in my body like the few times in the past Father had sent for me. There is something about the quietness of the hallway and the lack of servants that tells me I shouldn’t be here, I’m trespassing, and I will get into trouble the moment Father finds out.

I push away a growing fear and enter the first room on the right, which is my father’s study. The chamber is more than two times higher than my maiden room and three times as large. Covered from floor to ceiling with books, it sports a huge desk at the end of the room. My footsteps echo as I make my way to the desk.

There is a ridiculous number of drawers under the ebony desk and even more on the bookshelf behind the desk. I open one drawer after another and search through the scrolls, letters, and stationery.

I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for. A letter between Father and the Wane ambassador signifying that Father knew of the assassination attempt beforehand, or goddess forbids, assisted in it? Illicit correspondence between Father and other kingdoms?

No. The charges Ezra made against House of Ufran are groundless. My family would never betray Viscent Empire. And I’m here to prove that. If I find nothing in Father’s study, then Ezra beheaded my entire family unjustly.

My hands are on a black envelope from the king of Teran Kingdom when a sound makes me jump. Then the muffled noises of a conversation reach me from a distance.

I slide the drawer closed, wincing at the sound it makes, and my eyes dart across the room for a place to hide. The curtains are too short. They won’t cover my feet if I get behind them. The desk is where my father would most likely head to. I can’t hide behind that. That vase in the corner is too skinny. Anyone would see me from the right angle.

Footsteps are coming ever closer. The knob of the study creaks as it’s turned by someone outside.

I freeze in my spot.

“Ursila has probably already left,” Ian’s voice says outside. “I’m sure she has reasons to misguide the sentinels.”

“Don’t make excuses for her,” Father says.

I stumble backward until my back presses against the bookshelf behind the desk. I should stoop down. I should hide. But no matter what I tell myself, my body turns stiff like a rock and my eyes are glued to the door.

The door cracks open. Just before someone pushes into the room and catches me where I’m not supposed to be, the shelves swing backward and I fall to the floor.

I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the crashing of the bookshelf to resound throughout the chamber, but nothing happens.

When I open my eyes, I’m in an unfinished hallway dimly lit by undersea crystals.

I stand up from the cold stone floor and look around, having no idea how I got here. I was in Father’s study. The shelves behind me gave away to my weight and somehow swung backward like a hidden door. After I fell through, the shelves swung back into place. That means … I’m behind the wall!

“She might still be here. Go find her and bring her to me,” my father says.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Ian says.

They’re looking for me, and I’m too close to them. It’s just a matter of time before they will think about this hidden passage, which Father would surely know about.

I bite my lip and gather my gown. There must be another way out of here. There has to be.

The eerie green light from the undersea crystals increases my pulse. All of my senses are on high alert, and I don’t dare to breathe heavily. The passage leads me down flights of crude steps until I’m sure I must be several stories below ground. The longer I walk, the harder it is to control the tremor in my fingers. When I finally reach an oak door, I stop in front of it, making no move to push it open.

I could just stay here for a couple hours. Surely by that time, Father would’ve left his study for dinner. I don’t need to see what is behind the door. I’ve searched long enough here, and I didn’t find any evidence of Father’s disloyalty to the crown. That means Ezra is a power-hungry monarch who couldn’t tolerate House of Ufran’s influence in the court. He’s my enemy. Everything has been and will be simple, either white or black, friend or foe.

I’m about to take a couple steps back when the oak door creaks open a crack.

My eyes grow wide at what I see. I push open the door all the way and charge inside.

I haven’t imagined it. Below House of Ufran hides a chamber that is almost exactly like the throne room in the palace.

I feel sick to my stomach as my gaze runs over the vaulted ceiling, the multiple pillars, and the white stone walls. Even the placement of the dais and the throne is the same. The only difference is that this room is much smaller than the one in the palace and there is no chair halfway up the dais.

What does that mean? Why would Father want a room like this in House of Ufran? Not any room. The throne room.

Then another line from the five inexcusable crimes comes to my mine. Conspiring to overthrow and replace the rightful emperor.

“Ursila!”

I jump. A scream tears through my throat before a large hand clamps down my mouth from behind.

“Shh. It’s me,” Ian says.

I yank his hand away and swirl around to face him. “What is this?” I gesture at the room. He doesn’t look surprised. He must have seen it before. “Do you know what this looks like?” I feel like someone is strangling my throat.

“What does it look like, Ursila?” He tilts his head.

“It looks like … like House of Ufran wants the throne, the whole Viscent Empire!” The moment I say the words, the horror sinks in, as if my words give it reality.

“But that is exactly what I want.” A third voice echoes in the chamber.

I turn around to watch Father enter through the door.

His handsome face with a permanent half-frown makes my heart skip a beat. He’s only average height in Viscent Empire, but he always seems much taller.

The closer he comes to me, the tenser my body is. “You can’t be serious,” I whisper.

“When have I ever joked with you, Ursila?”

Never.

“B-but replacing the legitimate heir to the throne would throw Viscent Empire into chaos. It’ll give our enemy kingdoms and Nungul Empire a greater chance to defeat us.”

“That’s why I married you to the boy emperor, Ursila,” Father says. “I’ve always told Razi it’s too early for Ezra to die.”

My eyes must have turned round. What does anything have to do with me?

“If you give birth to the next heir, then Ezra can be eliminated.” He stares at me with his black eyes, causing a chill to spread down my spine. “But you disappoint me.” His frown deepens. “Your mother told me your marriage hasn’t been consummated.”

For a moment, heat flushes over my cheeks and neck. “Ezra and I are not a good fit. He doesn’t like me, and neither do I like him.”

“Then make him fall for you. You’re a beautiful girl. Everyone would like you if you try.”

Father doesn’t shout, but his voice sends a jolt through my body.

“But what if I can’t have a child? What if I have a girl instead of a boy?” I ask numbly.

The look Father gives me tells me it doesn’t matter. There are ways to take care of that, even if I have to fake a pregnancy or swap a newborn.

The idea that a girl of my flesh and blood could be taken away from me brings a lump to my throat. “I don’t want to.”

“What did you say?” Father asks.

“I don’t want to!” I practically yell. I don’t want to sleep with someone for the mere purpose of having his child. I don’t want my baby to be involved in treachery and treason. I received a second chance at life. I just want to ensure the people I care about don’t all die like the last life. “Stop this right now. Can you see that you’re putting everyone in House of Ufran in danger? You will fail. Ezra will be the ultimate victor, and he’ll kill off every last one of us. House of Ufran will cease to exist. Everyone will die!”

Father stares at me for a long second. When I think he’s going to slap me for my defiance, he says in a surprisingly calm voice. “Ursila, you don’t have a choice. No one in House of Ufran has a choice anymore. The moment everything starts, no one can stop it.”

“You can.” I take a step toward him. “Destroy this room, wrap the loose ends, and pretend this never happened.”

“Every action, once done, will always leave traces.” He climbs up the steps to the dais. When he’s on the top of the dais, he swirls around and sits down on the throne. “Our ancestor fought alongside the first emperor to create this great Viscent Empire. He put in more work, shed more blood, and lost more men than the first emperor. The successors of the first emperor have sat on the throne for hundreds of years. It’s now our turn to rule.”

My mouth dries. I want to tell him it’s dangerous. This won’t result in anything except the death of everyone in House of Ufran. I know because I’ve personally seen the result. But from the glow in Father’s eyes, I can tell nothing will change his mind. This replication of the throne room couldn’t be built overnight. He has been planning this for a long time. Perhaps, the heads of House of Ufran have never forgotten how close they were to the throne. It takes only one step, and that one step is a dangerous temptation.

“Ursila, you will help me,” Father declares. “You are a daughter of House of Ufran. If we fail, no one gets to live, including your mother, Ian, and yourself. Do you understand?”

I grunt in reply. My head hurts so much that lights burst out at the periphery of my vision. But he is right. He can’t fail, not like my last life. If he does, everything is lost.

I don’t know how I manage to ingest the headache pellet and get out of the underground chamber. Before I have time to think through everything, Ian has already led me outside the building.

This! All of this! Had it happened in my last life too? Had there been a throne room underneath House of Ufran that I never knew about? Is that the true reason Ezra ordered the heads of everyone in House of Ufran? It must be!

My elopement and disgrace. Arrogance and disrespect for the emperor’s regime. Overstepping authorities. Betraying Viscent Empire to our neighboring kingdoms. Conspiring to overthrow and replace the rightful emperor.

I want to laugh and cry at the same time. They’re true. Every last claim!

“Ursila, speak to no one about this.” Ian gives me a sidelong glance.

My head weighs a ton as I nod.

“Don’t worry. His Grace will succeed, and everything will turn out for the better.” He pats my shoulder.

My father didn’t succeed the last time. Chances are, he won’t this time either.

But he has to. Failure means death, the end. Overtaking Ezra’s throne is neither honorable nor right, but it’ll be the only thing that’ll keep us alive.

I bite my lip and narrow my eyes. Between a husband who barely talks to me and my family whom I owe everything, my choice is clear.

House of Ufran can’t fall. That means Ezra has to.

Lead weighs down my heart. Every step takes me away from my conscience, but I can’t turn back. There are some people in House of Ufran who probably deserve Ezra’s sentence, but not my cousin’s baby who barely knows how to walk and not my great aunt who doesn’t remember her own name.

I return to my room on autopilot, barely conscious of the road.

Reenan greets me at the door to my suite. “Your Majesty, where did you go? I was looking all over for you!”

“I was out for a walk,” I say.

“Are you all right, Your Majesty?” she asks. “You look pale.”

“I have to rest.” I push past her and fall onto my fluffy bed, yanking down the canopy so no one can see my face. Only then do I allow myself to let go of the pretense that everything is all right.

We’re doomed. Father and Ian don’t know it, but we’re doomed.

I shake my head. There must be some way. There has to be a way out. Think. If I think hard enough, I can change history.

If you give birth to the next heir, then Ezra can be eliminated.

Then make him fall for you! You’re a beautiful girl.

“Your Majesty, His and Her Grace want me to tell you dinner is ready,” Reenan says from the other side of the canopy.

Yes, that is the only way.

Reenan smooths out the wrinkles and brushes off the dust on my dress before we head out to have dinner in the main dining hall.

My legs still wobble a little as I make my way there, but thankfully, no one will be able to see them beneath my dress.

“Do you want that, Your Majesty?” Reenan asks.

“What?” I jerk my head to face her. She has been saying something for quite some time. Problem is, I didn’t hear a word of it.

She frowns. “I was asking if you want to extend your visit in House of Ufran. You don’t have to go back to the palace right away. His and Her Grace will come up with a reason to annul your marriage.”

How I wish that could be the case.

“No. I’m returning to the palace tomorrow,” I say.

“But why?”

Because I have to stop the tragedy from happening again. “I made up my mind.”

My aunts, uncles, and cousins have returned to their homes, but almost every one of my immediate family is waiting for me at the dining hall. There are my mother and father at one end of the carved ebony table, my half-brothers and half-sisters sitting on either side, and my father’s mistresses close to their respective children, if they have one.

My seat is near the head of the table, next to my mother on one side and Francisca on the other. Ian smiles at me from across the table.

Father picks up his spoon, signaling that we can begin.

Any other day, I would be uncomfortable with the oppressive silence, but today, I’m glad for it. My mind is too occupied. If someone asks me a question right now, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the question or the answer.

At the end, after Father wipes his lips with a cloth napkin, he says to me, “Ursila, come with me to my study.”

My stomach twists. I almost drop the silver spoon in my hand.

“Yes, Father,” I say. And so, ignoring Francisca’s curious look, I follow him out of the dining room into the place he conducts business.

Father takes his seat behind his oversized desk and studies me for a moment. “It has come to my attention that there is a certain aspect of your education that is lacking.”

I tilt my head. “Which part?” He couldn’t be talking about reading and writing. All of my tutors have complimented me on both.

“Your mother is the perfect wife. She learned to manage a household since she was young. She has no doubt taught you what she knows, but she’s not the most desirable woman.”

Heat burns my cheeks. He doesn’t need to continue for me to guess at his next words.

Then he cries, “Eve, you may enter.”

The door to his study opens. I spin back to find a silhouette of a woman at the doorstep. She saunters into the room, and I find that I can’t tear my gaze off her. She’s not the most beautiful woman I know—Serene and many of the emperor’s mistresses and even Francisca are prettier than her—but something about her draws my attention. Maybe it’s the gentle sway of her hips as she walks or the sensual half-smile on her lips or the way that her eyes are open but seem not fully alert, as though she’s still lost in her dreams. Perhaps, it could also be the thin fabric of her dress that adheres to her body like a second skin.

“Your Grace.” Eve curtsies at Father, showing a glimpse of cleavage half-hidden in shadows.

Father nods at her before turning to me. “Ursila, she’s your new maid.”

She’s not going to be just a maid. She’s my father’s eyes and ears. “I don’t need her.”

“Nonsense! She’ll ensure you catch the emperor’s attention.”

“I can do what you need me to do by myself,” I say.

He frowns. “You already had more than a week. You didn’t accomplish anything except for getting yourself injured.”

“That’s because—”

“Ursila!” His voice turns stern.

Sometimes, I hate that about Father. He’s too strong, too forceful, and doesn’t accept no for an answer, like the time I begged him not to marry me to the emperor. Like now.

“Fine then,” I say, wanting to end this as soon as possible. Discomfort already settles in the pit of my stomach. I don’t wish to talk to my father about how my marriage has never been consummated.

“You may go.” He waves his hand to dismiss me.

I spin around to leave, walking as fast as possible without looking like I’m running. Eve dips into a shallow curtsy as I approach. I give her a sidelong glance, and without telling her to get up, I charge past her.

She’s following me. I know even without turning around. It’s not that her footsteps are loud—indeed, it’s the exact opposite—but she has a presence I can’t ignore. The air seems to thin around her, making it harder to breathe.

“I won’t learn your ways,” I say. She might be a desirable woman, but she’s not me. I’m myself, and I won’t change the way I am to please anyone.

“I’m not here to change you, Your Majesty,” she says. “I’m here to ensure that you accomplish a task. I’m not your enemy but your ally.”

Right.

The moment I arrive in my suite, I tell Reenan and everyone to prepare to leave.

“By the way, this is Eve, my new maid.” I gesture to Eve. “She’ll be following us into the palace.”

“His Grace has already notified us, Your Majesty,” Reenan says, looking at Eve from the corner of her eyes as she speaks to me. “She’s to be your head maid instead of me. Everyone should listen to her orders.”

I’m surprised Reenan hasn’t gone ballistic on me. She’s all smiles and welcomes. But her lips are a little tight, and the gleam in her eyes screams displeasure. Maybe I don’t need to be concerned with Eve. Reenan will make sure she’s too busy to spy on me. When Reenan spells out all the duties of the head maid to Eve and all my likes and dislikes in a speed impossible for anyone to follow, much less remember, I grin.

Eve does a slow blink after Reenan is done. “Is that it?”

“No, not nearly. I can tell you the rest tomorrow, but don’t ask me to repeat what I said.” Reenan stands to her full height to try to stare down the taller Eve.

I swear I see the sparks fly before Eve breaks eye contact and says, “That’s not necessary.”

I try not to gawk. She couldn’t possibly remember everything. Yes, she must be pretending.

I return to my carriage with a new maid by my side who draws more attention than me. A vain part of me is displeased, and I wonder if all men would like her. If she’s in my place, she won’t be betrayed by Draven and ignored by Ezra. If it’s her, she would break Draven’s heart and twist Ezra around her fingers. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

The palace guards I count on to forbid her entrance because she was not a part of my original entourage are most agreeable this evening. They didn’t even ask to open the carriage to verify my identity after Eve finished talking to them.

Men! I should never have depended on them.

“Prepare for a bath,” Eve tells Reenan.

Reenan’s cheeks puff up. She’s the one who usually tells other maids to do the heavy-duty work. I could imagine how she feels receiving orders from Eve.

“You heard her.” Reenan snaps at another maid. “Get warm water, rose petals, and soap.”

“Y-yes.” The poor maid scurries off to do what she’s told.

“I didn’t ask for a bath,” I say. Although I want one very much—baths always tend to relax me, and I really need some relaxing today—but that’s not the point. The point is, I need to be the one who places the order.

“Your Majesty.” Eve picks up a lock of my hair from my shoulder. “Your hair lacks luster and your skin is too dry, and”—she closes her eyes and sniffs my neck—“you smell. You need a bath.”

“What?” How dare she! I don’t smell. Even though the underground passages I’d been to today did carry a stuffy scent, I don’t smell. And my hair and skin are perfect. She’s here to thwart me. I’m sure she is!

“Come, Your Majesty. We have a lot of things to do tonight.” Eve steps behind me and works on loosening the laces of my gown.

“What things?” Did I forget something I was supposed to do?

“Meeting with the emperor, of course. You just got back from visiting your home after marriage. You have a lot to tell His Majesty.” She gives a final tug and my gown slides down my body, pooling at my feet. Then layer by layer, she peels off my undergarments.

“I don’t have anything to tell him.” And I doubt he would want to spend time listening to me talk.

She looks me up and down as if taking inventory of my assets and shortcomings. The cold air prickles my skin, and I jump as she runs her hand down the length of my arm.

“What are you doing?” I slap her hand away. The sound is distinct in the quiet room.

“Come.” She takes my hand and walks me to the ivory tub three-quarters full of warm water. Red petals float on top, covering my body as I sink down. “Lay your head on the headrest.”

I sigh in contentment as water embraces me in its warm depth. She applies something to my hair and begins to massage my head and the nape of my neck.

“What is that? It doesn’t look like one of Her Majesty’s soaps,” Reenan asks.

“It isn’t,” Eve says. Her hands don’t leave my head. I won’t admit how wonderful they feel.

“Then why are you using it on her? I told you Her Majesty only uses the kind of soap prescribed by the healers. It’s for preventing her headaches,” Reenan says.

“Are the headaches prevented?”

“What?”

“Is she still getting the headaches?”

“That’s not the point. The point is—”

“The soap concoction didn’t help, so there is no use in continuing to apply them.”

“You’re mistaken. Stop right now, or—”

Eve’s voice hardens. “Reenan! As the head of Her Majesty’s maids, I command you to leave right this second.”

I’m so surprised by the authoritative edge to her normally sensual tone that I forget to say something in Reenan’s defense. Reenan stomps her foot and storms out of the room, leaving Eve and me alone.

It seems that neither of my maids are pushovers. I’m not sure if I’m blessed or cursed.

“I apologize about that, Your Majesty. Now let’s continue.” Eve smears more of the soap into my hair and continues to press and massage my head and neck. The scent is hard to describe. It disappears when I draw in a deep breath and tantalizes my senses when I’m not intentionally sniffing it. It couldn’t smell that much better than my old soap, but its elusive quality makes the seconds that I do smell it seem like pure pleasure.

Her hands sink below the surface of the water, continuing to massage the rest of my body in areas only my most personal maids touch. I would’ve pushed her away if her fingers weren’t working magic, unknotting tension in my shoulders and kneading stiff muscles.

By the time she’s done, my body feels boneless and soft. My skin glistens under the candlelight, lush and radiant like it has never been before.

Eve helps me out of the bathtub and dries me with a towel. I sink into the bed, feeling totally relaxed and a little weak.

“Your Majesty, wait for me here.” She disappears into the adjoining closet.

It has been a long day. I close my eyes and pull my comforter over my head, not bothering to take away the towel that barely covers my torso.

I’m half asleep when Eve yanks my blanket off me.

“Your Majesty, I found the perfect gown for the occasion.” She holds up a midnight blue dress made of sheer chiffon with a cut so low that half of my breasts would be on display. I never knew I owned a dress like that.

I spare her a glance before I close my eyes again. There is no way, no way, I would be caught wearing something like that.

“I ordered dessert to be prepared from the kitchen,” Eve says. “We’re going to go to His Majesty’s suite to offer him the dessert. He must have had dinner some time ago and would be hungry.”

“That’s great. Have someone send it to him then,” I say, folding my hands across my belly as I shift to a comfortable position.

“Have you forgotten what His Grace told you?”

“How could I?”

“Then do as I say. You’ll get what you want. You’ll have the emperor kissing your feet in no time.”

I doubt that. Ezra is not so easy to seduce and manipulate. His mistresses might not be as sensual as Eve, but they’re not without their charms. He’s not taken with any of them. That means no matter how radiant my skin is or how much of my body is on display, he’s not likely to fall for physical beauty. Following whatever Eve told me to do would be a waste of time and effort, in addition to making a fool of myself.

“Your Majesty, are you listening to me?” A tinge of impatience seeps into Eve’s voice. “I have to see the emperor tonight, analyze what type he is, and devise the best course of action.”

No need. My lips curve into a smile. I’ve already come up with the perfect plan.

“That can start tomorrow,” I say to humor her.

I can feel her gaze on me for the longest time before her light footsteps disappear from my room.

After she’s gone, I don’t fall asleep. My mind constantly revolves around my new plan, detailing and perfecting every aspect until I’m sure everything will happen exactly as I wish.

Chapter 8

The next morning, Eve is already in my room, standing in front of twelve maids, each holding onto a tray of various bottles, basins, towels, and garments. I jump when I see them, all of whom are as quiet as mice during my slumber.

“Your Majesty.” They dip into curtsies.

“Where is Reenan?” I ask, not used to starting the morning without her.

“I have no idea.” Eve shrugs. “We have a lot to do today, Your Majesty.” She helps me up from my bed.

I sigh, wishing that Father hadn’t given Eve to me. He should’ve trusted me. I could’ve accomplished what he wants me to do without Eve. Can’t they understand that I don’t need to show my face to the emperor to make an impression? I just need to be there when it counts the most and not waste time doing useless things.

The morning routine Eve has planned for me lasts three hours. After she finishes polishing my teeth, massaging cream onto my face and neck until they glow, and styling my hair into a loose bun that looks lazy and alluring at the same time, my stomach growls in protest. I need to eat. Right now!

“Your Majesty.” Eve snatches away the chrysanthemum cake I have in my hand. “I heard that His Majesty is in his private garden right now. We have to catch him before he leaves.”

I sigh. “At least wait until I’m finished with breakfast.” Although it’s already time for lunch.

She scowls her dissatisfaction, but I don’t budge, taking my time sampling the variety of cakes and scones arranged most appetizingly on the silver plate. After I have my fill, I allow her to usher me to Ezra’s garden.

To my disappointment, he’s still there when we arrive, bending down to snip off a decaying leaf. A relaxed smile spreads over his lips as the late morning sun casts him in an otherworldly glow.

I step on a dry leaf, causing a crinkling noise, and his smile fades.

“I told you not to disturb me here,” Ezra says without turning back.

“How do you know it’s me?” I tilt my head.

He becomes quiet for a moment. When I think he’s not going to answer, he says, “I could sense it’s you.”

Whatever does that mean? Do I have an odor that he could smell? But I smell different now that Eve changed my soap.

“Your Majesty.” Eve chooses this moment to dip into a curtsy. Her neckline is low enough to display a generous cleavage. Too bad Ezra isn’t looking at her. “I am Her Majesty’s new head maid.”

He grunts in response. I would too if I were him. I couldn’t care less if someone else changed his or her head maid.

To my surprise, he asks, “What happened to Reenan?” I’m impressed he even remembers her name.

“She …” I clear my throat. “She was a little stressed by everything that went on.”

Ezra doesn’t respond, even as I hold my breath for him to say something. He couldn’t have seen through my lie. How could he when he’s not even looking at my face? He doesn’t know me that well.

He continues to work on his plants, pretending that Eve and I don’t exist. Only his fox occasionally turns its beady eyes at me.

I’ve had enough of this. Nobody has ignored me like him, as if the blossom in his hand is worthier of his attention than me.

“Since Your Majesty is busy—” I say.

“Your Majesty,” Eve cuts me off. She walks past me until she’s in front of Ezra. Without waiting for him to respond, she crouches down before him and turns her head up to look at him with her dreamy eyes. “Do you need any help?”

I ball my hand into a fist, fighting an urge to drag Eve from the garden. To my relief, Ezra’s gaze doesn’t rest on Eve for a long period of time.

“You’re stepping on my sunflower.” Ezra looks pointedly at the little petals crushed under Eve’s foot.

Eve blinks. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.” She quickly removes her foot. “I—”

“We’ll take our leave now,” I say as Ezra’s brows furrow.

I pull Eve away from the garden. When Ezra is out of sight, she tugs herself back.

“Your Majesty, I wasn’t finished.”

“He’s annoyed.” No good could come out of annoying the emperor. It’s a mistake coming here in the first place.

“I could turn his mood around.” She follows a step behind me.

I don’t know about that.

“But no matter, I’ve already gotten a gist of what kind of a person he is,” she says.

She has?

“His Majesty appreciates beauty, as evident from his love of blossoms, but beauty alone won’t touch him,” she says. “He could be caring to a select few but merciless to others. He gives off a nonchalant air, but he’s actually very observant. When necessary, he could keep a low profile, but he’s capable of giving his enemies a fatal blow before anyone knows what’s going on.”

I stop in the middle of the pebble road and spin around to look at her. I’d never expect such an insight from someone who has just seen Ezra for a short period of time. Perhaps Father does have his reasons in choosing her to accompany me.

“Why do you think that?” I ask.

Eve curves her lips into a half smile. “He cherishes the blossoms while he doesn’t think twice about snipping off dying leaves. He doesn’t seem to pay attention to you, but he could remember your maid’s name. His Grace said that in court, he hardly ever gave his opinion, but in his eyes, I see strength and patience.” She furrows her eyebrows. “If given the opportunity, he would take full control of his power and punish his enemies without mercy.”

How right she is! In my last life, I didn’t even know what was going on before Ezra chopped off the heads of everyone in House of Ufran. House of Ufran might not be innocent from his charges, but not everyone was involved. He did not spare one of them. If I hadn’t died on the street, I’m sure he would send people after me to ensure that no one is left in House of Ufran to plot for revenge.

“Now, can you tell me if you know of a girl His Majesty likes?” she asks.

I hesitate for a moment before I say, “There was a girl His Majesty met when he was living in a village. He said she saved him from bullies and I reminded him of her.”

Eve taps her index finger against her chin. “We can use that to our advantage. What is that girl’s name? Where is she? What does she look like?”

“I don’t know and neither does Ezra.”

“What is the name of that village? What year did he meet the girl?”

I turn and continue down the road with Eve behind me. “If she’s that easy to find, Ezra would’ve found her already.”

“I beg to think otherwise. His Majesty might wish to protect her by not seeking her out until he has full control of the court and palace.”

I shake my head. “No. If I were him, I would send someone to find her in secret. She’s ripe for marriage.”

A stone rests on my chest as I think about Ezra’s reaction if the girl he loves gets married to someone else. I press a hand to my heart, trying to dispel the heaviness. This sensation is totally unreasonable. I don’t even know why I care, and I’m not sure if I root for Ezra to find her or for him to never find her. And what’s so special about a village girl anyway? All the villagers I know have coarse hands and unfashionably suntanned skin. She defended Ezra against bullies, so she must be strong. My mind draws an image of a girl with coarse hands, tanned skin, and bulging biceps.

“Your Majesty?”

“What?” I jump out of my thoughts.

“I was asking what was His Majesty’s reaction after you saved him from the assassin.”

It takes me a moment to understand the question. She must be talking about the ambassador from Wane. “Ezra said I reminded him of the girl but since I’m not her, he left.”

The girl. The girl. How many times do we have to talk about the girl?

We enter my tower. Eve doesn’t say anything until she closes the door to my suite. “I’ll ask His Grace to arrange something,” she says in a low voice. “His and Your Majesty have to go to Goddess Avinia’s temple to ask for her protection of his reign. There are opportunities.”

She doesn’t finish her words, but I get her meaning. Indeed, that was a part of my initial plan. The only exception is that I don’t need to create opportunities. The opportunity is there all along. I just need to seize it and make the best of it.

In my last life, I went with Ezra to the goddess’s temple shortly after he became the emperor. Ezra’s half-brother, Issan, who was banned for treason, made another attempt for the throne.

I don’t know exactly what had happened because I wasn’t near Ezra when Issan and his men charged into the temple, but Ezra was missing for a week. Everyone thought he was dead, and Issan was about to take over the empire when Ezra came back to give Issan a death blow. I heard all of that in the security of my father’s house.

Now, looking back, if I’d been with Ezra for the week he was missing, if I stood by him during danger, everything might be different. Eve is right. In the palace, surrounded by so many servants and guards, there is little opportunity to make an impression. There are many more opportunities outside, during a time of uncertainty and fear.

“What do you have in mind?” I ask.

“On the way to the temple, I can ask His Grace to arrange for bandits to create disorder. I’ll ensure that you and His Majesty have some time alone.”

Bad idea. What kind of bandits would dare to attack the emperor? She said that Ezra is observant. He might see through our little pretend. “No. Don’t do anything without my permission,” I say. “I’ll arrange for something.”

Eve arches an eyebrow.

I know what she’s thinking. How could an inexperienced empress come up with a plan to trick the emperor and his entire entourage?

The best plan is to allow Issan to attempt the assassination. I just have to be there for Ezra this time around.

“Eve.” I look her in the eye and harden my voice. “Don’t do anything. I’ll take care of it.”

“What if you’re not able to succeed?”

“Then I’ll follow your instructions after we come back from the temple,” I reply. “You will not do anything before or during the ceremony in the temple.”

She purses her lips. “If you fail to win the emperor’s heart, you will do everything I tell you to do.”

I hesitate for a moment before I say, “Fine.”

“To be clear, I’d intended to use aphrodisiac if—”

She stops short all of a sudden. I’m about to ask her why when Reenan says behind me, “What aphrodisiac? What are you making the empress do?”

Eve says, “It’s nothing.”

Reenan turns to me, and my mouth dries. I know she’s expecting an answer, but I don’t know what to say.

I drop down to a lounge chair and rub my temple, making a mental note to explain what I can to her after everything is over.

“When are Ezra and I going to the temple?” I ask Eve.

“The day after tomorrow, Your Majesty,” she replies.

The day after tomorrow. So soon! I try to remember if that day was the same day in my last life when Ezra and I went to Goddess Avinia’s temple, but the more I think, the worse my headache is.

I ingest a pellet in the tiny vial I now carry with me everywhere I go. Like always, the pain subsides just enough to make it bearable. I run my finger down the smooth surface of the white porcelain vial, trying to remember when Draven had come up with a cure in my last life. How much longer do I have to endure this pain that gets more intense with each occurrence?

“Eve, can you go find a light dress for me to wear to the temple? I need something I can move in with ease. And shoes. Make sure the shoes are fit for walking. Even an empress needs to walk up the Mountain of Divine Beings on foot.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“There are more clothes in a storage room upstairs. Reenan, can you look through those?”

“Sure.”

The moment the door closes behind them, I grab a cloak and silk scarf and head out of my suite.

Healer’s Wing. Where is Healer’s Wing?

Once I’m some distance away from my tower, I stop a maid carrying a tray of delicacies.

“Where is Healer’s Wing?” I ask her.

She looks at me with a puzzled expression, as though trying to remember who I am. It takes a while for recognition to lighten her eyes.

“Your Majesty!” She drops to her knees and her tray almost flies out of her hands.

“Where is Healer’s Wing?” I repeat.

“It-it’s there.” She points at a tall, rectangular structure surrounded by an overgrowth of plants and herbs.

“Thanks,” I say.

She looks as if a fish has just learned to talk. Perhaps, in most people’s minds, that might be less surprising than Ursila Ufran thanking someone.

I hurry past her to the Healer’s Wing. On the way there, I throw on my turquoise cloak and wrap the scarf around my neck in a way that covers half of my face.

There is no one standing guard at the entrance, but many people are bustling in and out of the double door carrying vials, herbs, or bowls of steaming hot concoctions on a tray.

A middle-aged man with a pointy beard looks at me with suspicion as he steps into the door with a young apprentice behind him.

“I’m looking for Royal Healer Draven,” I explain to him. “Do you know where I can find him?”

“Draven Siren?” He furrows his brows.

“Yes.” As far as I know, there is only one Draven in Healer’s Wing. I lift my scarf a little, hoping this stranger doesn’t recognize me.

“What business do you have with him?” he asks.

“He promised to heal my condition,” I say.

“Which is?”

I stop myself from telling him that my condition doesn’t concern him. “If you can’t tell me where he is, I’ll ask another.”

“You haven’t told me who you are,” he says.

I sigh. “I’m Sila. I work in the empress’s tower.”

“And who gives you permission to go into Healer’s Wing and seek a royal healer?” He frowns. “Draven Siren? That boy never learns! Servants can’t consult with royal healers without their master or mistress’s approval.”

Is that right? I never knew.

“Remove your cloak and scarf. I’m taking you to the chief royal healer,” he says.

I cringe at the mere thought of the reaction I would get when Issac sees my face. Why would he take me to Issac anyway? I narrow my eyes at him, wondering if all of this commotion is just to get Draven in trouble. Draven is incredibly smart and talented. I’m not surprised there would be some fellow healers who don’t like the too young and too handsome man.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” he asks

“Wait! You haven’t heard me clearly. I’m from the empress’s tower. She won’t be pleased about this.”

“Empress Ursila Ufran couldn’t care less about her servants.”

“You don’t know that.” I furrow my brows. “I’m her favorite.”

He obviously doesn’t believe me because he grabs my scarf.

Just when he’s about to yank my scarf away and expose my identity, someone cries, “Stop!”

Draven! I tug my scarf from the bearded man and adjust it before I walk to Draven. “It’s me, Sila,” I say just in case he doesn’t recognize me with my face covered.

“She’s here to see me,” Draven says to the bearded man.

“That’s the problem. Maids don’t have the right to consult with royal healers. I have to report this to the chief royal healer,” Bearded Man says.

“She’s my friend.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll explain this to the chief royal healer.” Then in a much gentler voice, Draven says to me, “Come.”

He takes me into Healer’s Wing, passing many different doors, some with smoke drifting out from the brewing of concoctions. We climb up the wooden stairs to a quieter corner of the building, into a room covered from floor to ceiling with drawers. If I didn’t notice the bed in the corner, I would’ve thought I’d reached an apothecary instead of Draven’s bedroom.

“Sorry. Everything is a mess. I didn’t get a chance to clean it before you come.” Draven moves aside what seem to be bundles of branches and piles of leaves to clear a path.

I walk toward the table, careful not to step on anything along the way, and sit. “Will you be in trouble because of me?”

His lips ease into a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be all right.”

Not that I’m worried.

“I was looking for you the last few days. I asked the servants in the empress’s tower, and no one seems to know—” His words get stuck in his throat as I toss my scarf and cloak on the floor. A blush spreads over his ears and he glances away.

I look down at myself and notice what’s wrong.

I’m wearing a dress that was cut to fit my body. It brings out my curves and displays my slender waist in the most flattering light before it flows down my arms and legs. The neckline is low enough to display cleavage, and the slits in the sleeves expose my bare arms.

A blush creeps over my cheeks. I itch to retrieve the cloak I threw on the floor, but I can’t think of a way to do that without appearing self-conscious.

I clear my throat and pretend nothing has happened. “Did you come up with my cure?” That is what I came here for, not anything else. Draven betrayed me. I have to get the cure from him and make sure he pays for my broken heart. Yet a small part of me is gleeful to see his reaction.

“I have.” He digs through a pile of vials on the table. It takes him a while to fish out a white porcelain bottle sealed with a cork. He unplugs the cork and smells the contents before giving the bottle to me. “If you ingest one of these daily, the frequency of your headaches should reduce dramatically.”

I take the bottle and pour the tiny pellets into my hand. After examining and sniffing the pellets, I pour them back inside the bottle.

“You could do better,” I say. In my last life, this is only the first version of the cure Draven had come up with. “This kind of concoction only reduces the frequency of headaches, not eliminate them completely. It’s missing an ingredient.” I pause for a moment, trying to remember the name of the herb Draven had added to the first version to make the second version. He had told me about it. What is it? I close my eyes and concentrate on teasing out the memory. Thistle fruit. Yes! “Thistle fruit.” I spring open my eyes. “It’s missing thistle fruit.”

His brows furrow together. “I thought about adding it, but it interferes with the activity of another ingredient.”

“The value it offers outweighs the interaction.” I tell Draven the exact words he told me in my last life.

He takes a seat on the table and fingers the various vials piled in the center without actually looking at them. I wait patiently for him to think it through. After what seems like a long time, a smile spreads across his lips.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” He grabs my shoulders. “Sila, you’re a genius!”

No, he is. I just told him the discoveries he would have made himself given enough time.

“I didn’t know you are learned in herbs and concoctions,” he says.

I wasn’t. I only know the little he had told me in my last life.

“Even adding thistle fruit is not the best you can do,” I say. “There’s a permanent cure that doesn’t involve taking pellets for the rest of my life.”

“How is it made? What are the ingredients?” He brings me closer to him until our faces are just a finger width apart.

His eyes gleam in excitement. He looks like someone who has just discovered a gold mine. But all I can think about is our proximity. Heat radiates from him and the herbal scent of his body drifts to my nostrils.

“Sila?” He bends his head to look at me.

My mouth dries. I wet my lips and watch him stare at the spot where my tongue disappears. His breathing becomes uneven. His eyes are now so dark that it’s the color of the sky at midnight.

All of a sudden, I want to know. If I were not Ursila Ufran, would he love me?

“Were you in love with someone in the past?” I ask. His relationship with Serene was a thorn in my heart in my last life.

“No.” His answer comes without hesitation.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I never loved another in my past, but I did have a betrothed.”

“Did?” I cock my head.

“We were engaged. Then things happened. Her family thought I was dead and married her to another,” he says.

“What is her name?”

He grows silent.

“Her name?”

“Serene.”

It is her! So that’s how they knew each other. They were engaged once.

“Do you still love her?” I ask.

“I never loved her.”

“You’re lying.” I saw Serene hugging him before I died. They were talking about their future together.

“She’s more like a friend, a sister. I care about her, but not in that way.”

“You don’t get engaged to a sister.”

“That’s why I was glad the engagement was called off.”

“Why did her family think you were dead?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Why?” I move so close to him that we share the same breath.

“I almost was,” he whispers so softly that I barely hear him.

“What happened?”

“Sila, what was the permanent cure you were talking about?”

“You’re trying to change the subject.”

“If you know the cure, why did you ask me to search for it?”

“Fine! You can keep your secrets.” I push him back and storm out of the room, ignoring his cries.

Not until I’m outside Healer’s Wing did I realize I didn’t grab the pellets he prepared for me. I want to go back and get them—the first version is not ideal, but it’ll do the job for now—but how could I after I made such a dramatic exit?

I pace back and forth in front of Healer’s Wing. I could definitely use the concoction during my trip to the temple. Ezra was missing for a week after the temple. If I’m going to be with him, something to prevent headaches is like water in the middle of a desert.

I’m about to go back inside when I catch a glimpse of the chief royal healer heading toward the door. I turn around and hurry away before he gets a chance to see my face.

On the way back to my tower, servants curtsy or bow as I pass. Even those who hadn’t seen me before know to pay respect to me. Sometimes it’s a wonder how Draven still believes I’m a maid. Although I’m not wearing my most expensive gown and bejeweled tiara, no maid would be wearing a dress like mine. For someone as smart as Draven, his head can be in the clouds over simple stuff.

“Your Majesty, where have you been?” Eve descends the spiral stairway just when I enter my tower.

“I was out for a walk.”

“Without an escort?” She glances behind me.

“I like it that way.”

She frowns. Then she moves closer to me and examines my face.

“Have you chosen my clothes for the temple?” I ask, trying to divert her attention and hoping that she can’t smell Draven’s herbal scent on me.

“Of course. I laid them on your bed.”

I climb up the stairs and enter my bedchamber. When I see the dresses she chose for me, I wish I had come up with something different for her to do while I snuck away.

Those dresses are easy to move in, all right. One is so sheer that it’s almost transparent. Another has a cut along the dress that goes up to my thigh. I stop there, not bothering to look through the rest of the clothes. For goddess’s sake, I’m going to a temple, not to Ezra’s bed.

“Are those clothes not to your liking?” Eve asks.

“I need something less distracting, more sturdy and simple.” I don’t know what happened during the week Ezra was missing, but surely, he couldn’t be strolling around in leisure and sightseeing. I need appropriate garments and shoes, a week’s supply of my headache pellets, and a weapon I can hide on my body. It looks like I have to find all of those myself.

Chapter 9

On the day we’re supposed to go to the temple, Reenan and Eve help me into a black satin dress and style my hair into a loose bun on top of my head. When they’re busy packing the teacups and cushions and other miscellaneous things they think I need, I slip a silver dagger in one pocket and a vial of pellets in the other. Although my maids had supposedly prepared everything the day before, it takes Reenan a good hour to gather all the additional stuff that wasn’t packed.

I want to tell her I really don’t need the pillow and the blanket and everything else. We’re just going to the temple for the day, not moving to the temple forever, but I keep quiet and concentrate on my own preparation.

So by the time we finally take off, three carriages full of stuff follow my own golden one.

Ezra is standing in the middle of the palace entrance, waiting for me. His eyebrows shoot up when he sees all of my things. I have the sudden urge to close the windows and hide my face behind the curtains.

Unlike me, he didn’t bring anything with him. All he has is an entourage of guards and servants to befit an emperor. I spot Gabryl among them right away.

“Let’s go.” Ezra climbs into his white carriage.

A crowd of people has already gathered around the palace this morning, rising on tiptoes to catch a glimpse of their emperor and empress.

I clench and release my hands again and again, trying to remember to breathe every now and then. My body doesn’t relax the entire way to Mountain of Divine Beings. When we’re at the foot of the mountain, Reenan helps me down from the carriage and I walk with Ezra.

He spares me a glance before looking ahead at the winding steps up the mountain. “Is there something wrong?”

“No. Why do you think that?” I ask.

Someone must have cleared the entire mountain of visitors because no one is here besides us. The quietness of the morning and the beauty of nature would be a calming experience if I don’t know that the chaos starts here.

“You seem nervous,” Ezra says.

As if he cares what I feel. “I just haven’t been to the temple for a long time, especially not as an empress wishing for prosperity of the entire empire. What if Goddess Avinia doesn’t grant my wish?”

“That won’t happen. She’s the protector of Viscent Empire.” He looks so sure, as if he’d talked to the goddess himself and secured a promise from her.

We climb the steps one after another. My legs burn and my breaths become labored. The scenery shifts in my vision. I shake my head and will myself to continue. We’re just a tenth of the way up. I can’t ask for the entire procession to stop and wait for me.

Ezra turns to a servant behind him. “Go fetch the empress some water.”

Water sounds good. My throat feels like a sandy desert that hasn’t tasted a drop in decades.

“What happened to your pet?” I gulp down a mouthful of cool spring water in the bota bag his servant hands me.

“I didn’t bring him.”

“Oh.” I take another swallow. “Where did you find him anyway?”

“He was a gift.”

“From whom?”

Ezra doesn’t say anything.

I take a wild guess. “From the girl who saved you?”

He doesn’t reply, and I take it as a yes. All of a sudden, the cool water tastes sour. I toss the bag and charge up the mountain with renewed vigor.

Why does every man around me have another woman already? There is always someone better than me. She might not have my beauty, wealth, and power, but she’s his choice over me. I’d tried and tried to thaw Ezra’s heart in my last life, but it’s made of ice that has been frozen for a thousand years. No amount of heat would melt it. And the most upsetting thing is that I have to try again. This time around, I don’t have the option to fail. It’s not just my happiness on the line, but the entire House of Ufran.

By the time I get up the mountain, I’m panting. But the moment the five-story octagon-shaped building comes into view, I forget to breathe altogether. No matter how many times I’ve been here, I can’t help but stare at the otherworldly temple surrounded by waterfalls that cast it in a fine mist. Now and then, the sound of a gong rings throughout the mountain, signaling the hour.

Priests in white robes are already in front of the temple, waiting for us.

One of them bows at us. “Your Majesties, the high priest is expecting you.”

He couldn’t mean High Priest Rane, the person who was rumored to be able to communicate directly with Goddess Avinia.

I furrow my brows. I don’t remember ever meeting High Priest Rane in my last life.

One of the priests leads us inside the pristine building. I follow him absentmindedly. A growing fear knots the pit of my stomach. What does it mean if something happens this time around that didn’t occur the last time? Things have started to change, and I’m not sure if it’s for better or worse.

The huge statue of Goddness Avinia stands at the end of the high-ceilinged hall, looking regal and beautiful. A large-build priest has his back to us in the center. As we approach, he turns around and nods at Ezra and me. “Your Majesties.”

He smiles, wrinkling his round nose and stirring his white beard. It could be my imagination, but his eyes rest on me for longer than necessary.

Ezra nods at me, and I do the same. “It’s an honor to meet you. We’ve come to seek protection for Viscent Empire.”

“Of course.” He moves aside, exposing the ivory goddess and the cushions at her feet to our view.

Ezra kneels on one of the square cushions and brings his palms together. I make sure to fall to my knees at the same time as him on an adjacent cushion.

“May Viscent Empire continue to prosper and thrive for a thousand years,” Ezra says.

“May Viscent Empire continue to prosper and thrive for a thousand years,” I repeat the same words. And may House of Ufran escape its death penalty, I add in my thoughts. If you can hear me, please grant my wish. I’ll forever be your most devoted servant.

When we’re done, Eve helps me up from the cushion. The next step is the foretelling. Ezra and I sit on a table across from the high priest. Every time I’d been here, I’d always asked one of the priests questions in front of the crystal ball. Most of the times, I got riddles and vague answers that didn’t tell me anything. But this is High Priest Rane across from me. He might look like an old man from next door, but he’s the highest-level priest of Goddess Avinia in this entire empire. If he were the one behind the crystal ball, surely things would be different.

“Your Majesty, place your hands over the crystal ball and concentrate your mind on the question you want an answer to.” The high priest strokes his beard and smiles at Ezra.

The moment Ezra holds his hands over the ball, different colored lights flicker in the crystal. They’re sometimes like waves, lapping over each other, and sometimes like smoke, drifting and dissipating, ever-changing. Then the tempo increases and the lights swirl faster and faster. All the other shades fade away and only golden and black fight for predominance. They twirl around and around like the tornados I read about in books until blackness consumes everything.

I stare at the crystal ball, waiting for the golden light to come back and dispel the blackness. It doesn’t. Even someone like me, who doesn’t know a thing about fortunetelling, realizes this can’t be good.

“What did you ask for?” I whisper to Ezra.

He looks at me for a brief second before turning to the high priest. “The wellbeing of Viscent Empire.”

The smile on the high priest’s lips is gone. He sighs. “Your road is full of obstacles, and your goal is hard to achieve. Killing the enemy you think is responsible for all of your problems will bring about even more unrest.” He pauses for a moment before he says, “Viscent Empire might end in your hands.”

My hand tightens around a fistful of my dress. He must be jesting. Viscent Empire is in prosperity. It shows no signs of decline, and Ezra is not an incapable emperor. At the time of my death in my last life, he’d destroyed most of his enemies.

“What should I do?” Ezra’s voice is calm, as if he’s not affected by the priest’s words, but underneath the table, I could see the tension in his knuckles.

“Goddess Avinia has foreseen Viscent Empire’s crisis and has already taken action to try to prevent it,” the high priest says.

“Try?” Ezra raises an eyebrow.

“The goddess can’t interfere directly with the fate of mortals,” he explains. “She is bound by an agreement with other gods and goddesses. If any one of them interferes, then the agreement is broken and a war among gods might ensue.”

I wait for him to say more, to assure us that Viscent Empire won’t fall, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gestures at the crystal ball. “Your Majesty, it’s your turn.”

I hold tentative hands over the ball. My fingers tremble against my will, as if they’re expecting to be zapped by the lights in the crystal. I try to concentrate on the welfare of the Viscent Empire, but my mind keeps on replaying the moment before my death when I stared at the announcement board that had declared House of Ufran’s crimes and punishments.

As with Ezra, the light in the ball dances and flickers. I hold my breath and gaze at the twisting colors. They’re like smoke, each trying to infiltrate the entire ball. They swirl faster and faster until all light collide and disappear in a bang.

What does that mean?

The high priest strokes his beard. “Your future had been determined, but the goddess gave you an opportunity to change it through an amulet.”

I clutch the amulet around my neck so tightly that my fingers hurt. That’s why I’m still alive. That’s why I went back in time. Everything is real. This is not just a dream. “Why? Of all the people …”

“Because you and a select few are the keys to changing fate. The goddess can’t interfere directly with the affairs of mortals. You have to change it for her.”

“What should I do?” All of a sudden, my shoulders feel heavy with responsibility.

The priest shakes his head. “To tell you would be a direct interference.”

I furrow my brow. “Then what if I make the wrong choice?”

The corner of his lips turns down. He looks as if he has aged ten years in the last second. And then, I know. If I fail, the entire Viscent Empire will fall, not just House of Ufran. The most frustrating thing is, I have no idea what I need to do to succeed.

“Follow your heart.” The priest rises from his chair.

I stare at the spot he was at for a long time after he left. When I finally come out of a trance, I catch Ezra looking at me.

“What did he mean?” he says.

“I don’t know.”

He draws his eyebrows together. I expect him to press for an answer, but he doesn’t say anything.

I’m not sure how much of my conversation with the priest he understands. My own mind is still in shock.

I was sent back in time to prevent the fall of Viscent Empire. The priest said I’m one of the select few, so there are more people like me who were given a second chance at life. The tension in my body grows. If I fail, Viscent Empire will fall. If I fail, all of my family will die.

This is real. I’m really still alive, and so are my mother and Ian and everyone else.

“Viscent Empire won’t fall.” Ezra glances at me. “I won’t allow it.”

I blink. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he’s trying to reassure me, but he’s Ezra, the ice emperor. He doesn’t console people, especially me.

“Your Majesties, we prepared refreshments.” A priest approaches us.

“Rest for a while,” Ezra says to me. “We’re leaving in an hour.”

Eve takes my elbows and turns me to follow the priest. I dig my toes into the floor when I notice Ezra made no move to come with us.

“Wait,” I say. “Where are you going to be?”

“I’m staying here.”

“Then so will I.” The assassins will come at any minute. Although my body screams to get as far away from Ezra as possible, I have to stay with him. Nothing will change if I leave like I did the last time. The high priest told Ezra that killing his worst enemy is not the solution. Ezra’s worst enemy might be House of Ufran. I take that to mean saving Viscent Empire doesn’t conflict with saving House of Ufran.

My heart pounds as I kneel in front of Goddess Avinia and wait for the assassins to come.

“If, I say if, I’m the last emperor of Viscent Empire, what would happen to my people?” Ezra kneels on his cushion and asks without looking at me.

I turn to him, tracing the angles of his face with my eyes. His doubt softens his countenance. “You won’t be. You just said so yourself.”

Then, as if my words give him strength, the doubt in his expression disappears, replaced by his usual indifference.

“You could’ve asked the high priest the whereabouts of the girl,” I say. The moment the words come out, I bite my tongue. I don’t know why I have to bring her up again and again.

“What girl?”

“The one who saved you.”

He glances at me before looking away and doesn’t bother to respond.

Reenan slips away from the hall. Knowing her, she probably went to get a pot of tea or some desserts for me.

“The high priest said killing the enemy you think is responsible for all of your problems isn’t the answer. When the time comes, keep that in mind,” I say. I swear the priest must be talking about House of Ufran. “Some houses have tens and hundreds of people holding important posts in the empire. They also have influence in almost every ministry. If you eradicate all of them at once, the empire would cease to operate efficiently.”

Ezra arches an eyebrow. “Then they could be eliminated one by one.”

“That’s not what I mean. People can change. If you give them an opportunity, yesterday’s enemies might be today’s allies. You—”

“For some people, if you give them a single opportunity, they’ll take away everything you have and sign your death sentence.”

“Ezra—” I’m about to convince him otherwise when something makes me stop. The hall is too quiet. All the priests and servants who had left the hall never came back, including Reenan.

I look around and only see Eve, Gabryl, and a few of Ezra’s guards.

Then, a sudden movement in the corner of my eyes makes me jump. I leap at Ezra, knocking him down to the floor just as a dagger shoots at him. The dagger pierces through my hair, cutting a lock before it jams into the floor.

Gabryl is immediately in front of us, swiping down daggers with the phantom-like movements of his sword. Then, dozens of men dressed in black with black cloths covering the lower half of their faces charge into the hall, heading straight for Ezra.

“Your Majesty, get away through the back door. I’ll detain them,” Gabryl cries.

Ezra pulls me to my feet and drags me into the back of the temple. I try to keep up, but he’s too fast. I almost trip over the edge of my dress several times attempting to match his pace.

“Ezra.” I tug his hand and pull him to the right. “There is a room here that connects to the outside.”

I’ve been in the temple many times during Feast of Gods. I remember this room leads to the forest in the back of the temple, and we can escape there.

We tear through the room as fast as we can with the black-clothed men at our heels. I don’t dare to look back, afraid they’ll pierce a sword through my heart if I do.

“Ursila, run in the opposite direction as me. Get to the capital as soon as you can. They’re after me. They won’t chase you,” Ezra says as we burst out of the door into a peach blossom forest.

My throat feels parched. It’s now becoming hard to breathe, much less talk. “No,” I manage to say. “I want to stay with you.”

He looks at me with a puzzled expression, as though not understanding my decision. He’s about to say something else when the glints of silver daggers fly through the air. Ezra yanks me forward, and a dagger slices my shoulder instead of jamming into my heart.

“Freeze!” one of the assassins cries.

We’re at the edge of a cliff. Ezra pulls me to a hard stop as the pebbles at our feet fall over the cliff and into the misty depth below.

“Who sent you?” Even in a vulnerable situation like this, Ezra’s voice is still strong. “Do you know who we are?”

“Of course, Your Majesties.” The man’s voice comes out of his veil muffled.

“Then you know I can offer you a much better deal if you let us go,” Ezra says.

The man laughs. “Deals involving chopping off my head? No thanks.”

Ezra furrows his eyebrows. “At least let her go. You’re after me.”

I turn to stare at Ezra’s side profile. He’s the emperor husband who had ignored me and made me feel less worthy than an animal or a plant. He left me waiting for him on our wedding night, didn’t come back with me to my house after the wedding, and has never spent a night with me. But at a time like this, he chose to protect me.

I bite my lip, trying to hold my emotions in check.

“We can’t do that, Emperor.” The black-clothed men walk closer to us.

I take a step back and almost slip down the cliff if not for Ezra’s hand on my arm.

“Assassinating the emperor and empress is punishable by death and execution of five generations of your family.” Ezra narrows his eyes.

“That’s only if you’re alive to execute me,” the head of the black-clothed men says. “But you won’t get the opportunity.” He strolls toward us. His sword gleams in his hand.

Fear grips my stomach. Ezra lives through all of this in my last life, but what if my presence changes things? By being here, would I mess up Ezra’s chance at survival? If he dies, my family won’t be beheaded, but the whole Viscent Empire will lose its emperor.

Ezra looks from the man to me. “Ursila, do you trust me?”

I stare at him with unblinking attention. Before today, my answer would be no. Now, I hesitate.

He grabs my hand just when an assassin raises his sword. Before the blade runs a hole through his body, he leaps down the cliff, pulling me with him.

My stomach sinks as we drop down and down. A scream escapes my throat. When I think we’re going to end up as splatters of flesh and blood on the bottom of the cliff, Ezra lands on a platform and dangles me by my arm.

A strong wind blows past. My body sways this way and that. Cold sweat breaks over my forehead as I lift my head to stare at Ezra.

The lower half of his body is lying on a rocky platform protruding from the side of the cliff and the other half is leaning over the edge of the platform, holding tightly onto me.

I want to tell him he should let me go. He would have more of a chance to survive without me. But the words, no matter if I mean them or not, get stuck in my throat. My body trembles from both the temperature and fear. The truth is, I’m not brave. I’m afraid he’ll decide I’m not worth the risk and release his hand.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let go,” he says.

Then little by little, he pulls me up and hauls me to the rock platform. The moment my feet touch the platform, I fall to my knees, my dress drenches in sweat.

It takes me a moment to recover. Then pain explodes everywhere—the place on my shoulder where an assassin’s dagger sliced through, the scrapes and scratches I garnered as I fell down the cliff, and my head.

I fumble in my pocket for the vial I’ve brought. My heart sinks when I fail to find the cool porcelain vial.

I glance back and forth on the platform, searching for the vial. All I see are weeds, rocks, and a shallow cave. I’m about to ask Ezra if he saw my vial when I notice the blood on the ground he’s sitting on.

“You’re bleeding,” I say.

He grunts and tears off the edge of his sleeve. Then he pulls his right sleeve up to reveal an ugly wound on his arm. My stomach churns when I see the bloody mess.

He tries to wrap the strip of cloth around his arm.

Swallowing my nausea, I take the strip from him and wrap it around his injured arm. The end product is unlike the perfect bundle a healer had wrapped around Ian’s foot when he broke his foot, but Ezra doesn’t comment on my lack of skill.

“It should be warmer inside the cave,” I say to him.

He follows me into the cave only large enough to fit the two of us.

Water drips down from the ceiling onto the ground. I do a quick glance. We have water but no food, and we’re trapped on this little platform some distance away from the top of the cliff with no way of getting up or down. If someone doesn’t find us or if we can’t figure a way out, then we’ll both starve to death.

I turn to Ezra, desperately wanting to talk to him. Somehow, hearing his voice calms me down. When he told me not to worry, the tension in my body relaxed a little.

“Ezra?” I say.

My voice echoes in the cave. I wait for him to respond, but he never does.

“Ezra?” I crawl to him.

He’s sitting with his back against the rough surface of the wall. His eyes are closed and his cheeks look unnaturally red.

I touch his forehead with the back of my fingers and immediately withdraw my hand. Even without comparing the temperature by testing my own forehead, I know he has a fever.

I tug at the fabric of my dress. My nails break before I manage to tear off a piece. Fighting off my headache and pain, I wet the cloth in the small pool of cave water and wring it before spreading it out on Ezra’s forehead.

He stirs the moment the cold cloth touches him. His emerald eyes blink open. He looks at me without focus. Then his lids cover his beautiful eyes again.

I walk through the cave and the platform multiple times, examining every inch for secret passages or decent footholds, anything that could help Ezra and me escape. But there is nothing.

Chapter 10

I’m lying on an ice bed. The only warmth is the fire beside me. I shift closer to the fire and wrap my arms around it.

Weird. I can hold onto the fire, and it doesn’t burn.

I rub my body against the warmth, using friction to create more heat.

As I touch the smooth surface of someone’s skin, I freeze.

This is not fire.

My eyes spring open. Then my face burns.

I’m pressing against Ezra’s back, and my arms cling onto him from behind. One of my hands slipped into his collar and is now warming itself on his chest, under his clothes.

I withdraw my hand with the care of a thief who is trespassing on another’s property. Carefully, I detach my body from his, trying to ignore how wonderful it feels to touch him.

He yawns, and I jump to my feet, standing awkwardly in the middle of the cave.

When he rolls to look at me, I hide my guilty hands behind my back.

“You’re awake.” I bite my tongue the moment I utter the words. Of course, he’s now awake. “How was your rest?”

Please don’t mention anything about how hungrily my body pressed against his just a moment ago. Even now, with his tousled hair and dazed eyes, he looks appetizing enough to eat. I swallow hard.

“Ursila.”

“What?” I raise my voice, trying not to show the effects he’s having on me.

“Move back one step.”

I do as he said. He crouches in front of me and pulls a weed from the cracks in the ground.

“What is that for?” I peer down at the green leaves in his hand.

He glances at me without replying. After he washes the leaves in the pool of cave water, he stuffs them into his mouth, chews them, and splits out the green mess, which he applies on his wounded arm.

“Pippa plant,” I say, recognizing the weed as the herb Draven used on me when I scraped myself against a tree.

“Yes.” He sounds surprised, as if not expecting someone like me to be able to distinguish between roses and peonies, much less pippa plant and other weeds.

I tear off a strip of my dress and wind it around his arm, trying not to grow stiff under his attention. “I checked. There is no way out,” I say. “The cave doesn’t lead to anywhere.”

He looks outside the cave. “We have to climb up.”

I blink, not sure if I misheard him. “But the top is so far away.”

“There is no other choice.”

“It’s too dangerous. We could wait for someone to come for us.”

“We’ll die of hunger before that happens.” He walks outside, lifting his head to study the misty mountain.

In my last life, he came back to the capital in a week’s time. Surely, someone must’ve saved him. He couldn’t have climbed up all by himself, could he? I look at him and am not so sure anymore.

“Your arm is wounded,” I say. At this time in my last life, was his arm also injured? If not, then there is no guarantee he will make it.

He sighs. “You shouldn’t have stayed with me. If you went into the temple to rest, you could’ve avoided this. The assassins were after me. They wouldn’t spend too much energy hunting you down.”

“I would stay with you even if I have to choose all over again.” I look at him in the eye, and I know I mean every word I said, not because he’s the emperor I have to influence but because he’s the man who didn’t let go of me when I was hanging over the cliff. I can’t forget the tinge of vulnerability in his voice when he asked me what would happen if Viscent Empire ends in his hands. He needs me, no matter if he admits it or not.

He looks at me as though seeing me for the first time. His eyes are lost in mine. Then he quickly glances away, but from the slight tremor in his fingers, I know he’s not completely unaffected.

“I’ll climb up tomorrow morning. Wait for me here. I’ll come back for you,” he says without turning his head.

I nod. My stomach twists from fear that he will fall from the mountain, and this time, he wouldn’t be so lucky to spot a platform to break his fall.

Weird. I clutch the amulet near my heart. Never once did I doubt he would come back to rescue me.

He washes more of the pippa leaves in cave water. “Ursila, let me see your shoulder.”

He brushes aside my hair to reveal the cut on my shoulder.

He’s so close. I can feel his heat and smell his scent. My pulse speeds, and I forget how to breathe. For a moment, I worry he’s going to hear the thumping of my heart that sounds too loud in the quiet cave.

He smooths his hand over my shoulder, pulling down my sleeve. The coolness of the wet cloth as he washes my wound fails to reduce my body temperature. I hiss at the pain.

“Shh. It doesn’t hurt.” He holds my arm still.

Yes, it does.

But he’s so gentle and his eyes so soft that I don’t call him out on his lie. The only time I saw this expression on him was when he was cooing his fox.

He chews on some pippa leaves and applies them to my shoulder. I should’ve feel dirtied by the plant and his saliva, but the warmth of the mixture seeps through me, making me hot all over.

I look up at him, out of breath and panting like I’d just run a mile. His eyes are now a dark shade of forest green that drowns me in their midst. Inside, I see an image of me with my lips apart. One of my sleeves is pulled down, baring my shoulder and half of my breasts.

He’s so close. His breaths come out uneven and his Adam’s apple rolls in his throat. If I lean forward just a bit, my lips would touch his. I wonder if he’s cold or hot, like the ice emperor he is or similar to the heat I felt under his shirt earlier.

Neither.

He’s warm and soft, like the grass jelly the cook served at dinner the day before. It’s amazing how the lips I thought would be so hard and uncompromising would turn out to be opposite.

I close my eyes and savor the texture. My tongue slips into his mouth and encloses itself in his hot depth.

“Ursila.” His mouth moves as he cries my name. His face twists in both pain and pleasure. “I have to rest for tomorrow,” he says, but his arm presses me closer.

“Yes.” My tongue continues to dance with his, sucking him and making a guttural sound that sets my cheeks ablaze.

Closer. I want to be closer to him. No matter how I grind my body against his, it never seems enough.

I withdraw my tongue, and a thread of saliva thins between us. I’ve always known he’s beautiful, but right now, he’s downright gorgeous. The ice emperor is gone, replaced by a man I want to swallow whole.

“Ezra, I love you.” My words stun both of us. I don’t know where that comes from. I don’t even know if it’s true. His eyes soften even more as he kisses me, sucking in my breath. For a moment, I want to explain that I misspoke, but he doesn’t give me the opportunity.

His tongue slips out of my mouth and down my chin. As he kisses my neck, my mind blanks out. With a strength I don’t know I possess, I push him to the ground.

“Ursila,” he whispers my name, caressing my cheeks with his hand. “You’re so brave and beautiful.”

“More beautiful than Tessa?” I can’t resist asking.

“Of course.”

“And her?”

“Who?”

“The girl.” There I go again. I should stop mentioning her. It’s not like Ezra could find her after all those years.

He becomes silent for a moment. “You’re more beautiful than her.”

I feel like someone is twisting and wringing my heart. The hesitation tells me more than I care to know. I’m more beautiful than her, but he can’t forget her. No matter who he marries and who he’s with, she will always occupy a corner of his heart.

Heat warms my eyes. My head throbs in pain. I take a deep breath.

“Ursila?” He knits his eyebrows together. “What’s wrong?”

The pain intensifies. He looks so handsome lying on the ground. I shouldn’t care who he has in his heart. It shouldn’t matter to me whether he loves me or someone else. I just need to seduce him, bend him to my will, and influence his decision. It’s a matter of flesh and pleasure, not of love. I’d loved once and learned my lesson. I can’t make the same mistake again, especially over the man who is responsible for my family’s death. But no matter what I tell myself, the pain won’t go away.

“Ursila, are you all right?” He pushes himself from the ground and grabs my shoulders.

He looks as if he really cares.

“Ursila!” He draws me into his arms. “What’s wrong? We’ll both get out of here. I promise.”

I shake my head. “It hurts.”

“Where?”

My heart. “My head.”

He rubs my head as if the gesture will relieve some of the pain.

“It’s an old condition. It’ll go away in a while,” I say into his chest.

“Did you bring any concoctions to treat it?”

“Yes, but the vial is gone.”

“What does the vial look like?”

The headache now comes in full force. His tunic blurs in my vision. I really don’t feel like talking—it only intensifies the dizziness—but I manage to say, “It’s a white porcelain vial.”

“Like the one over there?” He points at something outside the cave.

With great difficulty, I squint in the direction he’s pointing. There, half hidden in a crack on a boulder, is the vial I lost.

He sets me down on the ground and retrieves the vial. I swallow one as soon as he offers it to me. Closing my eyes, I wait for the pellet to take effect. After a long moment, when the headache ebbs a little, I open my eyes to find him staring at a pellet in his hand.

He studies it with such concentration that I refrain from interrupting.

“How long have you been taking this?” he asks.

“Since I was a little girl,” I say. “What’s wrong?”

His brings the pellet to his nose and then to his mouth to lick it. His hand trembles slightly. “How long?”

I knit my eyebrows as I try to remember. “Since I was about ten years old.”

“Have you ever been to Half Moon Village?” He raises his head to look at me.

The name sounds familiar. “Is that the village where a great healer family lives?”

“The Desiren healers?”

I nod. “Then yes, I was there for a week. My father was seeking the Desiren healers to cure my headaches. They gave my father the formula for this pellet.” Father had such high hopes that they would cure me. He was so disappointed when they couldn’t do anything except alleviate my pain.

That’s also the same place where that white puppy I saved bit me. My leg throbs from the memory. Ever since, I’ve been afraid to get close to fluffy animals.

I had to give the puppy away to a boy.

A chuckle escapes Ezra’s throat. Then, it becomes a full-blown laughter. He caresses my face and draws me into his chest. “Ursila … Ursila.”

“What?”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he rains kisses on my cheeks, chin, and neck.

I crank my head to give him better access, and his fingertips dig into my flesh, pressing me into his body so tightly, as if he’s afraid I would disappear like a wisp of smoke.

He whispers something into my collarbone. The words are muffled and I can’t make them out. But even if they’re not, I couldn’t concentrate on anything anyway. A fire burns within me. I slither along his body, can’t get enough of his heat and his skin.

“Ezra,” I cry, a little out of breath.

“Darian,” he says.

“Ezra.” I bite his earlobe, grabbing his hand and placing it on my chest.

He whispers something in my ear, and this time, I hear him.

“Ursila, I love you,” he says.

My body freezes. Unlike my earlier declaration, his voice sounds so sincere, as if he means every word.

“You love Tessa.” I purse my lips.

“She’s like a sister to me.”

“But you took her as your mistresses, along with many others, the same day we got married.”

“That’s because Tessa wants to escape a horrible marriage, and she also needs a reason to stay in the palace with her aunt. And the others … My father gave me two years to find the girl I would marry. If I found her, he would welcome her, no matter who she was. If I didn’t find her, he would choose a bride and mistresses for me. They’re all tokens of alliance.”

“I was also a token of alliance.”

“You’re different.” He strokes my cheek, and his forehead touches mine. “I’ve searched for you for so long that it has become an obsession. When I saw you, I didn’t recognize you, but you gave me a familiar feeling. I should’ve realized earlier.”

“I don’t understand.”

He opens his mouth to say something but closes it at the end. After a while, he says, “You won’t have to worry about the mistresses. I’ve never wanted them and have never touched them.”

A part of me wants to grin at his words. Then I think of something and furrow my eyebrows. “You shouldn’t take them as mistresses in the first place.” By accepting them, he ruined every one of them. They could’ve gotten married to attentive husbands and led happy lives, but because they’re now the emperor’s mistresses, none of those could happen.

“I didn’t have a choice. I’m sorry.”

I blink, not believing my ears. Did the ice emperor just apologize?

“You’re tired. Get some sleep. Everything will be better tomorrow.” He draws my head against his chest and lies on the ground.

My lids grow heavy while I listen to his heartbeat. I didn’t think I could sleep with the coldness and lack of bed and everything, but I was wrong. His body warms mine and his chest becomes my pillow.

* * *

I wake up feeling fully rested, which is weird considering this is the worst room I’ve ever slept in, if I can call the cave a room.

I’m still lying on top of Ezra with his arm wrapped around my back and one hand protecting my head. My pulse speeds of its own accord. I don’t dare to raise my head to look at his face, lest the movement wake him.

His chest moves up and down with his breath, and I become painfully aware of the way our bodies press together. The fire from yesterday rekindles, burning my cheeks and skin. If this is the effect he has on me, then I don’t need an aphrodisiac. When I decide to risk a kiss, my stomach grumbles.

Ezra stirs. I squeeze my eyes shut just as he opens his. For a long while, silence stretches in the cave. I can’t see him, but I can feel his gaze.

Then my stomach growls again. This time, he would have to be deaf not to hear it.

“Are you hungry, Ursila?” He sounds a little husky in the early morning.

Hungry? I’m starving! The last meal I ate was yesterday morning before I went with Ezra to the goddess’s temple.

But I don’t utter a word. I’m supposed to be asleep. It’s just easier that way. And perhaps a few hours later, Ezra can forget about my disgraceful behavior yesterday. The more I remember what happened yesterday, the hotter my cheeks become.

It wasn’t me who slipped her tongue inside Ezra’s mouth, kissing and sucking him. It wasn’t me who slithered her body all over him. And it definitely wasn’t me who pushed him to the ground and sat on top of him.

My stomach continues to make noises. I wish I could disappear through a hole in the ground.

“Ursila.” Ezra nudges me.

I don’t respond. When he nudges me again, I pretend to just wake up.

“Ezra?” I say, climbing off him.

“Wait for me here,” he says. “I’ll come back with food.”

Before I realize what’s going on, he’s already outside the cave, looking up at the steep mountain. I shudder as I follow his gaze up. There are only a few footholds. The mountain is almost vertical. It’ll be impossible to climb up here.

“We can wait for another day,” I say. “Someone might come to rescue us.”

“They won’t know we’re here,” he replies. “Don’t worry. I have experience climbing mountains. I grew up surrounded by them.”

“What if you fall?”

“I won’t.” He rolls up his sleeves and starts climbing from the side of the cave.

I hold my breath as I watch him climbing onto one protruding rock after another. Sweat breaks out on his forehead and dries immediately.

Goddess Avinia, please help him. He can’t die. He must not die.

When he’s several meters above the cave, the stone he’s using as a foothold dislodges from the wall, and he slips.

“Ezra!” My heart jumps to my throat as his body dangles from a rock. His legs swing for a moment before he finds purchase.

I forget to breathe. He makes his way farther and farther up until mist covers him from my view. I stare at the spot he’d disappeared for a long time.

The cave seems extra chilly and empty without him. I sit next to the small pool.

What have I been doing the past day? Even now, why am I so worried for him? He’s the emperor who beheaded my entire family. I only hate him. I couldn’t love him. Besides, true love doesn’t exist. Draven taught me that. Remember?

I splash my face with icy water again and again until my feverish heart turns cold.

Chapter 11

Hours later, a thick rope dangles down outside the cave.

Ezra must’ve miscalculated the distance from the cliff to the cave because the end of the rope falls way below the cave. I pull it up and tie it around my waist. After I make sure the knot is secure, I give the rope a hard yank.

Someone up there begins to pull. I bite my lip and cling onto the rope as my body swings this way and that.

When I’m near the top, I can make out a couple figures. Ezra is at the edge of the cliff, holding out his hand, ready to catch me. Gabryl stands next to him, pulling the rope with his uncanny strength.

As I climb onto the cliff, Ezra hauls me up.

“Are you all right?” Ezra asks.

I nod.

He unwraps a thick slice of bread and hands it to me. “Eat this for now. We have to leave before the assassins discover us.”

“They’re still looking for us?” I knit my eyebrows.

“Yes.”

“Prince Issan won’t stop until he sees a dead body,” Gabryl says, “even though he already proclaimed His Majesty dead.”

I wouldn’t understand what he’s talking about if I didn’t know about this in my past life.

“Issan, the exiled prince?” I ask.

“Yes,” Ezra says. He takes my hand and drags me away from the cliff. “Gabryl, let’s go.”

I hurry to keep up with him, taking a bite or two of the bread along the way. “Where are we going?” I ask.

“Issan has received military support from Yonte Kingdom, and our people hesitate to kill him.” Ezra helps me cross a particularly steep road.

If the court thinks Ezra is dead, then the only other person with royal blood is Issan. No matter if nobles like him and no matter if he was exiled, he’s the only other candidate for the throne. Besides, Ezra isn’t popular among some of the nobles himself. He’s the prince who had been raised by a commoner in a small village. In court, he doesn’t contribute much, letting my father run the show. I’m not surprised if some nobles prefer Issan over Ezra.

“What do we have to do now, Your Majesty?” Gabryl stumbles over a vine on the ground.

“We go to our supporters,” Ezra says without turning back.

For a moment, I think about the possibility that House of Ufran would support Ezra, defeating his enemies at his time of need. “We can go to House of Ufran.” I tug at Ezra’s sleeve.

He stops in the middle of the path. His eyes have a distant look, as if he’s thinking through something. When he focuses on me, he says, “You can go to House of Ufran.”

“What?”

“Stay there until I pick you up.”

“You don’t want me to come with you.” I tilt my head back to look at him.

“House of Ufran is now the safest place. Even Issan would have to think twice about challenge the most powerful house in Viscent Empire.”

“But I want to be with you.”

His face softens as he looks down at me. “Give me a week. In a week, I’ll come for you, and we’ll never be parted. I promise.”

I press my lips together. “No.”

“Ursila.”

“I want to be with you,” I repeat.

“It’s too dangerous—”

“If you can handle it, then so can I.”

He stares at me for a long moment before a smile spreads on his lips. He offers me his hand. “Then we shall be together, in life and death.”

I place my hand in his, feeling his warmth.

He cups my face and touches his forehead to mine. “My empress,” he whispers in my ear.

My ears burn. I’m not sure whether it’s from his breath or something else. In the corner of my eye, Gabryl shifts his feet, looking awkwardly at the sky, the ground, the mountains, everything except us. Then suddenly, his head jerks.

“Your Majesties, a group of riders is approaching us.”

“Who are they?” Ezra turns to Gabryl.

“I can’t tell.”

Ezra glances at our surroundings. “Hide behind that boulder and protect the empress. I’ll divert their attention.”

Gabryl’s mouth widens. “But Your Majesty, they might be after you.”

“That’s why I’m the best diversion.”

I look up at Ezra. I’ve forgotten the last time another man risked his life for me. Maybe no one ever had. If they did, it’s because I’m Ursila Ufran, a daughter of House of Ufran, not because I’m Ursila.

“But—”

“Gabryl,” I cut him off. “Do you have the confidence to outrun a troop?”

“Yes.”

“Then lead them elsewhere.” I point in the direction from where I can hear the sound of hooves. He has the strength to overturn a stallion. He’ll escape. I’m sure of it.

Before the horses round the corner, I pull Ezra behind a huge boulder, where we both hide until we can no longer hear Gabryl’s footsteps and the prancing of hooves.

“Come.” Ezra helps me out. Together, we walk down the mountain, taking the least-traveled path.

“Where are we going?” I ask, slightly out of breath.

“To the capital.”

Of course we’re going to the capital. I was looking for somewhere more specific, like the house of a noble he’s sure will support him. But he doesn’t say anything else, so I don’t press for an answer.

When we get to the bottom of the mountain, I feel like I’ve run all the way to the Nungul border and back. My legs are beyond exhausted, my dress is drenched in sweat, and my throat is parched.

“We can rest for a while.” Ezra leads me to a stream.

I sit on a boulder, trying to catch my breath. When he comes back with some water on a large leaf, I pour the water into my mouth, not caring if I wet my face and clothes.

Much better. But I need more.

Ezra comes back with another leaf full of water, then another and another, until I’m no longer thirsty.

When he brushes away the wet hair from my face, I tilt my head. “Why are you so nice to me?”

He smiles. “Because I love you.”

I look down at my hands. Another man had told me the same thing. But in just a short year, he taught me a lesson I’d never forget. True love doesn’t exist. Forever only happens in dreams.

“Would you do anything for me?” I ask.

“Of course.”

I want you to spare my family. But instead, I say, “I don’t want you to have anyone else except me.”

There. That should be an impossible task. He’d already taken in numerous mistresses, most of whom are from influential families. This will teach him to mind his mouth. I hate pretty words and promises, especially ones he can’t keep.

He smiles at me.

Disappointment settles in the pit of my stomach. Although I know he can’t carry out my wish, I expected excuses. He doesn’t even bother to come up with one.

We walk in silence to the main road. He offers me a hand, but I pretend I don’t see it.

My body stiffens every time I hear travelers coming and going on the road, afraid that the assassins have come back to finish the job. If I knew of another way to the capital, I wouldn’t have chosen this one.

Then in the distance, the sound of prancing horses comes ever closer. This time, there are many more horses than a company of random family on their way to pay respect to the goddess. In the midst of the noise, a bell rings.

Hooves hit the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust. I try to yank Ezra out of the way, into the safety of a shadow, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he narrows his eyes and stares at the road.

The first person emerging from the dust is a young man with silver blond hair riding a black stallion with a bell on its neck. His right hand holds the reins and his body is leaning slightly forward. He looks familiar—I’m sure I’ve seen him before—but I can’t recall his name. Behind him are soldiers in chain mail, all of whom ride like they’re chasing a serial murderer just in front of them.

The young man must have seen us, but he didn’t reduce speed. He charges at us with his monster of a stallion.

Thump thump. Thump thump.

I can’t tell if the sound is from the hooves hitting the ground or the beating of my heart. I tug at Ezra, but he doesn’t move an inch. He stands in the middle of the road without batting an eye.

Now is not the time to play cool.

The black stallion raises its front legs. Its neigh reverberates in my ears. I turn to face it, but I only see that day, in front of the announcement board, when a similar horse raised its legs. The sharp pain all over my body, the sound of my bones cracking, and the smell of my blood fill my senses.

I scream, squeezing my eyes shut.

That doesn’t help. I can still see the board announcing my family’s death and the whites of the horse’s eyes the moment it crushed me.

“Ursila. Ursila!” Someone grabs my shoulders and shakes me so vigorously that I spring open my eyes.

Worry replaces Ezra’s usual calm expression. Standing next to him are the blond young man and his stallion.

“Are you all right?” Ezra cups my head. “You scared me.”

The blond man drops to one knee. “Your Majesties. Forgive me for not slowing down sooner.”

I turn. The announcement board is nowhere to be seen. The horse pulling the carriage is also gone. We’re in the middle of the road back to the capital, not the small city Draven and I were at. Even so, I can’t stop the tremor of my fingers.

Ezra takes my hand and gives it a firm squeeze. Then he says to the blond man, “Wayne, the empress is tired. Prepare a horse for us. Everything can wait until tomorrow.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” the blond man replies.

Then I remember who he is. Wayne, the chief general’s youngest son and a general feared by our enemies.

When a soldier leads a horse to us, Ezra clasps my waist and lifts me up. I grab his hands and refuse to let go. “I don’t know how to ride a horse,” I say.

“I’ll be behind you,” Ezra says.

I hesitate for a long moment before releasing my hold on his hand and swinging my legs over a member of the species that killed me.

The horse shifts its feet, and my body becomes as stiff as a rock.

“It’s all right. There is nothing to be afraid of.” Ezra looks up at me. His expression is so soft that I almost don’t recognize him as the same person who told me I stepped on his precious flower. As he takes his seat behind me, I catch Wayne staring at Ezra with widened eyes.

Ezra kicks the horse’s flank, and Wayne signals to the soldiers. The soldiers surround us on all sides as we proceed down the road.

Little by little, my tense muscles relax. My family is not dead. The horse is not going to crush me. And Ezra is behind me, supporting my weight and ensuring I don’t get thrown off my seat.

When we’re halfway to the capital, a man heading toward us turns his horse in a different direction.

Wayne pulls an arrow from a sack hanging down his saddle and nocks it to the bow he retrieved from his back. The next moment, the arrow shoots toward the man and nails his leg to the ground.

One of the soldiers goes to catch the man. Ezra doesn’t wait for him to report back. He continues to ride the horse as if nothing has happened. Likewise, Wayne doesn’t explain why he launched his arrow, letting his soldiers take care of the man.

I glance at the man as we pass.

“How does Wayne know he’s Issan’s minion?” I ask Ezra.

“He wears Issan’s insignia,” Ezra says.

“What if Wayne was mistaken?”

A long moment of silence precedes his answer. “We can’t afford to hesitate.”

He means he can’t afford to spare one innocent among a group of suspects. He would rather kill all the suspects than allow a single criminal to live.

How very like him. My hand balls into a fist as I think of the infants and the elders of House of Ufran. He didn’t change. A year later, he would do the same.

“Don’t worry. I won’t give him the opportunity to hurt you,” he whispers in my ear.

I look down at my hands and don’t reply.

When we’re near the gate, a soldier drives back with a plain carriage.

“Your Majesties, please make use of the carriage,” Wayne says.

Ezra helps me down. We enter the carriage with the peeled red paint and coarse curtains.

The cushion isn’t much more comfortable than my seat on top of the horse, but I understand the need for the carriage. Issan probably has people guarding the gate to the capital. If we ride into the capital on horseback, they’ll definitely notice. Inside a carriage, no one can see our faces.

I lift the curtain just a little when the sounds of the city come closer. The line at the gate is unusually long. It seems the gatekeepers are examining people from head to toe before letting a single person enter or leave.

Wayne bypasses the line and goes straight to the entrance.

He doesn’t stop at the gate like everyone else. As our procession passes the gate, I can tell a gatekeeper wants to ask questions about the people inside the carriage. A particularly large-built soldier glares at the gatekeeper with his bell-like eyes, and the gatekeeper keeps his mouth shut.

We enter the chief general’s residence, a large fortress with minimal design and sparse decoration. Gray and black are the main colors in this house. Every piece of furniture is there for a purpose, and nothing exists for the sole purpose of looking pretty.

“Is the chief general not home?” I ask. Even if Ezra and I are under disguise, I expected the master of the house to come out and greet us at the door.

“My father is at the Nungul border, Your Majesty. And so are my brothers,” Wayne says.

He leads us across a courtyard into a gray five-story building.

Our suite is on the second floor, spanning what must be an entire wing. The rooms are also bare and lacking in decoration, but the black wooden furniture and satin blankets are of high quality.

“I want to see everyone in three hours,” Ezra says.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Wayne says.

“Have someone prepare baths and meals.”

“I will see to it.”

Wayne excuses himself from the room. A moment later, ten manservants carry buckets of steaming water to the suite. They dump the water into the round bathtub in the corner of the room until the tub is full.

My skin begins to itch. I’d suppressed the discomfort until now, but the clear water beckons me, promising warm comfort if I just sink my body into it.

A couple maids move a silk screen in front of the tub. “My lady, your bath is ready,” a maid says.

For a moment, I’m not sure if the maid is talking to me. Then I realize that Wayne might not have told anyone of our identity.

I look at Ezra, who is already sitting down on a table writing something. He smiles. “You can go first,” he says, reading my mind.

“There are no clean garments.” I furrow my eyebrows. What is the point of taking a bath if I can’t change into fresh clothes?

“My Lady, someone was sent to acquire a dress for you. She’ll return shortly,” a maid says.

I want to wait for the dress to arrive before dipping into the bath, but the soil on my clothes is driving me crazy. I cast a glance at Ezra, making sure he’s still at the table before I walk behind the silk screen and allow the maids to disrobe me.

As they peel one layer after another off, I can’t help but stare at Ezra’s silhouette behind the translucent gray screen. His head is bent in concentration on something on the table, but his mere presence is doing weird things to my body.

I step into the warm water and sigh in happiness. The maids use washcloths and soaps to scrub my skin. I close my eyes and lean back on the headrest, imagining it’s Ezra’s hands kneading and rubbing me. I lift my head and imagine him kissing me, chasing my tongue with his.

My breath becomes labored. I moan before I can stop myself. Biting my lip, I wonder if he hears me.

Not for the first time today, I don’t know what I’m doing. Ezra is my enemy. I have to seduce him, not the other way around.

“My Lady, do you want to soak for a little while longer?” a maid says.

I open my eyes, wondering if they heard my moan too. If they did, their expressions give no indication. “No.”

I stand, letting water drip down my body. A maid wraps a towel around me and helps me out of the tub. The other maid disappears for a short moment and returns with a clean dress.

The dress is a simple affair of chiffon the color of the sea. The light material flutters with every step I take. It’s by far not the most expensive dress I’ve ever had, but it brings out my fair skin and slim figure.

Ezra’s eyes brighten when he sees me. I hide a satisfied smile and make my way to the vanity table to brush my hair.

One of the maids disappears for a while and comes back with manservants to wash the bathtub and change the water. This time, the manservants stay to assist Ezra.

His bath routine is much faster than mine. By the time the maid finishes brushing and drying my hair, he’s already dressed.

He looks magnificent in an olive robe, somehow managing to make the simple garment elegant.

“Bring in the food,” Ezra says to the servants.

“Yes, My Lord.” A manservant takes his leave.

He comes back with a couple plates of pasta, fish, and vegetables. It’s not the most appetizing dish I’ve ever eaten, but it’s the first plate I finished with such speed.

Ezra says to me, “You’re tired. You should rest.”

The bath was relaxing, and my lids do feel heavy, but … “But I thought we have to meet with someone soon.”

“You don’t have to be there.”

“Who are you meeting?”

He hesitates for a moment.

“I understand. It’s something you can’t tell me.” I press my lips together and stand from the chair.

“No. That’s not what I mean.” Ezra rises to grab my hand, stopping me on my way to the bed. “They’re my supporters. If you’re interested, you can come with me.”

“Would that be all right?” I am a part of House of Ufran. The emperor’s true supporters won’t be happy to see me, the daughter of the self-proclaimed regent.

“Of course. You’re my empress.”

I clutch the amulet, somehow believing that if I hold onto it tight enough, my speeding heart will slow down a little. He’s doing it again. He’s smiling! The smile softens his face, making him radiant. My skin flushes and I forget to breathe.

I force myself to look away, breaking the spell. “You’re lying. I can’t accompany you everywhere.”

“You can if you want.”

“Even to the morning court?” I turn to him, taking in his every expression. An emperor’s harem, even the empress, is not allowed to attend court without unusual circumstances.

He hesitates only for a moment before he says, “Even to court.”

I stare at him, not knowing what to say. If he keeps his promise, then he would be breaking an unspoken rule that has been honored for generations.

“There is still an hour. You have some time to rest,” Ezra says.

He leads me to the bed and tucks me in. Unlike my previous dresses, the one I have on right now doesn’t feel uncomfortable when I lie down. I close my eyes as he pulls the blanket over my shoulder. I can’t look at him right now. I can’t afford to get lost in his emerald eyes. If I do, nothing will save me.

Ezra is a cold-blooded emperor who wouldn’t spare an innocent among a group of criminals. He’s responsible for the death of hundreds of my family, including my mother and Ian. He would order the execution of all of them if I let my guard down. I am not just Ursila. I’m Ursila Ufran. I’d lived for myself in my last life. In the end, I’d lost everything. I can’t make the same mistake twice.

I clutch the amulet until my hand becomes numb.

My eyes are closed, but I can feel his presence beside me. He’s there, sitting on the edge of the bed. No matter how tired I am, I can’t fall asleep.

A while later, someone knocks at the door to our suite. “My Lord, my master said everyone is waiting for you in his study.”

“Tell him I’ll be there,” Ezra says.

“His study is on the east wing of the first floor. Would you want me to wait for you?”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Very good.”

Ezra nudges my arm. “Ursila.”

I open my eyes.

“Do you still want to come?”

“Of course,” I say, suppressing the knot in my stomach.

“It’s time to go.” He helps me up from the bed and leads me out of the room, down some flights of stairs, and through a large wooden door in the east wing.

The heavy wood swings shut behind us, and everyone inside turns to us.

There are more people than I expected. Sitting on either side of a carpeted path leading toward a large desk are two rows of nobles. I remember many of their faces in the palace receiving hall. There are twelve of them, and all of them rise to their feet.

“Your Majesty!” they cry in unison.

When I step forward from behind Ezra, several of them gape at me.

Ezra walks straight toward the master’s seat at the end of the room. Wayne has taken the chair to the right, leaving Ezra the seat behind the desk.

The nobles’ stares weigh down my legs. I feel like I’m walking into an important discussion that is not meant for me. But I can’t back down. I have to know more about Ezra, his enemies, and his friends in order to find a way to avoid what had happened in my last life. I raise my chin and follow Ezra.

“Your Majesty.” A middle-aged man with a pointy beard and sharp eyes steps forward. “Her Majesty must have gotten lost. Lord Wayne, why don’t you ask someone to send her to her room?”

I narrow my eyes on the man. If I’m not mistaken, he’s the minister of justice, Tryant Rustin. Serene had pointed her father out to me once.

Wayne looks at Ezra.

Ezra takes his seat behind the desk and ignores both of them.

Another noble steps forward. He’s a handsome man in his forties with a stern face and imposing aura. I recognize him immediately as Duke Thenan, the head of House of Thenan.

“Your Majesty, the minister of justice does have a point. It’s not suitable for Her Majesty to be here,” Duke Thenan says.

Ezra turns to Duke Thenan, giving him his attention. “I understand what you mean, but Ursila is my empress. She shall accompany me anywhere she wishes.”

Ezra holds a hand out to me. I pick up my dress and climb the couple steps to his desk. There is no seat for me, so I sit next to him in the wide chair.

Duke Thenan furrows his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything else.

“Sit,” Ezra says. “Duke Thenan, why don’t you give me an update of what’s going on in the palace?”

“Issan arrived at the capital with over a thousand soldiers from Yonte Kingdom. He proclaimed you dead from an accident and said he’s here to assume the throne as the only heir. No one believes him, but no one dares to kill him, afraid that he is, indeed, the last of the royal line.”

“How did a thousand Yonte men arrive at our capital without my knowledge?” Ezra asks.

“It’s a conspiracy, Your Majesty!” a younger noble with blue eyes stands up. “They snuck into our empire under disguise when ambassadors from our neighboring kingdoms came to pay respect to Your Majesty. Issan has planned this for a long time. He’s now in the palace, preparing for his coronation.”

“How many soldiers do we have?”

“One thousand.” Wayne looks at Ezra. “We have one thousand we can use right now, but the minister of war supports Issan. He has one thousand men around the vicinity of the capital as well.”

That means Issan has a total of two thousand men compared to our one.

“But if Your Majesty returns to the palace, the people who support Issan might change their minds,” Wayne continues. “Tomorrow—”

“No.” Ezra cuts him off. He looks ahead at nothing in particular, as though the whole room of people is of no importance. “We wait.”

“What are we waiting for, Your Majesty?” Tryant furrows his brows.

Ezra glances at him. “For everyone to make his choice.”

A sudden chill runs down my spine. I stare at his cold gaze and I can’t help but shiver. Ezra wants to wait for everyone to make his decision. After he retakes control of the throne, what will happen to those who didn’t choose him? I don’t know who made which choice in my last life, and I don’t remember what happened to each of the nobles. All I know is House of Ufran didn’t stand behind him during this time of chaos, and a year later, my house ceased to exist.

“But Your Majesty, the more time we waste, the more people would support Issan,” Wayne says.

“I made up my mind,” Ezra says.

I look from him to the twelve nobles in the study, wondering what made them choose him. He’s not the fairest ruler, and he doesn’t always listen to advice. Sometimes he’s like a rock, hard to get through and harder of heart.

“What about Issan’s men? How are we supposed to fight against an army twice our number?” another noble says.

“They won’t be a problem,” Ezra replies.

“Your Majesty has a plan to deal with them?” he asks. “May we know Your Majesty’s intentions?”

I lower my lids to stare at my hand for a moment, trying to remember exactly how Ezra had dissolved Issan’s army in my last life. No matter how hard I try, the answer eludes me.

“Go back to your posts. Pretend nothing has happened. In five days, I want to know who I can trust and who are my enemies,” Ezra says.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the nobles say.

Ezra makes a hand gesture and they take their leave. When everyone has left, he offers me his hand and helps me out of the chair.

We return to our suite in silence.

“Are you afraid?” he asks.

“Of what?” I arch an eyebrow.

“We’re badly outnumbered. If Issan finds us, he will ensure our death.”

“No, I’m not afraid of Issan.” The only person I’m afraid of is him. The exiled prince is no match for the ice emperor, not in my last life and not in this life.

His lips curve in a smile. He looks at me one last time before turning to face the hall.

“How do you plan to drive Issan out?” I can’t resist asking.

I thought he wouldn’t answer, like he wouldn’t answer that noble’s question, so I’m surprised when he says, “Because the minister of war won’t use his soldiers to attack us. Instead, he’ll poison the one thousand Yonte soldiers and ensure they’ll never return to Yonte Kingdom.”

My mouth dries. “Why? I thought he’s on Issan’s side.”

“No. He’s my secret weapon.” Ezra enters our rooms.

I follow him, and the door closes behind me in a thump. I stand beside the door like a lamb trapped in the same cage as a lion.

“You knew about Issan’s plans beforehand. You knew the assassins were coming when we were in the temple,” I say. Otherwise, how else could he ask the minister of war to deceive Issan?

“I didn’t know the assassins would corner us at the temple. I thought they would attack much later.” He sits down at the table and pours himself a cup of tea. “The minister of war acts as my spy without my prior knowledge.”

“Then how do you know he’s acting?”

As if on a cue, a pigeon flies in through the window, straight for Ezra. He holds out a hand and the pigeon lands on his palm. Not until Ezra retrieves a tiny pipe tied around the pigeon’s foot do I notice the paper rolled inside the pipe.

Ezra reads the contents of the paper and holds it over the candle on the table. The flame licks the paper, turning it into ashes. He releases the edge of the paper just before fire touches his hand.

I got my answer. They’ve been exchanging messages without my knowledge.

“What if he’s lying?” I ask.

“He won’t. I know him,” Ezra says with such certainty that my last doubt disappears.

My lids drop to cover half of my eyes. The boy emperor who was raised by a maid in a village isn’t as dumb as everyone has thought. For most people, the day they realize it is the day it’s too late. In my last life, Issan was sentenced to death. He didn’t spare his own brother. How could I expect him to spare House of Ufran?

A sudden chill makes me hug myself. I don’t realize I’m shivering until Ezra glances at me. “The bed would be warmer. You didn’t get enough rest earlier.”

“What about you?” I bite my lips right after I say this. The question sounds too much like an invitation.

“I have to look through some reports.” Ezra gestures at the pile of scrolls on the table beside his teacup.

I let out a breath I’m holding, not sure if I’m more relieved or disappointed. I want to ask him more questions, such as the wellbeing of my maids and House of Ufran, but he already has a scroll open in his hand, so I decide to ask him later. In my last life, neither of them was affected by Issan anyway.

I take off my slippers and change into a chemise behind a screen. My pulse races a mile a minute. Although I don’t look at Ezra, my body is all too aware of him. I climb onto the bed and sink into the pillow. The satin blanket feels cool on my skin.

My lids flutter closed and I wait for him to join me. It’s already late. The moon is hanging high in the sky.

He doesn’t. I open my eyes to find him working through the pile of scrolls.

His head is bent, reading the paper in his hands. Now and then, he wets the tip of a quill pen with ink and writes something on the paper.

I stare at him until I can no longer keep my eyes open.

I think I’m deep asleep, but I know the moment he sits on the bed, dipping the mattress with his weight. His attention is hard to ignore. Even with my eyes closed, I know he’s looking at me.

My breathing slows until it practically stops. I wonder what’s on his mind right now. Am I still the pretty girl without depth or do I mean something to him now that we’ve been through so much?

Breathe. I need to breathe. No matter awake or asleep, he would notice something odd if I don’t breathe.

He cups my face. The heat of his breath comes ever closer. I should stay put. I want him to kiss me. I want to have him under my power, fallen hopelessly in love with me. Yet my head turns to the side at the last minute.

His hand stiffens. Then he pulls the blanket up to cover my chest and lies beside me. For the rest of the night, I listen to the sound of his breathing, wondering if he’s upset and wanting to kick myself for turning away.

Chapter 12

The sound of bells pierces through my dreams. It’s not that the noise is loud—far from it—but that particularly clear sound rings straight to my ears. I spring up on the bed. Sweat rolls down my forehead.

Ezra is gone. No one is in the room except for me. And there are definitely no bells.

I must be dreaming. I clutch the clothes in front of my chest and wait for my pounding heart to slow.

Then I hear it again.

Ling ling. Ling ling.

My eyes dart from one end of the room to the other, looking for the bell that keeps on playing in my head.

Nothing.

I grab my head, digging my fingers into my hair.

Ling ling. Ling ling.

Stop. Someone stop the bells!

I must have screamed because a moment later, a maid bursts into the room and asks me if I’m all right.

“The bells. Did you hear them?” I ask.

She looks at me with a blank expression.

“Tell whoever it is to stop ringing the bells,” I say.

Now she looks guarded.

“I …” I stop myself just in time. I have a feeling if I continue to insist on the matter with bells, she’s going to send for Ezra or a healer to report my lost sanity.

I’m not going crazy. I might have the problem with the headaches, but never in my last life did I lose my mind.

I dismiss her and look out the window in the direction the sound came from.

The room I’m in is on the second floor. The sun has risen in the sky and the streets are full of people going from one place to another. Shops have opened their doors for business, and stands offer all kinds of products for sale.

Everything looks normal. As far as I can see, there is no stand selling bells and there is no one who wears bells as adornment.

I rub my temple. I must be hearing things. Great. Just great. In addition to frequent headaches, now I’m hearing sounds that are not there.

I’m about to release my hold on the curtain when a black stallion drags a tastefully designed carriage down the street.

They’re so close that I can make out the blossoms and plants carved onto the wooden carriage and the floral patterns of the curtains that cover the windows.

I lean over the windowsill to get a better look. The black stallion. The whites of its eyes. And the two silver bells hanging around the stallion’s neck.

No. It can’t be. This is just a coincidence. Surely there must be hundreds of horses wearing silver bells in this empire. Even Wayne’s horse wears bells.

I didn’t get a good look at the carriage that killed me in my last life. Although it seems similar to the one I just saw, it can’t be this particular horse and this carriage that is passing me right now.

Even if it is, so what? It was an accident. It’s not as if I can walk up to the driver and tell him he ran me over in the streets once. He’ll just think I’m crazy.

It’s not this carriage. Not this horse. Not this driver.

It’s not.

Yet as the carriage rounds the corner and disappears from my view, my mind blanks out. The next moment, I throw on a cloak and race out of the room, knocking over a tray of food as I brush past a maid in the hall.

“My Lady,” she cries after me, but I don’t stop.

My heart beats a million times a minute as I practically fly down the stairs and out the door. By the time I get to the street, it’s gone.

I should go back. Everyone is staring at me, and I’m not sure if they’re looking at my disheveled hair or if they recognize my face.

I need to go back, but just one more street. If the carriage is not on the next street over, then I’ll return to my room and forget about the stallion with the bells.

Nothing. Nothing. And nothing.

I search one street after another, turning back every now and then to check if I miss something. The carriage is gone. There is no sign of it anywhere. I begin to think maybe I imagined it. The impression of the carriage pulled by a stallion is so strong in my mind that I’m seeing things.

My shoulders slump. I head back to Wayne’s house in defeat.

That carriage couldn’t be the same carriage as my last life anyway. What is the chance?

No, it’s not the same one.

I freeze as I catch sight of the carved carriage and black stallion coming back and stopping right outside Wayne’s house, as if the driver finally found his destination after a detour. The smooth wooden door opens and the driver places a stool beside the door.

Then a foot encased in a slipper steps on the stool. Out comes a woman in a pearl white gown with hair the color of sunset.

A strange heaviness weighs down my chest. I walk to the side until I’m at the right angle to see her face, and then my heart sinks.

Serene!

She makes her way toward me.

“Your Majesty, you shouldn’t be outside,” she whispers and grabs my arm to pull me into the door. “Be careful of Issan’s men.”

I forget to yank my arm away. Everything fades away except for the lovely woman in front of me who is looking at me with concern.

Serene.

She was in that small city on the day of my death. She could also be here, in the capital, riding through the streets.

“Is that your carriage and horse?” I point at them.

“Yes. My father gave them to me for my birthday.”

And then warmth seeps out of my body.

Out of all the carriages and horses in that small city, it’s Serene’s stallion which ran me over. Shortly before it happened, I caught her with Draven.

All of a sudden, the accident that ended my life doesn’t seem like an accident anymore.

“Is something the matter?” She lowers her head to look at me in the gentle way of hers that had melted my defenses.

“Why are you here?” I ask with a coldness that radiates from my heart. Buried within the layers of ice is pain. I don’t know why pain sears through me right now. It wasn’t the first time someone attempted to assassinate me, and I already knew Serene had betrayed me. There is no reason.

Absolutely none, except for the little fact that she used to be my friend.

“Father wants me to deliver a message to His Majesty.”

“Don’t you have messengers to do that, and doesn’t your presence draw more attention to the whereabouts of His Majesty?” The only reason the minister of justice would want his own daughter to deliver a message is to give her more opportunity with Ezra. I can’t bear to look at her, so I turn away.

“Father said not to worry.”

I want to ask her why. Why would she kill me? I didn’t do a thing to warrant it. I fell into Draven’s and her trick like the dumbest fool. She got what she wanted. Draven got what he wanted. Why did she have to murder a girl who had lost everything?

The question got stuck in my throat.

“I heard that a royal healer is working on a cure for one of your maids,” Serene says.

I don’t reply.

“Do you know which one of your maids has frequent headaches?” she asks.

I glance at her. “I have so many maids.”

“I heard she’s pretty.”

“All of my maids are pretty.” Only the best were sent to serve at my tower.

“She—”

“Why do you care about a maid?”

Her expression freezes for a short second before a gentle smile glides over her lips. “I just feel sorry for the poor thing. If her condition is so severe, maybe I can bring her to my suite and give her the lightest duties.”

“You mean I abuse my staff.”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why does she have to go to your suite?”

She looks like she swallowed a grapefruit whole. But that, also, only lasts a short second. Under different circumstances, I would commend her ability to change faces so fast.

“I apologize, Your Majesty. I should’ve realized you would take care of your own people.” Her reply is smooth, as though the moment of awkwardness didn’t exist. “But it’s such a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“What is?”

“The fact that one of your maids suffers from frequent headaches, just like you.” Her eyes narrow slightly as she says this.

Serene is harder to fool and more observant than Draven.

“Yes, it is,” I say. “Maybe when that healer comes up with the cure, I’ll be one of the beneficiaries.”

“Now you’re jesting. If Your Majesty ordered the royal healers to discover the cure, they would work day and night to do it.” Serene holds a lace fan to cover her smile.

All the royal healers would, except for the most talented one. Somehow, I doubt Draven would be more enthused to cure the empress than Sila.

By now, we’ve reached the main house. A servant walks up to Serene to take her to where she needs to go, and I return to my room.

I should’ve gone with her because although my body is in my room, my mind is where she is. She’s with Ezra, giving him some message that’s apparently so important that it couldn’t be delegated to a common messenger.

What are they doing right now at somewhere I can’t see? Serene can be enchanting and attentive if she wants to be. Would the ice emperor melt to her charms just like everyone else?

I set down the silver spoon beside the breakfast a maid brought me.

“Where is the … my husband?” I bite back the word emperor at the last minute.

“I don’t know. Would you like me to find out?” the maid asks.

“Please,” I say.

She leaves, and I have no more appetite for food.

My finger taps the wooden table, and I can’t make myself stop. Serene is one of Ezra’s mistresses. Her father is one of Ezra’s supporters, unlike my father who must be on Ezra’s most-wanted list. It didn’t bother me before, but now, her identity is like a thousand ants crawling over my skin.

The maid finally comes back and tells me Ezra is in a meeting.

“Where?” I ask.

“In Master Wayne’s study,” she replies.

I dab the corner of my lips with a cloth napkin and stand. That must be the same place as yesterday.

“My Lady, the steward said they’re not to be interrupted. No one is allowed to go in.”

“No one doesn’t include me.” I walk to the door.

The maid wrings her hands. “But the steward gave specific orders not to—”

“Then just pretend you know nothing of my intentions. I decide to visit Wayne’s study myself. If he has a problem, have him talk to me.”

“But—”

I throw the door open and cut her off with a look. She still seems unconvinced, but I know she wouldn’t go fetch the steward to stop me.

Wayne’s study is not far from my room. I get there in minutes.

“My Lady, His Lord is in a meeting with some important nobles.” A guard takes a step forward from his post beside the door to block me.

“Are you saying I’m not important or I’m not a noble?” I tilt my head.

“No, I didn’t mean that.” His fair face flushes pink. “His Lord is in the middle of a discussion and wishes no interruption.”

“Let him know I’m here.”

“But he ordered me to allow no one inside.”

“How do you know he doesn’t want to see me if you didn’t tell him?”

He looks like he’s about to say something before deciding against it. “Yes, My Lady.”

He slips inside the door to report my request. I stand with my hands folded in the depth of my dress. I sounded confident, but I’m not sure if Ezra would want me inside. He has softened his attitude against me—yes—but that doesn’t mean he would want a daughter of his enemy to know about his plans. Last night was just a slip. No matter what he said, I’m still Ursila Ufran.

So when the guard comes back to tell me I can enter, I stare at him for a second before walking into the study.

There are not as many people here this time. Ezra sits on the master’s chair with Wayne and Serene at either side of him. Only a few more nobles, whose names I don’t recall, occupy some of the seats. Everyone stops talking when I appear, like advisors who don’t want to have their strategies overheard.

The seats closest to Ezra are already taken. I could settle down on one of the multiple empty ones, but why should I? If a mistress can sit next to Ezra, it’s degrading for the empress to sit so far from him.

Serene seems to notice my dilemma, for she rises from her chair. “Your Majesty, forgive me for taking the seat closest to His Majesty. I didn’t know you would be here.”

I used to love her modesty. Now I detest it. From the looks the nobles pass among each other, I don’t need to be able to mind-read to know what they’re thinking. The empress’s interruption on the meeting she’s not invited to contrasts greatly with the well manner of the mistress.

“No need.” Ezra holds out his hand to me.

I lift my gown and walk toward him, clasping his hand as he helps me into the wide armchair he’s on.

Hisses of shock reach my ears. Now, they’re staring at me like I’m an enchantress who has seduced their emperor.

For a long moment, no one says anything. Whatever their discussion was before I came stops.

Then an old man with a stern face bows to Ezra. “Your Majesty, it’s highly inappropriate for another person to sit with you when we’re conducting an important meeting.”

“She’s not anyone. She’s the empress.” Ezra glances at the old man.

He frowns, deepening the wrinkles on his face. “An emperor’s harem shouldn’t influence politics, no matter if she’s the empress or not.”

“Then what is she doing here?” I point at Serene.

“She’s merely delivering a message. Unlike Your Majesty, she didn’t interrupt or comment on the discussions.”

Deep inside, I know he’s right. I shouldn’t have barged in like I did. I don’t know what came over me or what I was thinking. But it’s done and it can’t be reversed. I would’ve been more receptive to apologizing for my actions if Old Man were not so pushy. He glares at me like I’m a siren who would beguile his valiant emperor if I don’t disappear right now.

I raise my chin and look him in the eye. I’m the empress of this empire and Ezra’s wife. No one can tell me I can’t sit with Ezra.

“Teal,” Ezra says. “I’m sure my ancestors have broken this rule many times.”

“Not while they’re having a political discussion.”

His name rings a bell. It takes me a moment to remember that he’s the minister of etiquette. No wonder he’s so old-schooled.

Wayne clears his throat. “As we were saying, the minister of justice believes Issan will strike soon. Issan might’ve suspected that Your Majesty is currently in the capital. We must take action now.”

“I have a house at the edge of the capital in a less trafficked area. Your Majesty can go there. I’m sure Issan won’t think to search there,” a young noble says.

“The point is not to hide,” another noble says. “We have to take over the capital and the palace now, before more and more courtiers succumb to Issan’s pressure.”

“That’s easier said than done. Who’s going to fight the Yonte army stationed in the capital? And the minister of war … that treacherous bastard!” Another noble slams his fist on his side table.

I sit there with my hands folded on my lap, wondering when Ezra is going to say something to end the discussion. A small part of me wants to smile. He told me a secret that he obviously hadn’t shared with his supporters. They still think the minister of war is our enemy.

If I knew this meeting was about several courtiers arguing back and forth with no real strategy in mind, I would probably think twice about attending it.

Ezra pours himself another cup of wine. He wets his lips with the wine as he stares ahead, looking at everyone but seeing no one.

I want to jump to my feet and tell them all to shut up. If they think Issan has already suspected Ezra’s whereabouts, shouldn’t we all be leaving here right this second instead of arguing? And what were they thinking when they all came here? Between last night and today, the number of courtiers and nobles who came to Wayne’s house would be a red flag to Issan if he had someone spying on any of them. They might think they’re being discreet, but one of them is bound to leave unintended hints.

A soft thud comes to me from outside the door. I barely hear it due to the noise that everyone is making.

I look around to see if someone else notices the unusual sound. The nobles continue to argue. Ezra is still more interested in the goblet in his hand than anything else. And Serene is the perfect example of an emperor’s mistress who doesn’t intervene in politics.

“Maybe we should hire people to assassinate Issan. That’ll take care of the problem once and for all,” a young noble says.

“Assassinate who?” The door creaks open and someone enters.

“Iss—” The name strangles off the young noble’s throat when we can make out the person who spoke. The noble’s mouth falls open in shock.

The handsome man at the door has emerald eyes the same color as Ezra, except they’re more piercing and invasive. A heavy cloak drapes down his shoulders, flowing against his legs with every step he takes.

He walks into the room like he’s strolling in his private garden. The hairy men behind him, however, storm in with swords drawn, surrounding us in minutes.

My heart beats loud and fast. I’m not sure if Ezra recognizes him, for he never saw him before, but I had. He’s none other than Issan, the previous crown prince of Viscent Empire and the man who wants Ezra dead.

The thud I heard must be the guard’s body dropping to the ground. I wonder if he’s dead. I wonder if all of this had happened in my last lifetime. The hairy soldiers from Yonte Kingdom are too numerous to count. They surround us like a hundred gorillas staring down at some measly ants. One in particular, Iender, stares at me with his teeth bared and his hand flexing on his hilt.

I glance around the room at the frozen nobles and the Yonte soldiers. The comfortable seat under me feels like it’s on fire. I want to jump up, stand, anything except sitting there waiting for Iender’s blade to fall down onto my neck, but Ezra doesn’t move and I have no reason to be more afraid than him.

“Ezra Viscent, emperor of Viscent Empire, my half brother,” Issan declares. He stops a couple steps from us and looks down at us with a triumphant smile. “Nice to finally meet you.”

In the corner of my eye, Wayne grabs onto the arms of his chair to get up from his seat. He’s halfway up before half a dozen Yonte soldiers point their swords at him, forcing him to sit back down.

Ezra finally turns his eyes to Issan. “If you leave Viscent Empire right now, I can forgive you for violating your exile.”

Issan throws his head back and laughs. Then without warning, he swings his arm, slamming Ezra to the table and knocking over the goblet of wine and plates of fruit.

“Ezra!” I grab his arms to help him up. My heart squeezes when I notice the redness of his cheek and the blood dripping down the corner of his lips.

I reach out to wipe off the blood, but he grabs my hand and stands up before I can touch him.

“I don’t need you to forgive me for anything.” Issan shoves the desk away. “I’m the crown prince of Viscent Empire and the rightful emperor. You’re just a peasant who belongs in the countryside. You should never show yourself. You should never exist.”

The intense hatred in Issan’s eyes makes me shiver. I’m Empress Ursila Ufran. I can stand strong in the face of verbal attacks and disagreements, but when it comes to physical strength, I’m just a defenseless woman. I wonder if he’s going to hit me. I wonder how in hell did Ezra got out of this one if he experienced this in his last life.

Ezra wipes off the blood on his lips with his sleeve and pulls me behind him. He doesn’t have the build of those huge Yonte soldiers, but the wildness of my heartbeat slows down. I look up at his back and feel safer than I did a second ago. No matter what happens, I’m not alone. He won’t abandon me, not in the cave, not now.

“And so you enlisted the help of the ambitious Yonte Kingdom?” Ezra stands to his full height. “Tell me, Issan, what did you promise them in exchange for their help?”

Iender advances on us. “Your Highness, don’t bother your pretty head with him. Leave him for me. You can count him dead. As for the fair empress, I’m sure she could amuse my men for a day or two.”

Ezra still looks calm, but perhaps only I notice the tightness of his fists and the bulging of the veins on his hands. I grab his arm, not sure if I want to prevent him from doing something rash or to take comfort in the touch.

Weird. I should be afraid, frightened out of my wits. Yet the angrier Ezra is, the more my heart leaps. He’s angry for me. The ice emperor who didn’t care for anyone cares about me. The way he’s gripping onto my hand right now is so tight that it’s painful, but my body grows warm all over. In my last life and this life combined, I’d never felt so wanted.

“Iender, I allowed you to return to your country out of the kindness of my heart, yet you threw away the last chance I gave you and Yonte Kingdom.” Ezra looks at Iender like he’s looking at a dead man.

Iender stares at Ezra for a long moment. Then he chuckles. “Did everyone hear that? The boy still thinks he’s the high emperor of Viscent Empire. Can someone show him he’s no more than a bag of bones?”

The Yonte soldiers roar in laughter. They sneer and mock Ezra, pointing their thick fingers at him.

“What’s so funny? Tell me. I can use a joke just about now.” The voice from the doorway is not loud, but it takes everyone’s attention.

I stare at the young man walking in with the confidence of a predator about to close in on his prey. He’s not as bulky as the Yonte soldiers, but he’s not as lean as Ezra or Draven. His gray eyes quickly take inventory of the room, and he raises his hand to make a signal. A second later, soldiers in black chain mail flood in, surrounding the room in general and Ezra in particular. Oddly, Issan doesn’t stop him.

“Just like you to show up after the show is finished.” Iender glances at the young man. “Back off. The emperor and empress are mine.”

And then I know who he is.

I’d always thought ministers were a group of old men with beer bellies and decaying teeth. The minister of war should be someone like General Cenan, old but still strong, sturdy but not overly handsome.

I’m wrong, in all aspects.

It turns out that the current minister of war is pleasing to the eyes and couldn’t be more than a few years older than me. I try to recall his name. Surely, Father must’ve talked about him before. But no matter how hard I try, I draw a blank.

Iender sidesteps the minister of war and walks up to Ezra. A smug smile stretches across his face. “Look at the high and almighty emperor now. I’m right all along. You’re no more than a wimp who has the fortune to sit on a throne. You should take care the next time you raise your voice against a Yonte.” He raises his hand to pat Ezra’s face and something snaps within me.

I shove him back and then a loud slap reverberates through the room. I doubt it hurts, but Iender stares at me with disbelief.

My eyes must be as wide as his. I didn’t know I could move this fast until my palm connected with his rough cheeks. For a moment, I freeze where I am. What if the minister of war is not really on our side and he’s just pretending to support Ezra? What if the gray-eyed young man is not the minister of war?

Slowly, I let out the breath I’m holding. What is done is done. Issan and Iender will kill us no matter if I slap them or not. The difference is to die with my head high or on my knees begging for mercy.

“Someone like you doesn’t get to touch His Majesty,” I say, pretending I’m not as surprised as they are at my action. “And you.” I turn to Issan. “Ezra was raised in a village, yet he has more chivalry and honor than you’ll ever have. It’s no wonder the late emperor chose him over you.”

For a moment, silence encases the whole room. Everyone stares at me, and I’m not sure if they think I’m a fool or a hero.

“Your Majesty.” Serene tugs at my sleeve.

She doesn’t say anything else, but I know she’s trying to warn me, no matter if she really cares about my wellbeing or not. Perhaps, she thinks I should apologize and beg for forgiveness for my words and actions, but I have no intention of doing either. Why should I? I’m the empress and a daughter of House of Ufran. No one here can make me bend my knees, especially an exiled prince who tries to usurp Ezra’s throne. And from the tiny smile on Ezra’s lips, I know he approves.

Issan’s face turns bright red. If looks could kill, I would be dead a thousand times over. “Ursila Ufran, let’s see you say that while my men pluck your nails off one by one.”

I hope I still look unfazed.

“What are you waiting for?” Issan cries at the men around him. “Seize her!”

A few of the largest soldiers come for me. Their feet pound the floor with every step. I make myself look them in the eye with a cold gaze as though they’re not a threat and don’t make my heart quiver in fear.

Doubt infiltrates me the closer they get. I freeze where I am. The shadows on the wall tell me just how high they tower over me. I want to turn to Ezra, to draw confidence from him, but I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me cower. Just before a rough hand seizes my wrist, Ezra yanks me back, swinging a kick at the Yonte soldier and sending him to the floor.

Then it’s as if a tight string snapped. Yonte soldiers charge toward us. Their battle cries roar in the room, stirring up terror.

If I thought the steps of a Yonte soldier were heavy, it’s nothing compared to the stampedes of them as they charge at us with their swords. The floor shakes from their weight. Despite myself, I take a step back.

They’re upon us. The gleam of their swords is within a few feet of my neck. My eyes must be round when Ezra throws his arms around me, protecting me with his body. A moment later, blood stains Iender’s blade.

I don’t know this strange feeling clogging my throat. Ezra’s shoulder presses against most of my face and mouth. Only my eyes are exposed, and they stare at the red blade that is about to slice into Ezra’s back a second time. I want to push him away. I want to cover his body with mine to protect him just as he protected me, but I can’t seem to move fast enough.

“Stop!” the minister of war cries. The authoritative edge to his voice makes everyone freeze.

Over Ezra’s shoulder, I see him holding Issan hostage with a sword on Issan’s neck.

“Wh-what are you doing, Veren?” Issan pulls his head back as far from the edge of the blade as he can.

“The game is over,” the minister of war, Veren, says. “Tell everyone to back out.”

“You promised your allegiance to me.”

“So that I can be His Majesty’s eyes and ears,” he says.

“You’re a spy for him?”

“You can say that.”

“You’re a fool! Can’t you see Ezra has no chance against me? Look around you. They’re all my people.”

Veren replies by pressing the blade closer to Issan’s neck.

The first drop of blood brings fear into Issan’s eyes. “Retreat,” he calls out to the Yonte troop.

The huge men around us look at Iender.

“What are you waiting for? I said retreat!” Issan cries.

Still, they don’t move. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach as Iender looks from Issan to Ezra. The moment Iender’s hands tighten on the hilt of his sword, a silent scream tears from my throat. Ezra pushes me away and swings a side table at Iender. It slams against Iender’s large frame and breaks into many pieces. The impact only slows Iender down for a few seconds. Before Ezra can get another makeshift weapon, Iender slashes his sword down at Ezra.

“Ezra!” I cry out.

The blade sweeps through the air. Time seems to stop at this moment. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. Only the scene before me engraves into my memory, replacing my worse nightmare. Just when I think this is the end, Iender stops in mid-strike. His eyes are like two round saucers.

And then I see the sword piercing his chest from behind, coming out clean on the other side. The person behind him withdraws his sword, and Iender drops to the floor with a loud thud.

Wayne! At this moment, I love him so much that I want to hug him.

The Yonte soldiers are like a pile of loose sand without their leader. When the first escapes the room, the rest follow suit.

“Your Majesty, are you all right?” Serene pushes past me to get to Ezra.

Ezra nods, but I’m not convinced. His face looks a little too pale and the wound on his back is still soaking his clothes.

“Find a healer. Now!” I say to Wayne.

He nods. “There is a room next door where His Majesty can rest.”

“No need,” Ezra says. “I’m leaving for the palace. Veren, throw Issan into the dungeon. Wayne, gather enough men to chase after the Yonte soldiers. I don’t want any of them go back to their kingdom alive.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Veren and Wayne say in unison.

Then Ezra holds out a hand to me. I grab his arm without hesitation, supporting the weight of his body as he walks out of the house and into a carriage.

I still think he should see a healer before returning to the palace. No matter how skillful the driver is, there are many bumps along the way. But Ezra only lets me wrap a cloth bandage around his wounds to stop the bleeding.

When we finally return to Ezra’s suite in the palace, I lower Ezra to the bed and yell at the servants. “Go fetch the chief royal healer. Have him come as soon as possible.”

Then I sit down beside him and hold his hands.

He’s lying on his stomach with his eyes closed. I want to send Serene to her suite but she insists on staying.

I don’t know why, but the hand holding onto his trembles ever so slightly. I stare at him, tracing his handsome profile and pale lips.

I thought he was going to die. Things have changed between last life and this life. I thought he might not survive Iender’s strikes after all. At that moment, my mind blanked out. A searing pain scorched my heart. It was then that I realized I didn’t want him to die, not because Viscent Empire will be thrown in chaos but for other unexplainable reasons.

He squeezes my hand without opening his eyes. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Am I worrying? Why am I worrying? He is the person who beheaded my entire family. I should hate him, not worry for him.

At this moment, I really want to ask him what he has in plan for House of Ufran. Could he ever forgive my father for everything he’s done? But Serene is there, and I don’t want to ask in front of her.

“This way. His Majesty is here,” a servant says outside.

A few people walk into the suite. I pull my hand from Ezra’s, stand to greet the chief royal healer, and stare right into Draven’s hazel eyes.

“Sila.” Draven takes a step toward me. His face is bright with a smile. “I’ve been searching all over for you. Why are you here?”

My mouth dries. I can feel the intensity of Serene’s gaze.

“You are Sila,” she says.

The manservant who led Draven here bows before me. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. The chief royal healer is not in the palace. I’ve already sent someone to fetch him. In the meantime, I brought another royal healer.”

If a hole opens up on the floor right now, I wouldn’t think twice about jumping into it.

“What does he mean?” Draven takes a couple steps toward me. His smile falters.

I cringe. In the corner of my vision, Ezra opens his eyes and gazes at us.

“Si—”

“It’s obvious what he means.” I steel myself. “I’m Empress Ursila Ufran. The emperor is injured and needs your expertise.”

“Ursila Ufran.” He stumbles back a step. “Sila … Ursila Ufran.”

The look on his face should’ve made me happy. He’s the man who tricked me and stole my heart. I gave up everything for him, only to be told it’s all a lie. There was one time when I would be thrilled to hurt him just like he hurt me. But now, the loss and disbelief on his face don’t make me as happy as I thought they would.

“Royal Healer Draven, His Majesty’s wounds need to be cleaned and disinfected.” The manservant grabs Draven’s wrist.

Draven yanks his hand back and lets out a chuckle. The laugh sounds more like a cry.

Then little by little, the emotions on his face disappear and he pulls to his full height. “Yes, Your Majesty.” His words are the same temperature as ice in winter.

My heart wrenches. For a moment, I want to apologize for concealing my identity and hurting him.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. Why would I want to do that? I gave up everything to be with him. He betrayed me. This is his punishment. It’s that simple. The hurt I experienced was ten times more severe than whatever he must be feeling right now.

He deserves it.

Draven draws down the canopy around the bed to check Ezra’s wounds in private. I bite my lip and wonder what must Ezra be thinking right now. Would he become suspicious of the odd exchange between Draven and me? And what about the cure for my headaches? Now that Draven knows I’m Ursila, would Draven still be willing to give me the cure?

I don’t get to ask my question. Once Draven is done with Ezra, he leaves the room, never once looking back at me.

Serene glances at me before chasing after him. I can’t help but shiver at the accusation in her eyes.

I take a deep breath and approach Ezra’s bed.

He’s struggling to sit, so I prop him up with a pillow.

By this time, the servants are dismissed and only the two of us are in this gigantic room.

“I have to find my maids,” I say. “I’m sure Tessa and Quan will be here shortly.”

“Ursila.” He grabs my wrist as I turn to go. “Were you acquainted with Royal Healer Draven?”

My mouth dries. “He was the healer who tried to cure my headaches.

Actually, he’s more than that. He was the man who took my virginity in my last life and the one who abandoned me after I ran away with him. I’m not fond of talking about my follies, so I don’t say anything else.

He looks down at his hands and his lashes hood his bright eyes.

“I-I have to go,” I say. The silence is killing me. I have no idea what is on his mind, but I feel more and more like a wife who doesn’t want to tell her husband about her past loves.

“You could stay here for the night.”

“I have to make sure Reenan and Eve are all right.”

He doesn’t say anything, so I take off for the door.

Reenan greets me midway between Ezra’s residence and my tower. There are tears in her eyes as she runs to me. “I thought I would never see you again, Your Majesty.”

“Nonsense. What happened with you? How did you make it back?”

“The assassins weren’t interested in us maids.”

I pull her into a tight hug. For a moment, I rejoice in the comfort of her familiar scent. A lot has happened over the past week, and I’m glad for the one constant in my life.

I say the words I’ve wanted to say for a long time. “I’m sorry about Eve. She was never meant to replace you.”

“So I’m still your head maid?”

“You always were.” I smile through my tears. “She was more my father’s spy.”

Her eyes grow round. Then she shoves up her sleeves. “That treacherous snake! How dare she spy on Your Majesty! I’ve always known there was something off with her. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this.” She charges in the direction of my tower.

I stand where I am and blink several times. Maybe it’s a mistake to tell Reenan about the spy thing.

“Wait!” I pick up my dress and chase after Reenan.

Eve is sitting in my room, enjoying tea when we arrive. Her cup is inches from her lips when Reenan swipes it away, splashing the tea.

Eve stares at the cup for a moment. “What is wrong with you?”

“My hand slipped. Sorry, traitor.” Reenan plants her palms on her hips.

“You told her?” Eve arches her eyebrow at me.

“It was an accident,” I say.

“To think that all this time, I thought you were going to replace me,” Reenan says.

Eve ignores her and looks at me. “You were with His Majesty. Tell me everything.”

“Her Majesty doesn’t owe you any explanation.” Reenan blocks Eve from me.

“Leave the room. I have important things to discuss with Her Majesty.”

“Make me.” Reenan pulls to her full height and stares at Eve.

My head throbs. I drop to my bed without bothering to change into a chemise. A few feet away from me, Reenan and Eve all but practically engage in a catfight. The noise intensifies my headache, but I’m glad. It’s better that than answering Eve’s questions.

I’m supposed to seduce Ezra and bend him to my will. Why do I feel I was the one being enchanted?

The warmth that spread over me when he defended me against the assassins and came back for me in the cave … the way I couldn’t stop thinking about him when we shared the same room … and the tinge of jealousy when he met with Serene.

I must be sick. Very, very sick. Otherwise, why can’t I get his smile out of my head? He’s Ezra Viscent. He ordered my family’s execution. He’s Ezra Viscent, the ice emperor. I don’t love him. I hate him.

Chapter 13

The next morning, hurried footsteps rush into my room. If I were asleep, they’d sure wake me up. But as it is, I couldn’t fall asleep for the entire night, thinking about the pain on Draven’s face, the warmth in the ice emperor’s eyes, and the coldness of Serene’s gaze.

I close my eyes, trying to ignore the pounding headache intensifying by the second.

“Your Majesty. Your Majesty!” Reenan cries. “You have to hear this. Wake up.”

“What?” I make no move to get out of the bed.

“His Majesty is going to dismiss his mistresses. Almost all of the mistresses are heading here.”

I open my eyes and stare at Reenan, who is hovering over me.

“What did you say?” A haze covers my mind. I can’t seem to understand Reenan.

“I said the emperor is planning to return all his mistresses to their families. The mistresses are coming over. They should arrive soon.”

“Why are they coming here?” Shouldn’t they be demanding an audience with Ezra?

Reenan rolls her eyes. “You are the empress. You’re in charge of His Majesty’s harem. Of course they’ll come to you.”

I don’t know how I feel about that. I should be sorry for the mistresses. It’s not their fault their family sent them into the palace to be someone’s mistress, even if that someone is the emperor. Now that the emperor doesn’t want them, he essentially ruined them for life. Who would dare to take a former mistress of the emperor as his wife? But a secret part of me, an irresponsible and selfish part, is grinning like a fool. When all the mistresses are gone, I won’t have to share Ezra with anyone. He sent them away for me. Does that mean he loves me?

A knock shifts my attention to the open door. Eve saunters into the room with the grace of a swan.

“Your Majesty, all of the mistresses are waiting for you in your receiving hall,” Eve says. She looks pleased, as if she has something to do with Ezra’s decision.

I sit up from the bed and rub my temple. “All of them?”

They must have met up before coming over to my tower, ready to talk to me as a group. Otherwise, I can’t explain away why they’re here at the same time on the same day.

“Well, everyone except for Tessa and Serene.”

“Did Ezra dismiss them too?”

“Yes, all of them. They’re to leave the palace within two months.”

I let out the breath I’m holding. A tiny smile twitches my lips. I don’t know why I’m so happy, but I am.

Now if someone can just tell me how to face a group of my husband’s former mistresses.

I consider feigning sickness. Actually, I don’t have to feign. I do have an awful headache right now. But I decide against it. The mistresses deserve an audience.

“Help me dress.” I stand from the bed.

It’s at times like this when I wish my morning routine were not so complicated and time-consuming. By the time I finish everything, a good hour has passed.

I pick up the hem of my shimmering golden dress and hurry to the receiving hall. I can hear the chatter inside the hall even before I enter. They die down when everyone sees my approach.

“Your Majesty.” The mistresses get up from their seats and curtsy at me. I could’ve imagined it, but there is a tinge of bitterness in their tone and expressions. The curtsies are also not as deep as they used to be.

“Rise.” I gesture at them.

As they stand, I walk past them to my chair at the end of the hall.

“What brings you here?” I spin around and sink into my seat.

Rutun rolls her eyes. “Surely you must’ve heard His Majesty’s plans. You’re the one who pushed him for this.”

I did not, but looking through every one of their livid faces, I doubt they would believe me. I’m sure not all of them love Ezra, but they were sent to the palace with high expectations. They gave up on a regular marriage to be here and make a name for themselves, only to be told the emperor doesn’t want them. I would be upset too.

“I understand your concerns,” I say. “But it might be better in the long run for you to return to your families instead of wasting your life and youth in the palace.”

The look on Rutun’s face tells me what I said is bullshit.

“I beg to differ, Your Majesty.” Zeia twists her red locks around her fingers. “We were never given a chance to spend time with His Majesty. How do you know he won’t like any of us? In the past, the empresses were responsible for fair opportunity for the emperors’ harems, but you never gave us any opportunity.”

That’s because I don’t want to schedule who goes to bed with Ezra on which day. I doubt Ezra would be thrilled if I do that.

“Exactly!” For once, Rutun agrees with Zeia.

Zeia continues, “An empress should have the compassion and generosity to encompass the whole empire, yet Your Majesty can’t even share the emperor with another woman.”

I feel like someone just stuffed an oversized egg down my throat.

“Your Majesty, you can consult with Viscent Empire’s many volumes of history scrolls,” Rutun says. “None of the previous empresses did what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything.” I grab the arms of my chair and lean forward.

Zeia fans herself with her peacock feather fan. “I understand your reasons. I really do. No one likes to share her husband. Perhaps, if you marry a noble or a commoner, you won’t have to. But your husband is the emperor. The past emperors didn’t produce enough heirs as it is. In this generation, there is only the exiled Prince Issan and His Majesty. Whose fault would it be if you can’t produce the next crown prince?”

Rutun nods. “Viscent Empire needs a lot of princes. His Majesty needs us.”

I rub my temple. My headache’s coming back in full force.

“Your Majesty,” Rutun continues. “Jealousy is a crime punishable by divorce. Even a commoner knows that. I would think Your Majesty is aware of it.”

I take a deep breath. “Listen, if you want His Majesty to take back his order, go talk to him. Nothing will be accomplished here.”

Rutun scowls. “You are in charge of the emperor’s harem. You are responsible for all of us.”

I hope I don’t look as drained as I feel.

Fighting off a wave of dizziness, I try to focus on the faces in front of me. “I understand your fears. I’ll ask His Majesty to make an announcement. He was grieving over his father’s death and didn’t visit any of you. All of you are still virgins and he won’t be offended if you marry. Every one of you comes from influential families, and some are legitimate daughters of powerful houses. I’m sure you’ll find a better life outside the walls of the palace.”

A few mistresses hesitate. I can see the hope on their faces. Not all of them came to the palace of their own accord. Some might be forced by their families. If they can start over, it’ll be better for them.

“Think this through,” I say. “Would you want to be trapped inside the palace for the rest of your life or would you want to experience a real marriage and be the wife of someone you love?”

Many of them don’t look as mad as before.

“Reenan.” I turn to my head maid. “Send them to their suites.” I can’t stand the pain any longer. I need my headache concoction. Right now!

“Your Majesty, that’s not what I—” Rutun takes a step to me.

“This way.” Reenan intercepts her before she can come any closer. She gestures at the door and pushes Rutun on the small of her back.

“Don’t touch me! I’m not done. Your Majesty—”

Reenan grabs Rutun’s shoulders and walks her out. Zeia glances from me to Rutun. After a moment of hesitation, she snaps her fan closed and walks out the door. All the other mistresses follow suit.

I pop my headache pellet into my mouth and wait for the pain to go away. It doesn’t, so I ingest another one. Then another.

“Your Majesty, are you all right?” Reenan comes back.

No, I’m really not fine. The headaches are getting worse, and the concoction is losing its effectiveness day by day.

“You really don’t have to worry about the mistresses.” Eve gives me a sidelong glance. “His Majesty seems like a person who would tie all the loose ends. Let him take care of this.”

“Is it because of them?” Reenan narrows her eyes. “I shouldn’t have let them in. How are you feeling? I’ll fetch a royal healer.”

Royal healer. Why does Draven’s face always come to mind every time anyone mentions a royal healer? “No, I—”

Too late. She’s already out the door. For a second, I worry she might come back with Draven. No, of course Draven won’t be the one who would come. He hates me now. He won’t follow Reenan to my tower.

I wonder if anyone else could come up with my cure. Only the best healers can become royal healers. Surely another one of them would know what to do about my condition. The moment that thought comes to mind, I crush it. My father is the most influential man in the entire Viscent Empire. Many fear him even more than they fear the emperor. If he couldn’t find anyone to cure me for eighteen years, I doubt I could find someone on my own.

Draven is a genius, and there is none like him.

I grip the arms of my chair and push myself up. “Eve.”

“Your Majesty?” she replies.

“I have to go somewhere. Fetch me a cloak. That black one with the hood will do.”

She arches an eyebrow. “I think the silky red cloak might work better. I’m sure His Majesty would appreciate how it looks on you.”

I glance at her. “The black one will do.”

She comes back with the cloak, which I throw over my shoulders. “Tell Reenan I’ll be away for a few hours.” I pull the hood over my head until it covers half of my face.

“Do you want me to come?”

“No.”

I make my way out of my tower. By this time, I’m familiar with the path to Healer’s Wing. The closer I get, the tighter I wrap my cloak around me, hoping no one can see the elegant dress underneath and identify me as the empress.

“Excuse me.” I stop a young man carrying a pot of concoctions. “Do you know where Draven is?”

He shakes his head. “I haven’t seen him all morning.”

“Thank you.”

I watch him disappear into the opened doors of Healer’s Wing.

If Draven is not at the main halls of the wing, then he must be in his room.

I pick up my dress and enter the door into the courtyard. If I remember correctly, his room is the first one on the second floor of the left-most building.

Healer’s Wing is full of people, but fortunately, most of them are too busy to heed me. Some glance at me with suspicion, but they don’t stop me. I guess there are many maids who come and go to do errands for their masters or mistresses. Most of them wear a cloak like mine. It is a little chilly, after all. Now if I can get to Draven’s room without any of them seeing my face …

“Your Majesty.”

I jump.

“What brings you here?”

I freeze for a long while before I make myself turn to face the chief royal healer. For a man as old as he is, he has good eyesight.

“I’m just passing by.” Lame. A passerby won’t enter the door of Healer’s Wing. “I mean, I’m looking for a salve to take to His Majesty for his wound.” I can’t believe what came out of my mouth. If I intend to do that, I could’ve just asked my maid to get it. Also, it’s not like Ezra doesn’t have the best of everything. He’s the master of the entire palace and the empire, after all.

“I just came back from His Majesty’s residence and I’ve already given him something, but I’m sure His Majesty would appreciate your concern,” Isaac says.

“How is he?” Despite myself, I ask.

“His wound is deep, but it’s healing. Draven did a fine job of stitching him up and disinfecting the wound.”

I look down until my lids cover half of my eyes. Draven didn’t take it out on Ezra. But then, why would I ever think he would do that? He hates me, not the emperor. Besides, he has a certain healer’s ethic that I never understood. He cured me of my headaches in my last life even though he didn’t have to. It could be because he wanted to gain my trust, but wouldn’t it be easier for him to alleviate my pain without completely curing me?

Perhaps he would help me with my illness in this life too. Despite everything, he’s a healer, and I’ve been seeing him for my condition.

“By the way, where is Draven? I want to personally thank him,” I say.

The creases on his forehead furrow even more. “He wasn’t in Healer’s Wing this morning. I don’t know where he is.”

“Could he be in his room?” I look up at him.

He shakes his head. “I wanted him to accompany me to His Majesty’s residence, but I couldn’t find him anywhere.”

“Oh.” I can’t hide the disappointment in my voice.

“But I’ll let him know you were looking for him.”

“Thank you.”

Issac takes his leave, and I stand in the middle of the courtyard, feeling a little lost.

He’s not in Healer’s Wing. Where could he be if he’s not in Healer’s Wing?

He could be in someone’s suite, checking out his or her condition. He could be outside the palace on a nearby mountain, collecting herbs. He could be …

I pick up my dress and hurry out. There is one spot in the palace he always goes to when he feels down or needs some time alone.

My pulse picks up speed as I weave through the trees in a forest behind Healer’s Wing. I can’t begin to imagine what his reaction will be if I find him. I lied to him about who I am. My lie was exposed yesterday. Today, I’m seeking him out, asking him to cure me of my headaches.

If I were him, I would be telling me to get lost too. It’s not like he knows he betrayed me in my last life. As far as he’s concerned, I’m the one who betrayed him. But then, I won’t know until I try.

The headaches have to go. I can’t live another day with this, much less my entire lifetime.

The fragrance of plants and blossoms surrounds me. Trees become closer together the deeper I go. When I encounter a tall thorn hedge, I know I’m here.

If Draven hadn’t taken me inside the hedge before, I would never know there is a space behind the overgrowth, much less a way in. I walk around the hedge, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Thorns tear at my golden dress and tangle my hair until finally, I find an opening hidden behind a large oak.

I notice him immediately. He’s sitting on one of the stools around a square stone table with a corner chipped off.

He tilts the contents of a silver goblet down his throat and immediately refills the goblet with a bottle of red liquid. I don’t need to taste the liquid to know it could only be wine.

I watch him drink one cup. Then another. And another. I take a step forward. He said wine is good for a person’s health only in moderation, and the amount he’s drinking right now can’t be good for him.

A delicate hand snatches the goblet from him. I stop my approach and hide behind the oak again, hoping neither of them saw me.

Draven doesn’t look at the person who stole his goblet. Instead, he grabs the neck of the bottle and drinks directly from it. A string of red wine flows down his chin and disappears into his collar.

“Draven, stop,” a feminine voice says.

Serene! She must be in my blind spot. I didn’t realize she was there all this time.

“Alcohol is never a solution to any problem.” Serene wrestles the bottle from him and tosses the bottle, splashing red liquid all over the dry weeds. “You said so yourself.”

“It can be effective for numbing certain types of pain.” For someone who had consumed so much wine, Draven’s voice is surprisingly clear.

“What pain?” Serene comes closer to the table, into my view. “I am not aware that you were injured.”

Serene waits for him to reply. When it’s apparent he won’t, she forces a smile. “Draven, I received a message from His Majesty this morning. He’s going to dismiss all his mistresses and send them home to their parents.”

He looks up at her.

“Can’t you see? This is an opportunity for us.” She grabs his hands. “I never wanted to become the emperor’s mistress. This is our chance. We can leave the palace together. We can—”

“I’m not leaving the palace.”

“Why?” Her smile turns stiffer with each passing second. Then she pats her forehead. “Of course, you still haven’t gotten your revenge. Jaycin Ufran and Ursila Ufran haven’t gotten what they deserve.”

I hold my breath, lest the sound of my breathing muffle what they’re going to say next.

“I said I could help you.” Serene sinks to the ground and gazes up at Draven. The look on her face reminds me of myself when I thought about Draven. There is a ton of adoration, a tinge of weakness, and a dash of madness. “My father is the minister of justice. I’ll make sure Jaycin Ufran pays for killing your entire family. Your father, your mother, and your sister don’t deserve to die just because they couldn’t cure Ursila Ufran’s condition.”

My fingers grip the oak bark so tightly that they feel numb. What is she saying? My father killed Draven’s entire family? I’m shocked beyond words, but at the same time, a small part of me accepts the outrageous claim right away.

I remember staying at Half Moon Village for a week while a healer family examined my condition and tried all sorts of concoctions to cure me. Father had such high hopes for them. Although they lived in a remote village, they were once the best royal healers. Father said all of them could return to the palace if they wanted to, but they chose to reside in the calm village instead of the busy capital. They’re the ones who gave Father the formula for my headache concoction. Unfortunately, they failed to cure me. After an experiment went awry, my headaches got even worse, and I never saw them again.

I’d asked about them the first few weeks after I returned to House of Ufran—the mother with a pleasant smile, the father with haywire hair, the eldest daughter who was about to give birth, and the younger son whom I’d never seen—but Father told me not to think about them. They’re in the village, and it’s not likely I would ever go back there.

I cover my mouth with my hand, choking down a cry. So Draven is that younger son who was away in an apprenticeship. Did they really die? All because they couldn’t cure me?

My fingers shake. No matter how hard I clamp them over my mouth, they won’t stop trembling. So this is why Draven hates me. My father was the one who murdered his family, but I was the reason for everything. If it weren’t for me, his parents and sister would still be alive.

“House of Ufran has its share of fame and power.” Serene’s eyes turn hard. “It’s time for them to vacate their spot as the most influential house.”

Draven lets out a dry laugh.

Serene tilts her head back. “You might laugh at me now, but watch. You’ll see that I tell the truth. House of Ufran is a fire that burns too brightly. They’re way too arrogant and have no respect for the regime. If the emperor on the throne were a soft pawn, they might continue to thrive, but His Majesty is not anyone’s puppet.”

For a second, I wonder if she heard the fortune. Either that, or she’s way smarter than I took her for. The accuracy of her words sends a chill down my spine.

“Can you see, Draven?” Her eyes brighten. “There is going to be a war between House of Ufran and Emperor Ezra. They’ll struggle for power, clashing their forces to bring the other down. No matter who wins, both will be weakened and won’t be the threat that they are today.”

Is that what the high priest was referring to when he told Ezra’s fortune? Goddess Avinia sent me back in time to alter the course of history. Goddess Avinia is the protector of Viscent Empire. Could it be that something bad will happen to Ezra after he gets rid of my house? That’s why House of Ufran is not Ezra’s true enemy.

A sense of unease grips my throat. I try to remember all the nobles, foreigners, and courtiers I know. If House of Ufran is not the real threat to Viscent Empire, then who is?

“You’ll get your revenge without lifting a finger,” Serene continues.

“What will happen to Ursila?” he asks.

She blinks as though not expecting the question.

“She’s a daughter of House of Ufran and the wife of Emperor Ezra. What would become of her?” he repeats.

She looks at him long and hard without saying a word.

At long last, she asks, “Why does it matter to you?”

He shifts his gaze and stares at the goblet on the table.

She forces out a laugh. “Nothing will happen to her, of course. The emperor fancies her. He even dismissed all his mistresses for her.”

Her voice is even and calm, but there is a gleam of what could only be tears in her eyes. Again, she reminds me of myself. I must have had that look on my face the day I caught her together with Draven.

“We actually don’t need to wait for the end. We could leave now.” She grips his hands so tightly that her knuckles whiten. “I know you would rather be at the countryside than the city. We can take off for Half Moon Village and spend our life there as planned. I’m still your betrothed, like I’d never left and we’d never been parted.”

“Our engagement has already been broken.”

“But the emperor never touched me. At the time my father sent me to the palace, I thought you were dead. Even so, I refused to eat for days, but my father was adamant—”

“Serene,” Draven cuts her off. “I’m sorry.”

I swear I could hear something break, like a piece of porcelain or a fragile heart. The expression on Serene’s face freezes for a long period of time.

Draven pulls his hand from her grasp and stands up to go. He’s about to leave when Serene says, “What about the concoction I asked you to make? The one that could get rid of my birthmark?” Her voice sounds a little shaky.

Draven retrieves something from a sack hanging off his belt and sets it on the table. I can’t get a closer look at it because he’s heading my way. I hide myself completely behind the oak. My heart thumps loud and fast. Only when his footsteps recede and I can no longer hear him do I let out the breath I was holding.

Long after Draven left, Serene still sits in the same position beside the stool. Wind blows past, drying her tears. Then slowly, all expression fades from her face and her eyes turn cold.

Despite the warmth of the day, a chill courses down my spine.

I walk away from the hedge and the oak in a haze. I intend to return to my tower, but for some reason, I keep making wrong turns. The hem of my dress trails behind me like a lost puppy. Everything Serene said repeats over and over in my head.

I never knew any of this. In my last life, I was clueless. Even now, I have a hard time accepting the truth. My father killed Draven’s family, making me indirectly responsible for their lives. My father plans to usurp Ezra’s empire, pulling him down from the throne as soon as I’m with child.

Perhaps we deserve everything that had happened to us in our last life. Maybe we’re the evil ones, not Draven and not Ezra.

My mind is still reeling when I arrive at my tower.

Reenan grabs my hands. “Your Majesty, you’re finally back! Where have you been? I was worried for you.”

“I was at—”

“You won’t believe who is here.” She squeezes my hands. “It’s His Majesty! He’s waiting for you in your bedchamber.”

“Who?”

“His Majesty.” Eve walks down the hall toward me. “I told him you were away in the gardens. That was an hour ago, and he has been waiting for you ever since.”

If my face reflects what I feel, then I must be wearing a blank expression, unsure how to react to his presence in my tower.

“Your Majesty, go. I’ll ask for dinner to be served.” Reenan pushes me forward on the small of my back.

“Wait.” Eve plants herself in front of me. Examining me from head to toe, she makes a tsk-tsk sound. “Where have you been?” She picks out a stray leaf from my hair and a twig that clings to my dress. “This won’t do. You must take a bath and put on something fresh. Reenan, go tell His Majesty it’s going to be a while.”

Eve pulls me into a different chamber and rants out orders at the servants until everyone scurries to carry out her wishes. I can’t say I’m not glad when I’m submerged in a warm rose water bath. I don’t think I’m as dirty as she made it out to be, but the calming scent and the hot steam relax the tension in my shoulders.

The bath ended way too soon. Eve dresses me in a pearl white gown with a neckline so low and the corset so tight that I fear my breasts will pop out with every breath. Before I get a chance to protest, she escorts me to my room and shoves me inside, shutting the door in my face.

I swear. Tomorrow, I’ll have a long chat with her. She might be sent by my father, but I’m still the empress in my palace.

“Ursila?” Ezra says from behind.

I take a deep breath and turn around. He’s sitting cross-legged in front of a low table. A feast of a dozen dishes is spread on the table, but he only holds a book in his hand. The moment he sees me, his eyes darken. I can tell he works hard to concentrate only on my face, but he’s not always successful.

I itch to throw a cloak over myself, but that would be odd, so I pretend half of my chest is not on display.

“Your Majesty.” I sink into a curtsy.

Goddess! I’m surprised Eve hadn’t choked the air from my lungs with how tightly she pulled my corset.

Ezra clears his throat and gestures at the cushion across from him. I take my seat, hoping my bodice won’t rip from the tension.

“What brings you here?” I pour myself and him a goblet of wine.

“I wanted to check on how you were doing. Where were you earlier?”

I wet my lips with the wine. It tastes a little sweet and tangy. “I was taking a walk.” That’s not entirely a lie. Minus the spying on Draven and Serene part. “How is the wound on your back?”

“It’s healing.”

I wait for him to say something else. When it’s apparent he’s not much of a talker, I say, “I heard you are dismissing your mistresses.”

“They’re wasting their youth in the palace. Did they give you trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” I take another sip.

None of the servants are here, and Ezra doesn’t look like he’s going to serve himself any time soon, so I ladle some soup into his silver bowl.

Ezra doesn’t pick up his spoon. Instead, he sets his book down. Ira climbs into his lap as soon as his hand is empty. “Something is bothering you today.”

“There is nothing.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He finally looks away from me to stroke Ira’s fur. I gulp down a mouthful of wine and cough as it stings my throat.

After my second goblet of wine, he finally says, “It might taste sweet, but the aftereffect is not pleasant.”

Whatever the effect is, it can’t be worse than my splitting headaches and the heaviness weighing down my heart right now.

What happens if a girl hated a guy for so long only to discover he has a reason to be a jerk to her? What happens if a girl’s father is the villain who kills people on a whim and who plots to overtake the entire empire?

The people I thought were good turned out to be evil, and the ones who are my enemies are actually the heroes. So why am I here, turning time back one year to help the people who might’ve deserved their fate?

I draw on my drink. The wine leaks out of the corner of my mouth and makes a trail down my throat. Down. Down, until it disappears into my cleavage.

“Ursila, you’re drinking too much.” Ezra seizes my goblet. His voice sounds a little husky.

I’m not drinking nearly as much as Draven.

I reach over to grab the goblet, but Ezra hauls me up before I can take it. The room swims in my vision. My legs feel like a pair of overcooked noodles.

I feel so happy. So happy that I cry. I don’t need to worry about saving House of Ufran because none of us deserves to be saved. I don’t need to do anything. Everyone will get his justice in due time.

“Ursila.” Someone shakes my shoulder.

I concentrate on the face in front of me. He pushes me to the bed and then he’s above me.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

I must be dreaming, because his voice is so soft, as if he’s talking to his precious beloved. That girl in the village. Not me, the empress he never wanted.

“I’ll have someone bring a concoction to get you sober,” he says.

He pushes himself off the bed. I grab his hand and won’t let go.

I don’t know why I do that. Perhaps the hole in my chest needs a person to tend to it, even if that someone doesn’t love me. Or perhaps the way he walks away reminds me of how men in my life had always turned on me. My father said he loved me, yet he threw me into a loveless marriage for the hope of winning his crown. Draven said he loved me, but he had his own motives from the very beginning.

“Ursila.” He sits on the edge of the bed and wipes something warm off my face. “I’m here. I’ll always be with you. I’m just going to tell someone to fetch a concoction.”

Liar. He won’t always be with me. Once he finds his village girl, he’ll dismiss me like he did his mistresses.

“I don’t want a concoction,” I say, pulling his hand to my face. I want love.

Heat rushes to my face. I’m not sure if it’s from the wine or my emotions.

Love. I ran away with Draven in my last life to find it, but the person I tossed away my future for didn’t return my love. The emperor in front of me is even less likely to love me back. Once he finds out about my father’s plans, he will behead my entire family, including me.

“Ursila, what’s wrong?” For the nth time today, he asks.

Everything. But I shake my head in reflex.

He smooths a loose strand of my hair behind my earlobe. The warmth in his eyes could melt an ice mountain. He kisses my cheek, wetting his lips with my tears.

The next time he lowers his head to kiss a teardrop, I turn so that his lips press on mine instead. Before he can react, I slip my tongue into his mouth, teasing and sucking him as if my life depends on it.

He freezes for one terrifying moment. When I think he’s going to push me away and cast me to the floor, he draws me against him.

His hot tongue chases mine and then everything becomes a haze. I don’t know when I wriggled out of the scandalous dress or when his clothes disappeared. All I know is the heat of his skin as it presses against mine and his calloused hands, which seem to be everywhere.

“Ursila, I love you,” he whispers into my ear as he pumps into me again and again.

That’s what men always say but few ever mean, but I’m too out of breath to call him out on his lie. A secret part of me wants to believe him. Maybe he did mean it. Maybe I’ve become more important than his village girl and he loves me despite everything. Within the fog caused by the wine, it’s easier to believe it.

Chapter 14

“Your Majesty,” an unfamiliar voice calls from outside my chamber. “It’s already past noon.”

I furrow my eyebrows without opening my eyes.

“Your Majesty, everyone is waiting for you at court. You’re hours late.”

I can hear the sound of his footsteps as he paces back and forth outside my door.

I bury my head into my pillow, trying to screen out the noise. My usual soft and downy pillow is hard and warm today.

“Your Majesty.”

Wait! Why is there a man outside my door? My male servants know better than to come anywhere near my chamber, especially when I’m sleeping. I run my hand across my pillow and my eyes spring open.

Ezra is sleeping on my bed. My silky black blanket covers him from the waist down but fails to hide everything else. I’m lying on his chest with my body all but plastered against his.

Heat courses through me. I should get up and throw something over myself before that guy outside decides to burst in, but I can’t move. I can’t shift my gaze away from the beautiful man below me.

He looks so handsome that I doubt there is another person in this world who could match his appearance. A smile lifts his lips as if he’s in the midst of the sweetest dream.

I kissed those lips last night. He used them to trace a trail all over me, licking and sucking until I melted into a puddle. My entire body feels sore, yet it begs to repeat the experience.

“Your Majesty!”

The pounding outside jolts me awake. The voice sounds like Gabryl. When did he reunite with Ezra?

“Shut up!” Reenan says outside. “You’re going to wake Their Majesties.”

“His Majesty is late for the morning court. Everyone is waiting for him.”

“So? He’s the emperor. People always wait for him.”

“But he was never late.”

“There’s always a first time. Now get away from Her Majesty’s room.”

Ezra’s eyelids twitch.

I sigh. For a person who doesn’t want to wake us up, Reenan sure is loud.

Ezra stirs, and my heart pumps a million beats a minute.

I’m not dressed. There is not a stitch of cloth on me, and I’m still lying on top of him with my hands on his chest. I have to jump up and dash across the room to hide in my wardrobe before he opens his eyes. There is no explanation that justifies my wanton behavior last night.

Too late.

I squeeze my eyes shut at the last minute, hoping he doesn’t know I’m awake. I can feel the heat of his gaze for a long moment while he caresses my face with his thumb.

“Do I really need to tell you what to do?” Reenan says outside. “Dismiss the courtiers, of course. Tell them His Majesty is ill and can’t appear at the morning court today.”

“That’s called faking His Majesty’s order,” Gabryl says.

“That’s called knowing your master’s wishes.”

My head hurts. I want to tell Reenan to be quiet, but I’m supposed to be asleep. Ezra can hear everything she’s saying, and I can’t tell what his reaction is. Faking an emperor’s orders is a severe crime punishable by death. I hope Ezra doesn’t take her seriously.

“But—”

“Gabryl,” Ezra cuts him off. “Tell the courtiers I overslept and I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

I smile at the relief in Gabryl’s voice.

“Are you awake, Ursila?” Ezra cups my face.

My smile freezes. Right. I’m supposed to be sleeping.

He runs his palm down the small of my back, setting off fire everywhere he touches.

For a moment, I forget about the courtiers waiting for their emperor to discuss important matters of state. He’s with me, and I don’t want him to go.

“I’ll wait for you in the throne room,” Gabryl says.

Ezra sighs into my neck and rolls me to my back. I feel the loss of his warmth right away.

There is a moment of shuffling as he throws on his clothes, and then he’s gone.

I hug the blanket close to my body. A thousand thoughts course through me, yet my mind is oddly blank.

“Your Majesty, drink this.” Eve walks in after Reenan, holding a bowl of hot liquid. “It’s a concoction to increase the chance of pregnancy.”

Right. The reason Eve is here is to ensure I give birth to an heir to the throne whom Father could control like a puppet.

I want to tell her I don’t want to drink it and I don’t want to be a part of Father’s plan, but when she brings the bowl to my lips, I sip the steaming liquid little by little until the bitter taste infiltrates my mouth.

What would it be like to have Ezra’s child? Would the baby be similar to his father—cold on the outside but won’t abandon a girl in distress? He’ll have Ezra’s emerald eyes and his looks. I try to imagine a smaller version of Ezra, and my heart melts.

I made mistakes in the past—many of them—and I might be making one right now. But even as my head tells me over and over again that true love doesn’t exist, I gulp down the nasty brown liquid until not a drop remains.

Once I finish the concoction, I motion for Reenan and Eve to leave me alone.

“Your Majesty, breakfast is ready,” Reenan says.

I shake my head. “I’m taking a nap.”

She pulls Eve out of the room. “Of course, Your Majesty. You must be tired from last night.”

The door closes behind them and I fall onto the bed sheets in a thump. My body is sore all over. It reminds me of all the ways Ezra made love to me. A silly smile spreads across my face, but a second later, the thought of what is going to happen wipes it off my lips.

Father plans to use me and my future child to control the throne. He won’t allow Ezra to live. If his plan succeeds, Ezra will die. If it doesn’t succeed, then the entire House of Ufran will be buried with him. Once Ezra gets rid of House of Ufran, he would be faced with the threat High Priest Rane foretold. Either way, Ezra will die.

Only I know what is going to happen, and only I have even the smallest possibility of stopping them. I close my eyes.

Think. There must be some way out of this mess.

Think. Goddess Avinia gave me a second chance at life. She believed I could make a difference. There must be something I could do to turn all this around.

I think so hard that my head pounds.

When Reenan comes back a while later to help me with my morning routine and serve my breakfast, I still don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do.

Then Ezra is here.

“Who?” I stare at Reenan like she just started talking in a different language.

“His Majesty is outside. Should I show him in? If Your Majesty doesn’t want to see him, I could tell him to go away.” She grins at me.

“What? No! Why would you do such a thing? He’s the emperor.” I smooth a hand down my hair. I didn’t pay attention when Reenan styled my hair. Are all the tangles straightened out and my locks neatly combed? The light green dress I have on right now isn’t my most flattering dress. I should’ve worn the dark violet one that brings out my hair.

“All right. I’ll tell him he can come in.” Reenan beams at me and turns to go.

“Wait.” I stand up from my seat. I’m not ready. I haven’t had time to come up with what to say to him yet. What if he asked me about my behavior last night? If I don’t have a valid explanation, he would think less of me.

Too late. Before I can hide in my dressing room, he’s here.

Sunlight pours down on his midnight blue tunic. He looks elegant and magnificent, so breathtaking that I wish I could be the one curling up in his arms instead of Ira.

My mouth dries. I clear my throat several times, but I still don’t know what to say.

“How are you feeling today?” His tone is neutral, but his eyes soften a notch when they fix on me. “Did I hurt you last night?”

A flush explodes on my cheeks. “No.”

“What is for breakfast?”

“Porridge, bread, fruits, and cakes.” I glance at the many small dishes on the table. “I can ask Reenan to bring more.” Although I only ate a little and plenty of food remains, they are leftovers. Emperors don’t eat leftovers.

He takes a seat at the table and grabs a chunk of bread. “There is no need.”

I’m glad he’s hungry. At least, for now, I don’t have to attempt a conversation. It gives me more time to think about what to say. And then, the fact that he came here for breakfast brings a smile to my lips. He must have headed over right after the court. He came to eat with me, not Quan or Tessa.

“Was there something bothering you yesterday?” He sets down his spoon and looks across the table at me.

No is on the tip of my tongue before I swallow it.

“You can tell me.” His gaze is so warm that I almost forget he’s the ice emperor who beheaded my entire family.

“What will happen to Issan and the soldiers from Yonte Kingdom?” I ask.

Ezra strokes Ira. “Treason to the crown is punishable by death.” His tone is light, as if he’s merely stating a fact and not declaring a death sentence.

“But he’s your half brother.” My heart tightens.

“He’s a threat.”

“Did you already behead him?” Lightning fast, like last life.

“I turned him over to the minister of justice. He’ll stand trial for his charges. If he’s found guilty, he will be punished with a befitting sentence.”

Minister of justice. Isn’t he Serene’s father?

“Is that what you do to everyone who commits treason?”

“Of course.”

A thought crosses my mind. “Then it’s the minister of justice who orders death sentences.”

“Yes.”

Then the person who ordered the beheading of my entire family could’ve been the minister of justice, not Ezra like I always thought. The people who commit crimes against the empire have to stand trial. If found guilty, Serene’s father passes sentences.

A laugh escapes my mouth. I don’t know why I feel relieved, but suddenly, a stone in my chest lifts. It didn’t make a difference in the scheme of things—no matter if Ezra was the one who ordered death sentences or not, he must’ve supported the decision—but it’s not him.

“Did I say something funny?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No.” I can’t help grinning.

“Were you worrying about Issan yesterday?” he asks. “I’ve already identified his supporters. All of them will be removed from their positions or demoted. Issan will no longer have another opportunity to do anything. You’re safe here.” Then in an almost-whisper, he says, “I’ll protect you.”

The last sentence is so low that I think I’ve imagined it. Warmth spreads through my body and quickens my heartbeat. I look into his eyes and can’t find my enemy.

“I thought you love your village girl.” I bite my lip. I don’t know why I keep bringing her up, but she’s like a thorn stuck deep in my chest.

“I’d looked for her everywhere, but when I turned around, she was right behind me.”

What does that mean?

“Ursila, do you remember—”

“Your Majesty.” Gabryl appears at the doorway. “The minister of justice wants an audience with you.”

Ezra knits his eyebrows. Then he sighs. “I’ll meet him in my study.”

“Do I remember what?” I ask Ezra.

“I’ll tell you another day. I’m sorry, Ursila. I have to go.”

He leaves, but the question eats a hole in my chest. I forget something important, very important.

I wait for Ezra to come back and tell me what I forget, but an earthquake had brought down many old houses in the capital and he has to take care of the victims.

A week later, I’m looking through the ministry of etiquette’s report on how best to handle the mistress situation when a manservant approaches me in the garden, carrying a tray of delicacies.

I don’t remember ordering these. If I did, it’s usually my maids who would bring them to me, not a nondescript servant I’d never seen before. But then, maybe Reenan told someone to bring refreshments without letting me know.

“Set them on the table.” I gesture at the half of the stone table not covered with the report.

The more I read, the more fury coils in my chest. This is supposed to be a report of how best to return the mistresses to their families without damaging their reputation, but every paragraph alludes to what a horrible idea it is to send away the mistresses.

Viscent Empire has a paucity of princes in the last few generations. Currently, there is no eligible heir to speak of and the empress is still not pregnant. The emperor needs to expand his harem and generate many offspring, not restrict it to please a single woman. It’s a crime to the state to leave no successor. If the empress can’t produce a son herself and dismiss the entire harem due to jealousy, then perhaps she is not the best woman for the position.

My fingers dig into the scroll, crumpling the paper. In a fit of rage, I slam the scroll on the table. I’m about to call for Reenan when I notice that the nondescript manservant is still there, holding onto the wooden tray long after he placed the dishes of cakes and a pot of tea on the table.

“You may go.” I take a breath to calm myself.

I expect him to leave, but he makes no move. “Are you going to drink the tea and eat the dessert?” he asks.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“They are best served hot,” he says.

I look at him, and my heart skips a beat. He returns my gaze head on. That is not how most servants would react. They’re trained to look down when talking to lords and ladies, especially the emperor and the empress. And in his eyes, I think I see resentment and hatred.

Crap. Where are my guards when I need them? Even Reenan is not here. I asked her to fetch me a cloak. The only person with me is the maid who is now standing behind me.

“You’re right,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “Those are my favorites, and I’ll eat them as soon as I return to my tower.”

The corner of his lips turns down. He reaches under the wooden tray in his hand to pull out something. I catch a glimpse of silver flashing under the afternoon sun.

What is the chance that I can take on a man with a weapon?

None.

“On second thought, I shall enjoy these now.” I grab the pot of tea and pour myself a cup. “Martha,” I say to the maid. “Why don’t you go tell Eve that the emperor will come tonight?”

Eve would get me back to the tower right away to prepare for Ezra’s arrival. Hopefully, she would come with guards and maids who can deal with this assassin.

“But Your Majesty, Reenan told me not to leave you by yourself,” Martha says.

“Trust me, if something is going to happen, you won’t make a difference.” Unless Martha suddenly acquires the strength and the skill of a seasoned soldier, she doesn’t stand a chance against the assassin.

She leaves, and I pretend to drink the tea, taking care that not a drop touches my lips.

“I’ve never seen you before. What is your name?” I ask. My body is as tense as a knot, but I force myself to act normal.

“Matt,” he grunts.

“Matt, what was your occupation before you came to the palace?” Sweat beads on my forehead. I don’t know how long I can detain him while Martha goes to get people.

“Does it really matter to you?”

“Of course.”

“I was a veteran.”

What grudge does a veteran have against me? “Thank you for your service to the empire, Matt.”

He sneers. “My house used to be at the south end of the capital. The late emperor approved funds several months ago to rebuild some of the oldest residences for veterans, but Jaycin Ufran pretended the approval never happened after the late emperor passed away.”

“I’m sure that’s a misunderstanding. I’ll talk to my father for you.” I stand.

“Sit!”

His tone annoys me to no end. Few had ever spoken to me this way. For a moment, I want to demand what exactly does he want from me, but that’s not a wise course of action, so I force myself to sit.

“A week ago, when the earth trembled, my house fell down, breaking my elderly mother’s legs.” He glares at me like I’m the cause of all his problems.

“I’m sorry. If there is anything I can do—”

“Jaycin Ufran didn’t repair my house, but you were the one who brought the wrath of the gods upon us.” He points at my nose.

“Me?” I blink.

“You enchanted His Majesty and wrapped him around your fingers. You dismissed all his mistresses out of jealousy even though you’re barren yourself. The gods are angry. Hundreds of people became victims for what you did. If you continue to be our empress, all of us have to deal with the gods’ fury, and Viscent Empire will cease to exist.”

I stare at him to see if he’s joking. He’s not. His nostrils flare as he glares at me like I’m some kind of witch who had corrupted his emperor and the entire empire. I want to tell him the earthquake happened in my last life too. I should have remembered that. I should have warned people to relocate from their homes, but there was too much on my mind. That doesn’t mean I caused the earthquake.

“I’m sorry.” I look him in the eye and apologize, not for the things he accused me of but for my faulty memory. Earthquakes and natural disasters were not on my mind the last few days. I’d never thought I could use my knowledge of the future to reduce casualties.

He stares at me with a blank expression as if not expecting me to apologize.

“Ezra is working on rebuilding the houses that were destroyed. I can send my best healers to look at your mother’s legs.” When the animosity on his face diminishes a little, I ask, “Now tell me, who brought you here?”

A common veteran, no matter how resourceful he is, can’t possibly walk in the palace and seek out the empress. I have my share of assassination attempts, but none of them was initiated by a single person. There is someone helping him. I’m sure of it. That someone is my real enemy, not him.

“Who helped you?” I lean closer to him.

“Lies. Everything you said is a lie!” He pulls the dagger hidden underneath the tray, letting the tray smash to the ground and break into pieces. “You only want to extract information from me.”

“I’m merely—”

And then the point of the dagger is near my throat, much too close for comfort. I stop myself from backing off because I know I’m not faster than him and I will only agitate him.

“Matt, listen. We can work this out.” My heart beats a million times a minute and a monster of a headache is threatening to erupt, but I try my best to appear calm. “Put the dagger down. We can talk.”

Where is Eve? Did Martha relay my message yet? Why are they so slow?

“And let you hypnotize me like you did the emperor?” The dagger jolts a little closer with every word. “You witch! Viscent Empire would be better without you.”

Time. I need time. Even if Martha and Eve don’t come, we are in the garden just outside my tower. Someone is bound to notice if I can just have some time.

“Matt, I’m a normal woman. I can’t cause an earthquake. I can’t use magic. And I certainly didn’t hypnotize the emperor,” I say with my most soothing voice. “I know a healer. He’s the best I’ve ever seen. If you want, I can introduce him to your mother.”

Draven probably won’t ever talk to me again, much less allow me to introduce him to anyone, but the assassin doesn’t need to know that.

The dagger point lowers a little, and I take in a much-needed breath.

“Think about it. This turn of fortune might be good for you,” I continue.

“The earthquake is good for me?” He looks at me like I’m a lunatic.

“Look at it this way.” I rummage my brain for a response. “Your house was old, correct? Ezra is going to ask someone to build new homes to replace those that collapsed during the earthquake. You’ll get an empire-funded house. Your mother is old, right? Does she have other health problems besides her legs?”

“She sometimes has chest pain,” he responds.

“That’s a serious condition.” I know a thing or two about health problems and herbs from the time I crammed several medical books into my brain so that I would have more topics to talk about with Draven. “She could die from that. In fact, she’s lucky she’s still alive. The healer I know can take care of that plus her leg.”

The dagger lowers from my throat. “But I would be thrown into the dungeon or executed for trying to assassinate the empress. I would never see her again.”

“You didn’t injure me yet. There is no harm done. Drop your weapon before someone comes. I can pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I’ve already made a promise. She said if I kill you, she will give me enough chips to build ten houses and hire the best healers for my mother.”

I narrow my eyes. “Who is she? Tell me, what is her name?”

As if jolted from a reverie, his eyes refocus. “You almost got me, you witch!” And then he plunges the dagger forward.

I stumble back and back, but that’s not enough. The glittering point darts for my chest, piercing through my gown. My heart stops. The dagger is about to thrust into my body when a bare hand grabs onto the blade, stopping it just in time.

“Your Majesty!” Gabryl cries out from behind.

I have eyes only for the face in front of me—Ezra’s handsome face twists in pain as the blade sinks into his hand.

Blood drips onto the ground and my dress. He grabs the dagger so tightly that it hurts to look at him.

Someone crushes Matt’s hand and the dagger clatters to the ground. My lips tremble. For some reason, the pain in my chest is worse than it would feel if the assassin had plunged the blade in.

“Are you all right?” Ezra cups my face. Blood must have smeared onto it because he tries to wipe my cheek.

In the corner of my eye, Gabryl wrestles Matt to the ground, but instead of watching the fight, I stare at Ezra’s hand.

An overwhelming emotion hits me right then. My vision waters and no matter how many deep breaths I take, the urge to cry won’t go away.

“You’re the stupidest emperor in the entire Viscent Empire history.” I fumble for the handkerchief hanging down my belt. Blood colors the white handkerchief as soon as I cover his wound with it. “What were you thinking?” If the dagger sank just a little more into his fingers, he wouldn’t get to keep his fingers.

“I didn’t think.” His voice is so low that I barely hear him.

Healers. “Go get all the royal healers. Right now!” I scream to a maid who is passing by.

Then a lot of people come, and the palace buzzes in a flurry of action. Ezra orders the assassin to be tossed into the dungeon for questioning.

Healers come and wrap layers of cloth on Ezra’s hand. Many courtiers also arrive at the scene. Their gazes are far from pleasant when they look at me.

I have zero time to find out what I did to anger them. Holding onto Ezra just in case he gets dizzy spells from the blood loss, I walk him to my tower.

“His Majesty needs rest.” I turn around just before I enter my tower. “Gabryl, find out who sent the assassin. At least one healer has to stay with His Majesty. Everyone else is dismissed.”

I don’t wait for them to respond. I don’t want to give the courtiers a chance to refute my order. I’m not exactly popular with them ever since the day they waited several hours for Ezra to climb from my bed and show up at the morning court.

I enter my tower, and Reenan makes sure I’m not bothered.

“How are you feeling?” I help Ezra onto my bed.

“All right.”

He looks far from all right. His lips are a little pale, and so is his face.

I ask Eve to fetch some soup from the royal kitchen. By the time I turn around, his eyes are closed.

“Ezra?” I call in a soft voice.

He doesn’t reply, so I sink down to the floor beside the bed and watch him the entire night.

* * *

A heaviness on my shoulders jolts me awake. It’s Ezra draping a cloak on me.

“I have to go,” he says.

“Where?” I must look confused.

“The morning court.”

I blink. “But you’re injured. You can’t do anything without your right hand.

“I have to be there.”

For a moment, I want to argue that surely even the emperor can take a sick day. I keep my mouth shut. I’ve been unpopular among the courtiers already. If they knew I tried to persuade Ezra from attending court, they’d be all over me.

“Don’t push yourself,” I finally say. “If you feel unwell, come back.”

He smiles at me, and I swear the entire room brightens considerably. For the life of me, I can’t look away. He rarely smiles. When he does, he’s so handsome that my heart stops.

He kisses me goodbye on the forehead and takes off for the court.

I stand up from the bed and stare after him until Ira nuzzles my leg.

Startled, I jump back, putting as much distance between the fox and me as possible. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. When did it sneak into my room? And why does it always look at me with those watery eyes?

“Reenan,” I call out.

“Yes?” She opens the door and steps inside. “Are you ready for breakfast, Your Majesty?”

No, I just want her to take the fox out of my tower and make sure it never comes back, but Ira is Ezra’s pet. He loves it more than anything. “Please take Ira out for a walk,” I say.

“Who?”

“Ira.” I gesture at the white fox, which is creeping dangerously close to my feet again.

Reenan looks at me as if I turned into a different person overnight. She doesn’t say anything else, for which I’m relieved.

I intend to visit Matt in the dungeon to ask him who helped him, but Eve comes back to say my request is denied. The minister of justice forbids anyone to contact Matt.

Well, that just means I have to wait for Ezra. Surely, no one will stop the emperor from going anywhere, even if it’s the dungeon.

Reenan comes back much later than I expected. For the three hours she’s gone, she must have walked the fox all around the palace. The stroll obviously didn’t agree with her because she looks like someone poured laundry water on her face.

“Your Majesty, this is insufferable!” Reenan charges into my room with Ira behind her.

“Walking the fox?” It is a little out of place for the head of my maids to walk an animal, but then, Ira is the emperor’s pet. That ought to count for something.

“I was half hidden from view when I heard servants talk about you.”

“Everyone talks about me.” Gossip comes hand in hand with the title.

“They said you’re a witch or an enchantress. You cast a spell on His Majesty. That’s why he dismissed all the mistresses for you and placed himself in danger to save you.”

So Matt is not the only person who believes that.

She purses her lips. “The serving staff said several courtiers have already suggested to replace you with a more suitable empress.”

“Replace me?” Now she got my attention. “With whom?” They can’t replace me. What gives them the right to swap empresses? A month ago, if someone said I didn’t have to be the empress anymore and I was free to go home, I would be thrilled, but now a dead weight settles in the pit of my stomach. I can’t breathe. I can’t even move. If I’m not the empress, I won’t get to see Ezra again.

“This is serious, Your Majesty.” Reenan balls her hands into fists. “If they’re successful, your life would be ruined. We must go visit His Grace right away and get to the bottom of this.”

“Go prepare a gift for my parents.”

“Your Majesty, this is not a joking matter. Courtiers have influence over the emperor’s harem. If enough people complain to the emperor about you, His Majesty might cave into pressure. You have to—”

“Reenan! I’m going to see my father right now.”

She blinks as if she can’t believe I’m agreeing to her plan without more convincing. Then she scurries off to prepare for a visit.

I stand there in the middle of the room. Ira nuzzles my legs, but I no longer have the strength to step away.

My whole world seems to collapse on me. Courtiers and nobles don’t like me. They’re trying to get me denounced. After I’m no longer the empress, they’ll choose another girl to sit beside Ezra. If they do, Father’s original plan will probably fail. Everything is good except for the little fact that my heart hurts more than my head right now.

That pair of emerald eyes. The man who grabbed a dagger with his bare hand to save me. Will I never get to see him again?

Reenan leads me into a golden carriage and helps me inside. My mind is only half there the entire way to House of Ufran.

My mother is waiting for me when I arrive. Eve or Reenan must’ve sent a message of my intention to visit. Mother throws her arms around me, and I sink into her softness.

“My poor girl.” She cups my cheeks. “Come in.”

She takes me to her suite, a large, tastefully designed, no-expense-spared set of rooms. Yet the suite looks oddly empty. Everything is too orderly and in place, as if the only ones who live here are my mother and her maids, and my father hadn’t stepped foot into those rooms in a long time.

“Where is Father?” I ask.

“He’s not back yet.” She pours tea into a white porcelain cup and pushes the cup to my end of the table.

I wrap my fingers around the porcelain to seek the warmth of the tea. “I thought the morning court was over.”

Ezra said morning courts usually don’t last more than three hours. He might still have a hundred scrolls to read and a bunch of courtier suggestions to approve or deny, but the nobles and courtiers shouldn’t have to stay over unless there is something important to discuss.

Like the dethronement of an empress.

A lump forms in my throat. I want to tell my mother everything, but the bright smile on her weathered face makes me hesitate. Her hair has grayed a bit more, and I spot a few lines near her eyes that weren’t there before.

I can tell she doesn’t know anything. She would be bombarding me with questions if she knew. Perhaps, in a few days, the gossip would spread to her ears, but now, she’s blissfully unaware of my current situation.

There is no reason I should share my worry with her, so instead of telling her of my possible dethronement, I tell her how beautiful the blossoms are in Ezra’s garden and how his pet fox loves to wander into my room. I chatter on and on about nothing important until tears wet her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. Did I accidentally spill something I’ve already decided not to say?

She dabs the wetness from her eyes and shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m just so happy.”

“So happy that you cried?”

She smiles. “I thought I made a mistake caving into pressure. I shouldn’t have allowed your father to marry you to the emperor. Few emperors in history have only one woman, but my little Ursila is special. You found someone who loves you, only you.”

Did I?

Love. The thing I had searched for in my last life but had never gotten. Does Ezra love me? I’m not sure, and I might never get to find out.

“Silly girl.” She strokes my head. “Are you like me? So happy that you cried?” She stands up and pulls me into her bosom. “Tell me about him.”

He was a jerk in the beginning. He looked at me without seeing me. He got angry at me for trying to save him, but he defended me in front of the entire court from Iender. When we were running for our lives, he never let go of my hand. And yesterday, he risked losing his fingers to save me.

I have a lot to say, but I clamp my mouth shut. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to control the emotions.

After a long while, when I finally trust myself to speak, I say, “I’m going to find Ian.” Even if Father is not back, surely Ian must be back by now.

Disappointment shadows her face. She lets go of me with reluctance. “Come here if you can’t find him.”

“Of course.”

I take a last look at her before I hurry out of her room as if a demon is hot on my trail.

“Stay here. Don’t follow me, and don’t tell my mother anything,” I say to Reenan and Eve.

It’s spring. The road to Ian’s suite is semi-obstructed by an overgrowth of flowers and branches. The pond on the way there is a tranquil green with a few ducks swimming across. Completely opposite of what I feel inside.

Ian’s rooms are right next to father’s residence in a one-story structure to the side. I spot him walking toward his suite even before I get there.

“Ian!” I flag him down, gathering my gown so I can hurry to him.

He’s wearing a fitted black tunic with a satin cloak trailing behind him. The slight frown on his face melts into a tiny smile when he sees me.

“I wasn’t aware you were coming home today,” he says.

Only he doesn’t address me as Your Majesty all the time as if I’m still his sister and nothing changed between us. Perhaps I’m a little relieved Father is not home. It’s easier to talk to Ian than Father. “I just decided to pay a visit.”

“Come.” He guides me into his suite.

His rooms are mostly black and white. Black walls and floor, white tables and chairs, and white sheets spreading over an ebony bed.

I take a seat on a hard wooden chair devoid of plush. I’d meant to offer to redesign his rooms in the past—the rooms seem too severe—but the thought had slipped from my mind before and is not my priority right now.

“What brings you here, Ursila?” He doesn’t pour tea or offer dessert like every other host would. There is not even a tea set on his table, and no servants are in sight to bring it for him.

“Did you just come back from the morning court?” I ask.

He hesitates for a second. “Yes.”

“Is Father back yet?”

“No.”

I sigh. Getting him to talk might be harder than I thought. “I heard some rumors about me.”

“Rumors are just rumors. You never cared about them before.”

That’s not entirely true. I’ve cared about them. I just didn’t show it.

“What is this I heard about dethronement?” I cut to the chase and get straight to the point.

“It’s just a bunch of old farts talking gibberish. Nothing will come out of it.”

He looks so confident as if the rumors that have been tormenting me for the last few hours are just baseless talks.

I knit my eyebrows. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Why are they targeting me?” This time around, I didn’t run away with Draven or do anything similarly disgraceful.

“Because your last name is Ufran,” he tells me. “There are a lot of people in court who are envious of our position and would love to replace us.”

“But I—”

“Ursila,” he cuts me off. “You have to understand that they won’t succeed. House of Ufran didn’t get where we are today without foundation. We have our private soldiers and troops in the thousands. His Grace and I will take care of the dissenters. You have nothing to worry about.”

His assurance doesn’t relieve my anxiety in the least. House of Ufran might be the most powerful house in Viscent Empire, but Ezra managed to pull it down in my last life. Our house is not as stable as Ian believes.

Perhaps I shouldn’t be here, asking for reassurance from Ian on my position as the empress. What I am or am not doesn’t matter in the least in the face of the ultimate danger to the empire. Ezra needs my help against the threat the high priest hinted at, and I need Ezra’s pardon for all the crimes Father was involved in. As long as I can accomplish that, it doesn’t matter if I’ll still be the empress.

It doesn’t!

“Where are our soldiers?” I ask. “I thought it’s illegal to have personal troops without permission.” But then, Father wouldn’t care about breaking the law. He has already broken several. What is one more? “If one of them came out and accused Father, he’d be in trouble.”

“That’s why they’re undercover, hidden in the capital as normal peasants. When the time comes, Father will use a token to summon them and no one would dare to challenge House of Ufran.”

Is that what Father and Ian did in my last life to deserve the death sentences?

“What is the token?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“You don’t trust me?” Neither Father nor Ian trusted me enough to tell me anything. I’m their daughter and sister, but I’d been in the dark my entire life. Until death, I still thought the emperor had wronged my family.

Ian softens his voice. “The token is the onyx ring Father always wears. Ursila, just know that House of Ufran will be behind you. The courtiers can talk all they want, but no one is going to replace you. Not now. Not ever.”

I come out of his suite more worried than before. I don’t have the heart to pretend everything is fine, so I don’t go back to my mother’s rooms. Someone fetches Reenan and Eve for me, and I’m off for the palace before the hour is over.

The road shouldn’t be rougher than a few hours ago, yet I feel every bump along the way. The moment I step into my tower, I retch up everything in my stomach onto the wooden floor.

“Your Majesty!” Reenan wraps her arms around me to support me. “How are you feeling?”

Horrible.

My usual headache is now accompanied by a dizzy spell. The whole room wobbles under my feet, and the urge to vomit doesn’t completely disappear.

“Martha, go get a healer.” Reenan flags down a maid.

“No.” My voice comes out weaker than I expected. “There is no need. I’m just unwell from the ride. I’ll feel better after a nap.”

I can’t hear what Reenan says after that because I fall onto my bed and everything blacks out.

Chapter 15

“What did the healers say?”

Ezra asks someone in a low voice.

“We didn’t send for a healer,” Reenan replies. “Her Majesty doesn’t want to see one.”

The bed groans as someone takes a seat beside me. “How long did she sleep?” Ezra asks.

“Since we came back yesterday afternoon.”

“Where did she go?” Ezra’s warm hand smooths down my hair.

“To House of Ufran.”

“For?”

“Ask yourself. Her Majesty was worried you’re going to replace her with another girl. Will you?”

I wince at Reenan’s sharp tone. But even as I make a mental note to tell her not to speak that way to an emperor, I hold my breath for Ezra’s answer.

It seems like forever passes before Ezra says, “No.”

He doesn’t elaborate, but this single word relieves my worry. It’s strong, like a promise. He won’t replace me with anyone, no matter what.

“But I heard the rumors.”

“Rumors can’t make decisions for me.”

I can just see the satisfied smile spreading across Reenan’s lips. “That’s what I thought.”

Footsteps disappear beyond the doors, and I know Reenan has left.

“You could’ve just asked me.” Ezra brushes a strand of hair from my forehead.

I open my eyes, knowing he already found out I’m awake. “I wasn’t sure of your response. You have no qualms with dismissing all of your mistresses with a single order.”

His face fills my vision. He bends his head so he’s looking directly into my eyes. “You are different.”

“Because I’m the empress and harder to get rid of?” In my last life, he only got rid of me after my family was found guilty of treason and I ran away with his royal healer.

“Because you are you.” His voice is so low that I barely hear him.

What does that mean? I have no idea, but it doesn’t prevent a blush from creeping to my cheeks. Then the thought of what is going to happen wipes all traces of a smile off my lips. He might be kind to me now, but what will his reaction be after he has to face my father’s private army?

My throat dries. I’ve thought about this again and again, trying to envision what would happen, what Father would do, and how Ezra would respond. I don’t want Ezra to behead anyone in my family, but at the same time, Father can’t make my future child a puppet. The more I think about it, the more my stomach turns.

Under the blanket, my hand seeks out my abdomen. I’ve missed my period already, and Eve told me enough about symptoms of pregnancy for me to know I’m probably pregnant. That’s why I didn’t want Reenan to fetch a healer before I passed out. If Eve knows, Father will know. If Father knows, he’ll carry out his plan.

There is no time to waste. I must make a gamble.

I push myself up on the bed. Ezra props a pillow behind my back.

I clench my hands into fists. Finally, I take a deep breath and look up at him. “If—I said if—there is a powerful noble who plots against your throne, would you ever forgive him?”

“It depends on what he did.”

Light shines down on his face. I can see every perfectly sculptured line, yet I can’t read his expression.

I wet my dry lips. “Suppose not all of his family support his plans. His daughter wants to help you. Remember what the high priest said in the goddess’s temple?”

I’m not making much sense. I try to stay on track, but I can’t seem to focus. The softness in his eyes is gone, and I can’t tell the turn of his mood. If he takes my words as testimony, then I just pushed House of Ufran over a cliff myself.

He still doesn’t say anything, so I clear my throat. “The high priest said killing the enemy you thought is responsible for all of your problems will bring about even more unrest. Someone else is your true enemy, someone other than the obvious. If you spend too much resource and men in uprooting the apparent enemy, your true enemy will become stronger. You will be the last emperor of Viscent Empire.”

“What are you saying?”

“The daughter can help you. If she makes sure her father’s plans fail, will you pardon her entire family?” A lump forms in my throat. By this time, I know he knows I’m talking about House of Ufran and myself. I sit there, staring at his face, taking in his frown and the creases between his eyebrows.

“A pardon for treason against the crown?”

The notion sounds ridiculous out loud.

I grab his arm with both hands. “You can take away his title, property, and riches. You can demote him to a commoner or force him to retire. As long as he and his house won’t die.”

Father isn’t the person I thought he was. He might love me, but he loves power more. Perhaps, at one time, I was angry enough to stand aside and let fate unfold, but my mother is innocent. Ian has never wronged me. Sometimes I want to throttle Francisca, but life would lose a little of its color without her. They can’t all die because their last name is Ufran.

At long last, he asks, “How is she going to help me?”

“You agree, then?”

He holds my gaze for a long time before he looks away. “I suppose preventing the end of Viscent Empire is enough to atone for mistaken judgments.”

I let out a laugh.

“But Ursila,” he continues. “I can’t keep your father in court, and I have to ensure he won’t have any resources to carry out similar plans.”

Shame lowers my head when he bursts the bubble of my story of an unknown noble and his daughter. At the same time, relief sweeps through me. I have Ezra’s support. As long as I do my part, I can prevent the tragedy of my last life.

The only problem is, carrying out my part seems like an impossible job in and of itself. And Ezra’s true enemy … I have no idea who he is.

Then I think of something. “Ezra, what happened to that assassin? Did he confess who was helping him?”

“He died in the dungeon.”

“You killed him?”

“No. He hanged himself.”

“That’s impossible!” Even if the dungeon has a beam and the assassin managed to get a rope to hang himself, he would never do that. He still has an elderly mother who depends on him.

Someone murdered him and made it look like he committed suicide. It’s the same person who helped him. I’m sure of it.

I jump up from the bed and pace back and forth. A chill courses down my spine.

“Who had access to him when he was in the dungeon?” I spin around and pin Ezra down with my gaze. Even I, the empress, wasn’t allowed to visit the assassin.

Ezra furrows his eyebrows. “I passed specific instructions that no one was allowed to visit him. Unless …”

Unless it’s one of the guards or the people who were ordered to question him.

The only reason a captured assassin could be a threat to anyone is if that someone was the person who helped the assassin. Despite the warmth of the day, I shiver.

Ezra stands and pats my back with his uninjured hand. “I already ordered the minister of justice to get to the bottom of this. No one will get away with attempting to assassinate my empress.”

And then the coldness dissipates, and suddenly it’s too hot. My empress. He said that as if my title is not temporary and he wouldn’t assign it to his village girl the moment she appears.

“How is your hand and back?” I stare at the layers of white cloth wrapped around his hand.

“They’re fine.”

“Do they still hurt?”

“No.”

“Why did you do that?” I ask the question that has eaten a hole through my heart.

He tilts his head.

If he didn’t rush to save me, he wouldn’t have gotten injured. Twice.

True love doesn’t exist. If it does, his true love is the village girl he has never forgotten. But at this time and place, when I look into his emerald eyes, I have the strange notion that perhaps I’m wrong. If I ever make him pardon House of Ufran, I’ll push for his answer. If he tells me he loves me, I’ll trust him and allow myself to believe in love, one more time.

He sits beside me for a while before he leaves to attend a meeting. I lie back down on my bed and close my eyes, except that this time around, I can’t sleep.

I have to find out who is Ezra’s true enemy, the one who would make him the last emperor of Viscent Empire, before my father takes a drastic step that signs my entire family’s death sentence.

Who could be more of a threat to Ezra than my father? Who would have the opportunity to kill Matt and make it look like a suicide?

Who hates me in this palace?

Every one of Ezra’s mistresses and most of the self-righteous nobles.

Zeia. Rutun. They don’t have the authority or connection to visit the dungeon. The nobles in court. They’re forbidden to go near my tower without permission.

Serene …

I grab the edge of my blanket. Serene has the means to sneak someone into the palace and procure poisoned tea and desserts. Her father is the minister of justice who is in charge of the dungeon. The same minister who denied my request to visit Matt.

Serene—the girl who hated me enough to kill me in my last life, although she was the one who betrayed me, not the other way around. Till this day, I can still hear the ringing of the bells around her horse’s neck and feel the shock of pain when the hooves crushed me to the ground.

Serene!

I yank my sheets off the bed and let them flutter down. My eyes fly open.

“Reenan,” I cry.

My doors open and Reenan strolls in. She stops a couple feet from my bed and curtsies. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

I rise from the bed and walk past her. “Time to pay my good friend a visit.”

No matter if she knows which friend I’m talking about, she follows me out of my tower.

I charge straight to the large tower on the west side of the palace. It’s rumored that Consort Tower contains over a hundred suites to house the past emperors’ many mistresses. I don’t know if the ten-story tower has that many suites. The last few times I was here, I was paying a visit to Serene the day before I eloped with Draven. She looked at me with a mixture of emotions I didn’t understand then and don’t fully understand even now. If she loved Draven and knew about our plan to elope, shouldn’t she be preventing us from succeeding, even if Draven was only doing this out of revenge? If I were her, I wouldn’t let my lover spend a single hour alone with another woman.

No matter. I push open the arched double doors standing several feet higher than me. The two sentinels on either side of the door fall to their knees as I storm in.

Zeia and Rutun are walking arm in arm down the white stone hallway. They stop dead in their track when they see me. I would marvel at their sudden friendliness toward each other if I didn’t have a score to settle with Serene. Perhaps, the saying about an enemy’s enemy is a friend is true after all. Thanks to me, Zeia and Rutun are not at each other’s throat every second.

“Your Majesty, what brings you here? The last time His Majesty’s people were here, they announced his dismissal of all mistresses. What is it now?” Rutun tilts her chin. “Did His Majesty change his mind and decide he wants our lives instead?”

I blink at her. “Why would he do that?”

“To pacify your jealousy, of course.” Rutun tosses her golden hair back. “Everyone in Viscent Empire knows that the current empress can’t tolerate another woman in the palace. No wonder someone would unleash an assassin after you. If I were you, I would—”

“You’re right,” I cut her off.

“What?”

I stand to my full height and look down at her. “I can’t tolerate sharing Ezra with anyone. He’s mine.”

Her mouth falls open. She looks at me flabbergasted. I’m not the first empress who wants the emperor to herself, but I might be the first one to admit it openly.

She’s still staring at me with wide eyes when I walk past her to Serene’s suite.

Her rooms are on the top floor, just in front of the long winding stairs. I’ve been here before in my last life. Every time I came, I arrived panting for breath. I’d asked her why she chose a suite at the tenth floor. She told me the top floor is reserved for the highest-born mistresses. Her father is the minister of justice. It’s only suitable for her to occupy the top floor. Why would the minister of justice send his only daughter to the palace as one among many of the emperor’s mistresses? She only smiled and never gave me an answer.

The red rectangular door opens, sparing me the need to knock on it. A petite maid with freckles all over her nose and cheeks bumps into me. She stumbles and falls onto the floor in a clatter of cups.

“Watch it!” Reenan says, stepping in front of me. “You almost pushed over Her Majesty.”

The freckled girl shoots one glance at me and drops to her knees. “Your Majesty. Forgive me. I-I—”

“Who is there?” Serene calls from within.

In the short period of time that Serene moved here, her suite has been designed to her liking. The redwood furniture is simple but elegant, sparse but tasteful. Here and there, silk screens and translucent curtains section off parts of the rooms.

The freckled girl is about to reply when long fingers part a purple curtain and Serene saunters toward me. She blinks at seeing me. A second later, she dips into a curtsy.

“Your Majesty, forgive me for not coming out to greet you sooner. May, why didn’t you tell me Her Majesty is here?” She turns to freckled girl.

“My Lady, I didn’t know—”

“The palace is not like the countryside. Everything has its own set of rules and etiquette,” Serene cuts the girl off. “Even an empress visiting a mistress must first present a visit card or notify the mistress ahead of time. You must have forgotten to tell me.”

I feel like she just slapped my face. She’s scolding her maid, but she’s really chiding me for not following the etiquette I was supposed to uphold as the empress. I do remember there is such a rule, but to follow the rule strictly or not is based entirely on the two people in question. When we were friends in our last life, she’d never asked for visit cards or advanced notifications.

“But My Lady, I didn’t. Her Majesty came here unannounced.”

“Are you saying Her Majesty doesn’t know the most common etiquette?” Her soft voice turns cold.

“It’s not her fault.” I step over the threshold and walk in. “I didn’t present a visit card or send any notification. Is that a problem?”

“Of course not. You’re the empress. You can do whatever you want,” Serene says, following me inside.

Nothing about her words or behavior is out of place, yet I know she’s upset. If she’s her usual self, she wouldn’t say any of the things she just said. She would make me feel she’s on my side and she’ll be forever loyal to me. Draven’s rejection must sting, and I have a feeling she blames me for it.

Well, she’s not the only one who is upset.

I stroll down the white-furred rug and sink onto the floor in front of a low table. My gaze scans the room for any abnormality or clues. “Reenan, why don’t you wait for me outside? I have something to talk to Serene about.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Reenan dips into a curtsy. When she raises, she glares at Serene as if giving her a warning. If something happens to me here, she won’t let her off the hook.

If Serene is affected by Reenan’s glare, she doesn’t show a thing on her face. “May, go bring a pot of tea.”

Both of them leave. May comes back with a green porcelain tea set. Serene waves her fingers, and May exits the room, closing the door behind her.

Serene sits on her legs across the small table from me. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Your Majesty?” She pours a cup of steaming tea into a tiny cup and pushes the cup to my end of the table.

I pick up the cup and swirl the tea within. “I’m here to ask you about the assassin.”

Her expression turns stiff for a short second. Then she smiles. “What assassin?”

I inhale the steam. The tea smells sweet and delicious, just like the poisoned one the assassin served me. “Matt, the assassin who injured Ezra’s hand.”

“Yes, I heard of it.” She wraps her hands around her cup. “What about him?”

“Your father was in charge of him in the dungeon. Matt just hanged himself in the cell.”

“How unfortunate.”

“Very unfortunate. Now it will be harder to find out who helped him.” I lean one elbow on the table and continue to swirl the tea in the cup, around and around.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Actually, you can. The assassin served the same type of tea as the one you’re serving now. You can start by telling me about this tea.”

She sets her cup down and covers her smiles with a round silk fan. “That’s just rooibos tea. You can buy it in most teashops. Even here in the palace, all mistresses receive a ration of this.”

I pick up a tiny round cake on the tray next to the tea. Instead of eating it, I turn it in my hand. “How about this dessert?” It looks awfully like the ones Matt served me.

“The kitchen staff made it for everyone in Consort Tower. Is there a problem, Your Majesty?” She’s still smiling, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

“No.” I set the dessert down. “I actually came to thank you for your protection of the emperor in Wayne’s residence.”

“No need to do that. I am, after all, His Majesty’s mistress.”

“Do you blame me for your dismissal?”

“Of course not.”

“Right. As the only daughter of the minister of justice, I bet all the eligible bachelors would rush to your house to seek your favor. Your father made a mistake in sending you into the palace.”

I was hoping she could tell me why her father sent her here. Zeia and Rutun are not the only daughters, so their fathers can afford to take a gamble in sending their daughters to the palace, but Serene is the minister of justice’s only daughter.

Serene smiles. I ask her a few more questions, and she gives me answers that don’t enlighten me in the least.

Finally, I stand up to go. She curtsies as I walk past her to the door. The moment I step outside, the smile on my lips fades.

Everyone in Consort Tower has access to the tea and dessert, but the tray Matt carried is made of the same type of redwood as the one May held. The palace doesn’t ration mistresses with this type of wooden trays. I’m sure of it.

Serene was the one who let Matt in the palace. She’s also the one who asked for his death.

“Your Majesty, are we returning to your tower?” Reenan rushes to keep up with my brisk pace.

“No. We’re going to the palace dossier.”

I practically fly down the flights of stairs. I could run to Ezra and tell him everything I discovered, but a tray can’t condemn Serene, nor can the tea and dessert that everyone has.

In my last life, I thought Serene was my friend until the very end, so I never suspected her. But the longer I was in her company, the more questions rose in my mind, questions that probably no one had. Instead of pushing for answers, I allowed her to dismiss them with a few ambiguous replies.

“Your Majesty.” The sentinels outside the palace dossier bow.

The dossier is a large three-story building filled with rows and rows of tall shelves. On the shelves are books and scrolls, recording all kinds of history ranging from matters of court to genealogy of nobles and courtiers.

“I need to see all records of the current minister of justice and his daughter,” I tell one of the dossier keepers.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

I wait at a table for him to retrieve the records.

When I’d looked at Serene at certain angles, sometimes I thought I’d seen specks of gold in her brown pupil, which I’ve never seen in anyone else. Her frame is taller than the average female and her nose is straighter than typical. There was one time I caught her reading what seemed like crooked lines that only appeared when she placed the paper over flame.

My hands shake a little as I take the book from the keeper and leaf through the pages. The book is a record of family history for the people who passed the civil examination twenty years ago and have received a position in court or government.

The pages threaten to crumple as I turn. The dossier keeper doesn’t leave. He’s staring at my hand and winces every time I introduce a small tear.

“Your Majesty, most records in the dossier don’t have copies,” the keeper says.

“I know,” I reply. “I’m being as careful as I can.” It’s not like I want to tear the pages. They crack all by themselves, and the ink on the book is as blurred as a watercolor painting.

There! I found Tryant Rustin’s name. I hold my finger at the start of his record and read word by word everything about him.

To my disappointment, there is only one paragraph. Tryant Rustin was an unknown scholar from a remote village who happened to outperform everyone on the civil exam.

I turn the page to make sure there is nothing more about him. “Where are the rest of the records?”

“That’s everything, Your Majesty,” the keeper says.

“Everyone else has at least one page. How is it that the current minister of justice has only one paragraph?”

The keeper scratches his head. “Maybe there is nothing to tell about him.”

Everyone else has detailed information like the place of birth and names of parents and ancestors. He means to tell me the minister of justice burst out of a stone, so he doesn’t have records of his family genealogy?

I make him go find more information of anything related to Tryant Rustin. He comes back with many volumes of books on the policies and decrees Tryant Rustin supported and the cases he ruled over. The stack of over twenty books is overwhelming. My head hurts after getting through the first page of a decree Tryant Rustin was trying to pass on cutting funds to the soldiers guarding our border because there are more important things those funds could go toward.

The cases he’d ruled over were resolved in a just manner most of the times, with evidence and testimonials supporting his decisions. The most recent case is recorded at the end of a book in ink that barely dried. He just ordered a death sentence for the former crown prince Issan Viscent to be executed … today!

I blink as I read the date. I would think that a former prince’s execution deserves more fanfare. At the very least, I should know about it without having to dig through books in the palace dossier. There is no doubt Issan committed treason and the death sentence is just, but the execution is too fast, too quiet, just like the way my entire family was sentenced.

I lean back in my seat, staring at the volumes without seeing any of them. If time fast-forwarded one year and I failed to prevent the same disaster from happening again, would House of Ufran’s execution be recorded in the same manner? The people reading the documentation would think we deserve the punishment, just like Issan deserves his death.

“I need to take all of this.” I blink away the vision and stand to tell the keeper. There is no way I could read this many books in one sitting.

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but nothing can leave this building,” he says.

“I’m the empress.”

“Of course you are. That is why you are allowed to be here.” The keeper keeps a straight face. “But even the emperor can’t take or change records in the palace dossier.”

“Why is that?”

“To prevent records from getting lost or altered.”

“I just need it for a couple days.”

“I’m sorry.”

Reenan knits her eyebrows and takes a step forward. I place a hand on her shoulder, stopping her before she can give the keeper a piece of her mind. He’s just doing his job. There is no need to yell at him for following standard procedures. Besides, my reputation can’t withstand another black mark.

“Fine, then,” I say. “I’ll just have to read it here.” I sit back down and take the closest volume.

I lose track of time as I read page after page. My eyes grow tired and I have to blink several times to refocus. After a while, the words bleed into each other. When I finish reading an entire book and have no idea what I just read, I know it’s time to take a break.

“I’ll come back tomorrow.” I snap the volume closed and toss it to the keeper.

His fingertips touch the book a couple times before he finally has it secure in his hand. From the way he holds it to his chest, I would think it’s an account of his wealth instead of dry records that make me yawn.

“Don’t tell anyone about my visit today,” I tell the keeper.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Why is Your Majesty interested in the minister of justice?” Reenan asks as we walk out.

“There is something I don’t understand,” I say.

“About the minister of justice?”

About both him and his daughter. Serene was the person who ran over me with her carriage in my last life. That couldn’t be a coincidence, especially since we had loved the same man. What I don’t understand is why she would want to kill me. Even if she believed Draven had feelings for me, a lady such as herself usually doesn’t have the guts or the manpower to carry this out.

She said she loves Draven, yet she had allowed or even suggested that Draven run away with me for revenge. Something doesn’t seem right, and I need to find out what.

The high priest’s words ring in my ears. There is a larger threat to Ezra than my father. If I can’t take care of the threat, Ezra will be the last emperor of Viscent Empire and everyone in my family will die.

I rub my temple. The more I think about it, the more my head hurts.

“Your Majesty, are you having the headaches again? Here.” Reenan pushes a vial of pellets into my hand. “I just saw a royal healer. I’ll get him for you.”

I turn to the direction Reenan is looking at and my heart skips a beat. Coming toward us is none other than Draven. His pale blue robes sway with every step, but I don’t think he saw me because his eyes lack focus.

“No, I’m fine.” I grab Reenan’s wrist and pull her down the road to our right.

“Your Majesty, this is not the way to your tower.”

“I decided to take a walk in the gardens.”

“But the sun is setting.”

I cringe. Her voice is too loud. I glance at Draven and find him staring at me. Too late.

“Yes, you’re right. It is getting dark.” I change directions and head straight ahead in my original direction.

I have no reasons to avoid Draven. I haven’t done anything wrong. Now that he saw me, I can’t walk the other way. And so I saunter toward him like he wasn’t the man who betrayed me and I wasn’t the woman who lied to him.

The closer I get to him, the stiffer his body becomes. I try not to glance at him too often. He’s no one special. Just another royal healer in the palace. I shouldn’t pay him more attention than I do the other royal healers, especially now when a thousand eyes are on me, waiting for me to make a mistake so courtiers can raise another complaint against me in court.

I manage to act normal as I stroll past him. For a second, I want to turn to him and ask about my cure, but Reenan is here, and there are a couple servants within hearing distance. I keep my mouth shut.

Reenan looks over her shoulder at Draven. “Did you see that, Your Majesty?”

“What?” I hold my breath. Did she discover something?

“That royal healer didn’t even bow when you walked past him.”

I let out a breath. “He didn’t?”

“No, he didn’t!”

“Maybe he doesn’t know I’m the empress.”

“That’s impossible. You’re wearing your tiara.” She purses her lips. “Today, people can refuse to bow at you. Tomorrow, they’ll all pretend you’re not their empress. This won’t do.”

She rolls up her sleeves and turns around.

“Wait.” I catch her arm. “Let it go.”

“But Your Majesty!”

“Just let it go. Some people are thicker than others. He didn’t realize I’m the empress.”

“How thick can a healer be? They’re chosen for their brains.”

“He’s only book smart.”

“You know him?”

“Reenan!” I stamp my foot. “I have more important things to do.”

She glances at Draven one last time. I follow her gaze to him. He’s still standing at the same place where I passed him, staring at me. I look away quickly and hurry to my tower.

“Sila,” he calls.

I pretend I didn’t hear him and walk even faster.

“Your Majesty.” His voice sounds closer and closer.

When it doesn’t look like I can avoid him, I sigh. “Reenan, wait for me in my tower.”

She furrows her eyebrows. “I can’t leave you alone. The last time I did that, someone came to assassinate you.”

“He’s not an assassin.”

She purses her lips.

“Fine. Just wait for me over there.” I point at a nearby tree.

She looks from Draven to me before she drags herself to the tree.

I wait for Draven to catch up with me and declare his business, except that he doesn’t. He just stands there drinking me in.

I clear my throat, growing more uncomfortable by the second. If someone walks by and notices us, there will be fresh gossip in the court and palace. “Draven, do you need something?”

He hesitates for a moment. “Why did you lie to me? Is this a game to you?”

“Game?” I tilt my head back to look at him. If not for the pain on his face, I would spin around and walk off, never to talk to him again. I don’t have time to play games, not when the whole empire rests on my shoulders. “Is that what you think this is?” If anyone is playing a game, it’s him. He was the one who tricked me into running away with him.

“You’re as cruel as your father,” he whispers.

“I am cruel?” For a moment, I fight the urge to tell him everything. “Draven, if you didn’t get to know me as Sila, what would you do to Ursila Ufran?”

“What?”

“What would you do to Ursila?” I repeat. “Make her fall in love with you, elope with her, destroy everything she has, and then cast her aside?” My voice rises of its own accord.

“No!” He looks appalled. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because my father killed your family, and I’m the reason for everything.”

His eyes widen. “How did you know?”

“Would you do that to me?”

“I’ve never thought about it,” he says after a moment of silence. “You were the reason my family died. I hated you for it, but it’s your father who killed them. I would’ve taken my revenge on your father.”

I stare at him in the eye long and hard. He’s not lying. This is what he really thinks right now. So what changed his mind?

Serene.

The name pops up in my mind. I can’t forget the way she embraced him and announced the fall of House of Ufran, asking him to leave with her. The more I know, the less I understand her. If I were her, I would never allow the man I love to approach another woman.

“Sila, is it your headaches?” He bends down to look at me, his hands clasping my shoulders.

I push him away and stumble back. Too late. Reenan is already charging at us with furious eyes.

“I have to go.” I need to get back to my tower before Reenan can make a scene.

“I discovered the perfect cure,” he says.

“What?” My gaze swivels to him. Finally!

“I …” He glances at Reenan, who is upon us. Then in a lower voice, he says, “Meet me in my room tomorrow night and I will cure your headaches.”

If anyone else said that, I would dismiss him for a liar, but not Draven. He cured me of my headaches in my last life. Until the day I died, the headaches hadn’t come back. If he could do that the last time, he could do it this time.

“No.” I thought about something. “You come to my tower tomorrow. Bring everything you need.” I can’t go to his room, not when there are so many pairs of eyes on me.

He nods and hurries off just before Reenan arrives with hands on her hips.

“He touched you!”

I swear smoke is coming out of her nostrils.

“He didn’t mean to. I was having one of my headache spells,” I say.

“But he still touched you.”

I sigh. “He’s a healer. How are healers supposed to cure people if they can’t touch them?”

She furrows her brows. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Like what?” I head toward my tower.

She follows close behind. “I don’t know. What were you talking about anyway?”

A smile spreads across my lips. “He’s going to cure me of my headaches.” I can finally be normal again. I won’t have to worry about thinking too hard just in case the concentration triggers my headaches. I’ll be able to help Ezra find the culprit responsible for ending Viscent Empire and stand by his side to rule as his empress.

Tomorrow. My suffering will end tomorrow.

Chapter 16

Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.

That thought dissipates when Ezra arrives at my tower with Ira behind him.

“Ezra.” I jump up from my seat in front of the vanity mirror and greet him at the door.

His lips soften into a smile, but I can tell something is bothering him. I rise on tiptoes to smooth out the creases between his brows. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“It’s the nobles and courtiers. They have nothing to do except for showering me with scrolls of baseless complaints.”

“About me?”

He doesn’t reply, and I take that as yes.

“What did they say?” I don’t really want to know. No one, myself included, likes to hear complaints about herself.

He touches his forehead to mine. “Don’t worry. None of them is true.”

“You don’t believe them?” I lift my head, grinning at him like a fool.

He turns his head and captures my lips in a kiss that melts me on the spot. If not for his arm on my back, I would’ve dissolve into a puddle beside his feet.

“I love you,” I whisper in a voice so low that I can hardly hear it myself.

“What?”

I shake my head and smile at him.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

He cups my cheeks. His fingers trails down my eyes, nose, and lips. “Maybe not everything they say is a lie.”

“What did they say?” He’s so close, so close that our lips brush with every word I speak.

“You’re an enchantress, sent to the palace to corrupt the emperor.”

I frown. That again. I bet the people making the complaints are my father’s political enemies. But it’s weird that there are so many. In the past, few people had dared to cross my father. Now the tides have turned.

“Ursila?”

“Umm?”

“How are your headaches?”

They’re killing me. But instead of saying that, I smile. “They’re better.” They will be completely gone by the end of tomorrow.

“I heard there is one healer …”

“What?” It’s unlike him to hesitate.

He shakes his head and smiles. “Nothing.” He brings me to his chest until my body plasters against his so tightly that I shift in his arms.

I want to tell him about the many places I went to today. There is something wrong with his minister of justice. I don’t know exactly what, but he could be the threat the high priest was hinting at. But before I can tell him what I discovered, he lowers me to the bed and I can no longer think.

* * *

Ezra leaves before the crack of dawn. I open my eyes only long enough to give him a peck on the cheek before dozing off again.

Despite my night of rest, I feel so tired. Energy drains from my body, and I can’t muster enough strength to do anything.

“Your Majesty. Your Majesty,” Reenan cries beside my ear.

I throw the blanket over my head and turn my back to her.

She gets the hint, for which I’m glad. Distantly, she says something to someone. I have no idea what she said, and I can’t bring myself to care.

Later, the door to my room opens again.

“Your Majesty, are you awake?” Eve asks. Then the mattress on my bed dips as someone sits on the edge.

Cool fingers brush against my forehead and trail down my cheeks. They grab my wrist and seek my pulse. A moment later, Eve lets out a short laugh. The mattress springs back to shape and the door closes behind her.

“You can’t come here. Leave before I make you.” Reenan’s shrill voice carries into my room.

“I’ve been waiting for Her Majesty for hours. Have you told her I’m here?” Draven says.

“No one is forcing you to wait.”

“Her Majesty wants me to be here today.”

“Well. She didn’t say anything to me, so it couldn’t be all that important.”

“How about you let me see her?”

“How about you turn around and go back to where you came from?”

There is a moment of silence before Draven speaks again. “Why can’t she come out to see me?”

“She’s asleep. And if you keep this up, you’ll wake her.”

“At this hour?”

“You got a problem with that?”

“Does this happen often?”

“Oversleeping? Her Majesty tires easily lately.”

“Has any healer taken a look at her?”

Reenan hesitates. “No, but it’s nothing serious. Her Majesty asked me not to send for one.”

“Move.”

This time, Reenan doesn’t say anything. The door to my room opens again and footsteps come ever closer to my bed.

“Sila?” Draven says.

“Umm?” My lids might as well be made of iron. They won’t open, no matter how hard I try.

Then fingers touch my forehead and open my lids. I can make out Draven’s handsome face bending over me before he lets go of my lids.

“What are you doing?” Reenan demands.

Instead of answering her, he proceeds to check my pulse at my neck and wrist. At one point, he’s so close that I can feel the heat from his breath.

He drops my wrist.

“What’s wrong with Her Majesty?” Reenan asks.

Even without opening my eyes, I can sense the desolation and the loss radiating from him. Worry wrings my heart. If the best healer in Viscent Empire feels this way about my illness, what does it say about my condition?

“What’s wrong with her?” Reenan raises her voice. “Is it a terminal condition? If I sought a healer sooner, would she have a better chance? Oh my goddess! The duke is going to kill me. I should’ve known better. I—”

“Stop cursing her,” Draven says.

“You can save her, can’t you? You’re a royal healer. You have to save her! If she dies, you don’t get to live, do you understand?”

“What are you talking about? Her pregnancy is not high-risk. She won’t die.”

“I’ll make sure … What did you say? P-preg—”

“She’s pregnant.”

“She’s not stricken with a terminal illness?”

Draven remains silent.

“Then why do you have that look on your face?” Reenan practically screams.

“I’ll wait for her outside until she wakes up,” Draven says. The door opens and shuts, and I know he’s gone.

Reenan mumbles something unintelligible under her breath. The stone on my chest lifts instantly.

I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant!

I had a feeling that’s the case a few days before, but to hear it from Draven is a different matter completely. He said I’m pregnant, so it must be true. There is no way he would misdiagnose.

A surge of emotions springs forth. I don’t know if I feel more excited to have Ezra’s baby or more worried about Father’s intention of making the baby his puppet.

I bite my lip, forcing myself to fight off the wave of fatigue. My fingers twitch, and slowly, they curve into a ball. When I can taste blood on my tongue, I finally open my eyes.

“Reenan.” My voice sounds low and weak.

“Your Majesty!” Reenan drops to her knees in front of me and grabs both of my hands. “Did you hear that? That healer said you’re pregnant.”

“Yes. Don’t tell anyone yet, including my father.”

“Why?” Her eyebrows knit.

“Promise me.” I squeeze her hand with all my strength. “Promise.”

She nods. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I need to see Draven.” I push myself up with great difficulty.

“That healer? You should rest some more. He already examined you. I’ll ask him to brew a concoction for you to ensure the smoothness of your pregnancy.”

“I need to see him.” I glare at her.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The urge to close my eyes and lie down for another snooze is great. I manage not to succumb to the temptation.

Draven walks into my room again, and I dismiss Reenan with a wave of my hand.

She hesitates at the door.

“I need to talk to the healer about my headaches,” I explain to Reenan.

She furrows her brows, looking from Draven to me.

I know I should keep her around as chaperone, but there is a history between Draven and me that I don’t want another person to know. Just when I worry she won’t leave, she says, “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Now it’s just Draven and me in the room.

“Did I make you wait long?” I ask.

“No.”

I look outside at the dipping sun and decide not to call him on his lie. “You said I’m pregnant?” I can’t resist asking for confirmation.

“Yes. Congratulations. ” He looks more withdrawn than the last time I saw him.

A grin splits my face. “Can you keep that a secret?”

“Sure.”

Then I think of something and my hand flies to my stomach. “The cure you have for my headaches. Is it suitable for pregnancy?”

“Yes.”

“Would it harm the baby if we do it today?”

“No,” he says without hesitation.

“Then please do it now.” The longer I wait, the more chance of complication I might face. What if Draven later decides that he hates me after all and the only way to get back at my father is through me? What if Serene influences him in the future and he changes his mind about curing my headaches? I can’t take those risks. I need a cure for the condition that has plagued me for all of my life. Today!

He glances at the sun outside the window. “It’s going to take a while.”

“I don’t care.”

He goes to retrieve a wooden chest from outside the room and proceeds to set up his tools and herbs.

I’ve been through this once before, so I’m not alarmed when he lines up long needles of varying sizes on a table. He lights a pungent-smelling green candle and runs the length of each needle against the flame until they burn orange. Then the tips of those needles sizzle in a vial of black concoction.

I stare at Draven. His deft hands move with speed and efficiency. For a moment, he seems lost in his work, oblivious of everything around him. It’s precisely this that reminds me of what had attracted me to him. The seriousness on his face whenever he concentrates on his concoctions is more appealing than any words of flattery spoken by men who tried to court me. When he took away my headaches, I gave him my heart.

Now, only loss and regret linger in the air. Now, there is someone else who fills my heart and soul.

I blink, tearing my gaze off him.

“I forgive you,” I whisper. The moment I say that, I know it’s true. He’ll cure my headaches, and I forgive him for everything he did in my last life. He wasn’t the mastermind behind everything. Someone used him to achieve a specific goal. What that goal is and who that someone else is are things I have to figure out. Regardless, if he found it in his heart to treat the daughter of the person who murdered his family, then I can find it in mine to forgive. We’ll be even, and I can finally move on.

“Did you say something?” He looks up from his needles, which are now tinted black.

I don’t repeat what I said, so he returns to his work.

“Sila, I need to see your head, neck, and back.” Draven sets his tray on my bed.

I turn my back to him, lower my dress to my waist, and pull a blanket to my chest. Without being told, I collect my long hair and gather it to my front, out of his way.

The heat of his gaze warms my body until he finally says, “It might be a little painful.”

The prickles come. First in my head, then my neck and shoulders. The last time he did this, I made the mistake of looking back into a mirror and seeing all the needles sticking out of me. There was oddly no bleeding, but the image alarmed me all the same. This time, I squeeze my eyes shut. They don’t hurt all that much if I don’t look at them. My regular headaches are much worse.

He wasn’t joking when he said it’s going to take a long time. I sit there until my back turns stiff and my buttocks hurt. My head feels warm, then hot. Color explodes like fireworks behind my closed lids, and I swear the needles still sizzle from the heat of the flame.

At one point, Draven has to leave my side, no doubt to light some candles.

Reenan calls out to me from outside the door.

“Your Majesty, we can’t be interrupted. Otherwise, everything we did is for naught, and I can’t use this same treatment twice.” Draven inserts another needle into my head.

“Don’t come in. I’m fine,” I shout to Reenan. This is my one chance at curing the condition that has caused so much pain and suffering for all of my life. I won’t receive a second one.

She grumbles something I can’t hear, but she doesn’t come in. I let out the breath I was holding.

“After the treatment, will the headaches ever come back?” I ask Draven.

“Not likely.” He thrusts a vial into my hand. “Drink this.”

The liquid tastes like bitter melon, except it’s worse. It’s the nastiest thing I’ve ever drunk, but I force it down my throat and try not to gag.

“What should I do if the headaches return?” I ask.

“If it does, it should only be a minor annoyance, not anything like what you had before.”

Just as I thought.

“Sila?”

“Yes?”

“Do you love the emperor?”

I grow silent for a while. “Why do you ask?”

“There have been rumors.”

I open my eyes. “About what?”

“Many nobles in the palace and court don’t wish to see you beside His Majesty as his empress. If …”

I wait for him to finish his thought.

“If you’re not happy here, we can leave.”

A lump catches in my throat. “You mean we can elope? You and me?” The last time we did that, it didn’t end up well.

“Yes.” He pauses for a moment before he pulls out a needle from behind my neck.

“The empress and a royal healer?”

“I can make a concoction to forge your death. You will die of incurable illness. No one would suspect.” There is a certain urgency in his voice.

I want to laugh, but instead, heat burns my eyes. “Do you know what would happen to our families if anyone finds out? No, you don’t have any family left. Do you know what would happen to my family?”

“No one will find out.”

That’s what he said the last time.

“Is this a trick, Draven? You want revenge against my father, but he’s too powerful, so you take everything out on me? After all, I was the reason for your family’s death.”

“Of course not!”

“Then why?” I practically scream. “Don’t tell me you love me.”

A thick silence hangs in the air before he whispers, “Maybe I do.”

If he weren’t in the middle of pulling another needle from my head, I would’ve turned around to gape at him. But he is, for which I’m glad. I don’t know what to say in response anyway. There was a time I would be thrilled to hear that. That time had passed, and I wasn’t the same girl as before.

“In another lifetime, I might’ve run away with you,” I whisper in a voice so low I’m not sure if he hears me. “Not now.”

Now there is Ezra. Now there is my baby.

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. A while later, he resumes pulling needles out of my body.

“Your Majesty,” Reenan cries outside the room.

I’m about to tell her to give me some more time before Ezra’s voice comes through the door. “Is Ursila inside?”

My hands grip my dress so hard that my knuckles whiten. Ezra can’t be here. Draven is still working on the needles, and I’m not dressed.

“She is, but she shouldn’t be interrupted,” Reenan says.

“Why is that?” Serene asks.

My heart sinks when I hear her voice.

“She’s seeing a healer.”

“Alone?” a male voice asks. If I’m not mistaken, that’s Serene’s father, Tryant Rustin. What is he doing here? He has no business in my tower. “How long have they been inside?”

I don’t hear Reenan’s response. My head buzzes in a half panic mode. I have to get up from the bed. I have to straighten my dress. I—

“Sila, don’t move. I just need another minute.” Draven holds down my shoulder.

Did he not hear what is going on outside? I don’t have another minute. And then a thought comes to my mind, so horrible that my throat clogs.

“Did you plan this?” I spin around to face him.

“What?” He pulls what must be the last needle from my head.

No one else would know. I asked him to come to my tower just yesterday. How did Serene and her father find out? Don’t tell me they just happened to drop by.

He opens his mouth to speak, but before anything comes out, the door to my room bursts open and several people charge in. The shock on their faces must have mirrored mine. I’m well aware of what they’re seeing. I’m clutching a thin blanket to cover my chest while a handsome healer sits beside me on the bed.

“I can explain.” My eyes are glued to Ezra, who is looking from Draven to me with disbelief and hurt.

“What else is there to explain? I only believe in what I see.” Rutun is here too, and she’s folding her arms across her chest while giving me a disappointed look. But she forgets to hide the gleeful smile on her lips.

“Draven is only—”

“Do you call all royal healers with such intimacy, Your Majesty?” Rutun asks.

I grind my teeth. If there were not so many other people here, I would snap on her already.

“Your Majesty.” Draven stands and plants himself in front of me, half covering me from their view. “I was merely treating Her Majesty for her headaches.”

“Treating headaches requires you to take off her clothes?” Tryant shoots up an eyebrow. “Your Majesty, it’s clear what is happening. I’ll take care of this from here on.” He gestures to a guard behind him.

The guard closes in on Draven and grabs his arm.

“No, it’s not clear.” Draven pushes the guard away and falls to his knees before Ezra. “Your Majesty, we are innocent. I was in the process of curing Her Majesty’s condition. I’ve been working on the perfect cure for weeks. The chief royal healer can vouch for me.”

I don’t know why Draven would defend me if he set this up, but I don’t hesitate to bob my head. “What he said is true. Those are proof.” I gesture at the tray of needles and vials on the table.

The tightness in my chest eases a little as the storm dissipates on Ezra’s face. “Is the treatment successful?” he asks Draven.

“Yes, it’s complete.” A proud smile tugs at Draven’s lips. “Her Majesty will no longer have to suffer as she had.”

“Then this is all a—”

“Your Majesty,” Serene cuts Ezra off. “I want to ask Draven something.”

Ezra furrows his eyebrows.

Without waiting for his approval, she crouches down until she’s at eye level with Draven. Her silky blue dress pools around her legs. “Draven, why did you spend the past weeks working nonstop, many times forgetting to eat or sleep, on a cure for Her Majesty’s headaches?”

He looks away from her. “Because she’s the empress and I’m a royal healer. I promised her I would cure her.”

“As a royal healer, you know very well that you shouldn’t be alone with the empress. Why didn’t you have a maid in the room?”

“Because the treatment requires his full attention. He can’t risk having another person in the room to distract him.” I raise my voice and glare at her with my coldest gaze.

Serene all but ignores me. “Your Majesty,” she says to Ezra, “if someone murdered your entire family, would you pour your heart and soul into working on a cure for his daughter?”

“What do you mean?” Ezra asks.

Serene’s eyes are on Draven, but she speaks to Ezra. “I’ve known Draven since I was a girl. I know Duke Ufran once sought Draven’s family out to heal Her Majesty and ended up killing his entire family. Why is Draven still willing to heal Her Majesty?” She asks Ezra this question, but her face is turned toward Draven. There is a certain sadness and heartbreak in her expression that I might be able to sympathize with if she weren’t trying to incriminate me just about now.

“Yes, why?” Rutun’s eyes practically glitter.

Silence hangs in the air for a long time.

“Because you and the empress are lovers,” Serene concludes.

“No!” Draven snaps his attention to Ezra. “I admit I have feelings for her, but she doesn’t love me. This is not her fault.”

Warmth flushes through me, temporarily chasing away the bone-shaking chill. At this moment, I realize that perhaps Draven is innocent. This is not all just a part of his grand scheme for revenge. Someone must’ve notified Serene of Draven’s presence in my tower, or maybe Serene has Draven and me under watch.

“Your Majesty, I’m sure the rumors don’t grow out of thin air.” Tryant strokes his pointy beard. “If you turn them over to me, I’ll get to the bottom of this within the week.”

I bet he can, just like the lightning fast way he condemned Issan and House of Ufran. Perhaps by the end of the week, I would leave an infamous mark in the Viscent Empire’s history book.

“Guards!” Tryant cries.

A couple more guards step forward. Following Tryant’s signal, they charge at Draven and me. One of the guards is about to seize my wrist when Ezra says, “Stop! You do not have permission to touch her.”

“Your Majesty?” Tryant turns to Ezra.

Despite myself, I also gaze at him, waiting what seems like an eternity for his decision.

“Send Draven to the dungeon for questioning. Ursila will be confined to this tower,” he says.

I feel like a knife has jabbed into my heart. He doesn’t believe me. He’s going to keep me prisoner.

“Everyone will leave right now.” The expression on Ezra’s face becomes withdrawn. “No one will speak of what happened today.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” everyone says in unison.

And then they leave my room, all except for Reenan. She hesitates at the door. After a long moment, even she leaves.

“Ursila, what do you have to say?” Ezra asks.

I purse my lips so tightly that they must’ve turned white. I have a lot to say, but he has already passed his judgment.

“Do you … do you have feelings for him?” His voice wavers ever so slightly, but it must be my imagination, for the ice emperor never wavers.

“He was treating me for my headaches.” I make another attempt at explanation.

“He called you Sila. There were rumors that you went to his room in disguise. You didn’t look at him like you looked at other healers.”

Something within me snaps. “You already made up your mind that I’m guilty. Then why bother questioning me? What do you want me to say? That I love Draven, more than anyone in this world? That I would elope with him at the first opportunity?” The more I speak, the more my voice cracks. I bite my lip with fierce determination not to cry.

“Is that what you really think?” He raises his voice.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters. I believe in what you tell me.”

“No, you don’t!” If he believes me, he wouldn’t listen to Serene and Rutun. He wouldn’t hold me prisoner in my tower.

He sucks in a deep breath. “We both need to calm down.” And then he walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I don’t want to cry, but I can’t stop the heaving of my shoulders. What had begun as a day full of hope ended in despair.

“Did you tell His Majesty that you’re pregnant?” Reenan’s voice is just beside my ear.

No. The thought had never come to my mind.

“Then I’ll tell him,” Reenan says.

“No!” I grab her arm before she flies out of my room. My baby is not a tool or a weapon. Either he believes me or he doesn’t, and a child shouldn’t change his feelings. Worse, what if he thinks that the child is not his? I won’t subject my baby to this kind of disgrace.

“But Your Majesty—”

“Leave me be.”

“I can tell His Grace—”

“Just leave me alone.” I don’t mean to yell at Reenan. I know she means well, and she might be the only one here who cares about me. But the words just burst out of my mouth. My heart breaks a little more when she walks out of my room.

And then I’m truly alone. I lie there, staring at the ceiling while my tears dry on my cheeks again and again.

Chapter 17

The next morning, my eyes feel strained and puffy. Last night’s rest is nearly nonexistent, but the quietness of the night gave me space to think. Something is going very wrong. A large scheme is brewing right under my nose, larger than me or Ezra. Goddess Avinia sent me back in time for a reason. I can’t afford to let personal feelings get in the way of the entire Viscent Empire.

“Reenan,” I call out.

Several minutes later, she comes in with pursed lips.

I clear my throat, trying to work out an apology. “I wasn’t feeling well yesterday, so I got tired of repeating the same words again and again.”

Crap. That’s not an apology.

“You should’ve just left me alone at my first request.” I bite my tongue. Hard. Why is saying sorry so difficult? “I—”

“Your Majesty, I can’t find Eve anywhere last night and today,” Reenan says.

Despite myself, I smile. She’s talking to me again. She forgave me. “Maybe she went out to do something.”

“No. All of her stuff is gone.”

“Maybe—” I stop myself short. Yesterday morning, while I was asleep, I thought I heard her voice. She examined me, checked my pulse, and laughed. Last night, even with all the commotion, she wasn’t among the onlookers in the crowd. Could it be that she has already discovered my pregnancy and has left to tell my father about it?

Oh, no!

I straighten my dress, shrug on a cloak, and race down the steps of my tower. Two unfamiliar guards block me at the exit.

“Get out of my way. I need to go somewhere urgently,” I say.

The guards don’t even blink. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but you’re not allowed to go anywhere,” one of them says.

“You don’t understand. This is something important.”

“Our order from His Majesty is that there are no exceptions.”

No exception, my ass! “Where is he? Tell him I need to see him.”

“His Majesty is at the morning court. I’ll notify him of your request later.”

I glare at the guards, each one in turn. The morning court won’t end for at least another hour or two. I pace in front of them in frustration. If I’m not mistaken, the ball has already started rolling and conspiracies are unfolding.

“Who is in charge of you two?” I ask. Ezra can’t possibility overlook the guards directly. He has to rule over the empire and has no time for that.

The guards exchange a glance. One of them says, “It’s Gabryl, Your Majesty.”

“Tell him to come here. Right now!”

“But he’s at—”

“I don’t care where he is. I need to see him in my tower this instant. Now go find him.” Even if I don’t have the power to summon the emperor, I have the authority to ask for Ezra’s guard. I am, after all, still the empress.

My dress swishes at my feet as I spin around to enter the tower. I might look confident enough to stare down a bull, but worry eats at my insides.

The minutes I wait for Gabryl seem to last hours. The guards didn’t give me a definitive response. I’m not even sure they’ll carry out my command. And if Gabryl is really busy, he might not come right away.

“Your Majesty, I heard you are looking for me?” Gabryl strolls into my hall.

I stop myself from jumping down from my chair. Instead, I take a calming breath. “Yes, I am. I have to go to House of Ufran to do something urgently. Now.”

He scratches the back of his head.

“Is that a problem?” I arch my eyebrow.

“His Majesty just passed the order not to allow you to go anywhere, much less outside the palace.”

“This is an emergency. Ezra will understand.”

“Then I have to notify him of the nature—”

“I already told you. This is an emergency. It can’t wait for Ezra to come back from the morning court.”

“But—”

“Are you worried that I will try to run away?”

“No. It’s just that—”

“Then it’s settled. Reenan, prepare to leave.”

His eyes grow wide as Reenan helps me from the chair and walks me out the tower in record speed.

“Your Majesty, I think I should quickly tell His Majesty first.” Gabryl trails after me.

“Yes, please do that,” I say over my shoulder without slowing down.

“He means to say that you can’t go anywhere without prior approval from His Majesty.” Serene intercepts my path.

Why is she everywhere? Now, more than ever, I’m sure she has someone watching my tower.

“You have to return to your room,” she says.

I glare at her. This is the woman who betrayed our friendship and murdered me in my last life. I haven’t taken my revenge on her yet, but she has already started to conspire against me again.

“Your Majesty, you can either return by yourself or with some persuasion.” Her expression today lacks the fake warmth from before. When she looks at me, the coldness in her eyes can freeze a lake.

Two guards behind her take a threatening step forward. I have no doubt that she’s capable of using force if necessary, no matter if I’m still the empress or not.

For a moment, I contemplate shoving her aside and charging directly out of the palace. I kill that thought immediately. I’m not stronger than her guards, and I would only make a scene. So instead, I stare her down with an icy gaze. “Serene, one day, you’ll regret everything you did to me.”

Her smirk makes my palm itch. I so want to slap it off her face.

Not now. I’ll have the opportunity, and I promise that opportunity will present itself soon.

Calm. I need to calm down. In this game, the more I allow emotions to get the better of me, the more likely I’ll lose.

I force the corner of my lips to curve upward. I’ve read quite a bite about her father and her, but I still hadn’t figured out the motive behind their actions. Now is a good time to test some theories.

“Serene, I never noticed it before.” I walk toward her until our noses almost touch. “Do you know your pupils are not honey brown but a dark shade of amber?” I don’t know why I always thought they’re brown. Maybe it’s because of the skillfully applied eyeshadow.

Her expression freezes for a short second. “So?” she says.

The lapse in her composure gives me hope. If her eye color doesn’t matter, she wouldn’t react like she did. “Umm. I don’t remember ever seeing anyone else with amber eyes.”

“Your Majesty doesn’t know many people.”

“That’s not true.” I might not have met many people when I was in House of Ufran, but I met a lot more in the palace and court. Just the number of servants in the palace must have reached thousands. None of them have amber eyes. At least, not that I can remember.

Serene takes a step back and curtsies. “Your Majesty, I won’t delay you from returning to your tower.”

I stare after her back until she disappears around a shrub.

“Gabryl,” I call out.

“Your Majesty?”

“Do you know a lot of people?” I turn to his young face.

“I think so.”

“Have you seen anyone with amber eyes?”

He furrows his brows. A long moment later, he says, “Only once, Your Majesty.”

“Where? Who is he?”

“It was during a battle with Nungulians. One of the Nungulians has amber eyes.”

“You fought in a battle before?” He looks too young for that.

“Yes. A year ago, alongside my uncle.”

My heart picks up speed. Nungulians have amber eyes, and the Nungul Empire is our most formidable enemy. Serene also has amber eyes that she tries to hide with makeup. She can read a different language. What does that mean?

It might mean nothing, but chances are, Serene is a Nungulian. That means either her father or mother, probably both, is a Nungulian. They’re spies!

“Gabryl, I need to see His Majesty as soon as possible.”

“I can relay your request after the morning court,” he says.

“No, go do it now.”

He gives me a blank stare. I glare at him until he relents. “Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll go right now.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting for him in my receiving hall.” With that, I spin around and enter my tower.

Serene and his father are spies for Nungul Empire. They’ve infiltrated Viscent Empire for decades. Tryant Rustin has even overtaken the position of minister of justice, one of the highest posts in court. He ordered the swift execution of Prince Issan and my entire family. The more I think about it, the more everything falls into place, and the more I’m convinced they’re spies.

Viscent Empire has a paucity of royalty in the last few generations. The only surviving sons of the late emperor are Ezra and Issan. Now, there is only Ezra. What would happen if Ezra died? The empire will be leaderless.

No, it might not. I shake my head.

Besides Ezra, there is the unofficial regent, my father. If anyone can pull the empire together after Ezra dies, it’s my father, especially if I were pregnant with the next heir to the throne.

A sick feeling channels through my body. I drop into the armchair at the end of the hall and close my eyes, folding my hands on my lap.

That’s why Serene played Ezra against House of Ufran in my last life. That’s why she pushed Draven to me, even though she loved him herself.

My usual pounding headache doesn’t come, but thinking everything through makes me nauseous.

Viscent Empire might end in your hands.

The high priest’s words repeat themselves in my mind. He said that to Ezra, but I can’t shake off the feeling that he’s saying it to me also. If I fail, Ezra will be the last emperor of Viscent Empire, and I will be the empress who failed my empire and the goddess.

“Are you well, Your Majesty?” Reenan asks. “Here, take some of your headache concoctions.”

I shake my head. “I don’t have a headache. I’m fine.” Except for the weight crushing my chest. “Is Ezra here?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

I open my eyes to look at the position of the sun outside the window. It’s not time for the ending of the morning court yet. Although I asked Gabryl to relay my message right away, I didn’t really expect Ezra to dump all the courtiers and rush to my tower at my mere request, especially after what happened yesterday.

Patience. I need to be patient.

“Is he here yet?” I manage to wait for a long while before asking the question again.

“No, Your Majesty.”

Patience. Patience.

I take deep breaths to calm down my racing pulse. Time ticks away, second by second, while I do nothing but wait in my chair. The entire empire is in jeopardy. Members of our enemy empire have infiltrated our court and palace. I’ve only discovered two, but only goddess knows how many more there are. My father has discovered I’m pregnant with Ezra’s child. I have no idea what he’s going to do next.

The sun creeps down the sky. I’m sure the morning court has ended and Gabryl has relayed my message, but Ezra is still not here.

I jump up from the chair and pace in front of it. My long dress sweeps the floor in angry waves. Back and forth, back and forth, in furious motions.

“Reenan!” I swivel toward her. “Go get a pen and paper.”

She curtsies and hurries to do my bidding. When I have the supplies I requested, I scribble a letter and seal it with wax, stamping my personal insignia before the wax cools.

“Personally deliver this to Ian.” I hand her the letter. “And go remind Ezra that I’m still waiting for him.”

Chapter 18

Ezra didn’t come. Long after Reenan came back from House of Ufran and Ezra’s residence.

The sun has set and the receiving hall is dark. A maid offered to light candles an hour ago, but I waved her aside. The darkness suits my mood just fine as I lean my head on a propped palm. Another maid comes with dishes of dessert and tea, but I have no appetite for any of that. The tea gradually cools on the side table and the mini cakes sit untouched.

Then a sudden light forces me to squint. Reenan marches into the hall holding a torch in one hand and balancing a covered tray with another. She clears away the food on the table and slides the tray onto it.

“Your Majesty, the kitchen made venison today. Your favorite.” She opens the cover to reveal a plate of perfectly browned slices of meat, stir-fried vegetables, and a couple rolls of bread.

“When is Ezra going to come?” I ask.

“Your Majesty, you have to eat. You haven’t had much of anything today.”

“I’m not hungry.” In fact, the smell of the beautifully displayed entrée brings bile to my mouth. “Did you deliver the letter yourself to Ian?”

“I gave it to his personal servant.”

“You told him it’s urgent?”

“I did.”

Then he should be here by now, to talk to me like I requested. Unless … “Did Ezra forbid House of Ufran to visit me?” I drop my arm and sit up straight, glaring at Reenan with eyes that could spit fire.

“Your Majesty, you have to eat.” Reenan breaks a roll of bread and brings it to my lips. “Even if you’re not hungry, think about the baby.”

My hand automatically covers my belly. I was so wound up by everything today that I forgot I was pregnant. She’s right, of course. I have to eat.

I take the roll in her hand nibble at the garlic bread. The crispy and crunchy roll was baked to perfection and is full of flavor. My teeth sink into it and work it down my throat. I’m about to take another bite when I taste acid on my tongue. The next thing I know, I’m leaning over the chair and spewing up the piece of bread and everything else.

There is not much in my stomach, only yellowish liquid that smells like expired cheese.

“Your Majesty! Are you all right?” Reenan pats my back.

I want to tell her I’m fine, but my throat is too busy gagging to make any other sound. When it finally stops, I collapse to the armchair in a heap.

Reenan yells at the maids standing outside the door for them to clean up the mess. A flurry of activity surrounds me. I close my eyes to all of them. The nausea eases a bit after I vomit, but the lingering bitter taste makes me want to puke again. Distantly, Reenan says something about bathing and changing, but I’m too tired. I can’t make myself stand, much less walk.

As my maids try to clean up my gown the best they can and move me to my room, I doze off into dreamland, where the world is not about to collapse and I’m not the one responsible for holding it up.

* * *

I know the moment he comes. Even if he doesn’t sit beside me, warming my body with his proximity and pushing down the mattress with his weight, I would know he’s here. He carries the scent of a forest in spring.

I should open my eyes and tell him about the spies. That’s what I’ve been waiting to do for the entire day. But now that he’s here, anger fumes within me. Mixed with that is the urge to shrink into the bed until I disappear. I knew I should’ve bathed!

“Ursila, I heard you haven’t eaten anything.” His voice is matter-of-fact, in stark contrast to my urge to scream.

I turn my face away from him. I can just imagine the expression on his face. Disinterested and bored. He would absentmindedly stroke his pet curled up in his arm, looking at me but not really seeing me. He doesn’t care about me. If he does, he wouldn’t be sitting here, all composed and calm, many hours after I’ve requested to see him. I’ve forgotten that I’m the empress he never wanted. It’s funny how I thought I meant something to him just a day ago.

“Nothing can be gained by refusing to eat. You’re only hurting yourself.” He places a hand on my shoulder, which I thrust away. “I asked the kitchen to prepare your favorite foods.”

He talks like he knows what my favorite foods are. If the kitchen brings venison and vermicelli soup, that’s because Reenan leaked the information. Besides, who told him I refused to eat? I can’t eat. There is a difference.

“I was dealing with urgent matters the entire day. I didn’t have time until now,” he says.

“They’re obviously more urgent than my issues,” I can’t resist saying. What is more important than the survival of this empire? If only he knew.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“It’s exactly what you mean.” I spring up to a sitting position. The rage when Serene sent me back to my tower and the humiliation of being kept under watch erupt right at this moment.

I glare at him, trying to hold back the sting in the back of my eyes. He doesn’t know that the seconds had passed like years while I waited for him. He doesn’t know that my heart died many times, only to rekindle with the hope that he would come. Guilt and helplessness overwhelm me. Something horrible is going to happen, yet I’m powerless to stop it, and the people I rely upon don’t care enough to respond.

He wipes off something warm from my cheek. His eyes soften almost instantly. “I’m sorry.”

The apology takes me by surprise. I blink and look away. “Serene and your minister of justice are spies for Nungul Empire.”

His eyes grow wide for a second. “Why do you say that?”

“Serene has amber pupils. The only people I know who have amber pupils are Nungulians.”

He tilts his head. “Amber eyes are rare in this empire, but they’re not nonexistent.”

“Records of Tryant Rustin are scant, at best, compared to other courtiers.”

“He might not have enough family history of significance.”

I grab his hand and lean forward. Restlessness squeezes my throat. “He executed Prince Issan.”

“With my permission.”

“No, he did it with lightning speed. And Prince Issan was the next to the last candidate for the throne. Can’t you see? His next target is you and my father.”

“Ursila, he’s the minister of justice.”

“That’s why he’s so dangerous. He was undercover for Nungul Empire for decades. He’s the threat the high priest was talking about.”

“What proof do you have?”

“Proof?” I stare at him with what must be a blank expression.

“Yes, proof. I can’t condemn my minister of justice without evidence.”

I slump back. I want to tell him I’m the proof. Serene ran me over with her carriage in my last life because House of Ufran and I were a threat to her, both politically and personally, but I can’t. He won’t believe me if I tell him about my second chance at life, just like he didn’t believe me with Draven.

Draven! Guilt infiltrates my heart. I haven’t thought about him this whole time he was gone.

“What did you do to Draven?” I ask.

“He’s under investigation.”

“Where is he?”

“In the dungeon.”

“He’s innocent. He was just curing me of my condition.”

“That remains to be seen.”

Tiny ants chew my insides to know he’s in the dungeon because of me. What happens to people in the dungeon? I don’t know. The only person I know who was in the dungeon was the assassin, and he supposedly committed suicide shortly after.

Draven is now in the dungeon since yesterday, no doubt under the minister of justice’s authority. What if Tryant Rustin decided that Draven is better off dead? A few days ago, I would have mixed feelings about this. Draven did betray me in my last life, no matter if he was influenced. But now, guilt eats a hole in my heart. He didn’t do anything unforgivable this time around. He worked hard to find a cure for me, only to be thrown into life-threatening danger for helping me.

“You have to let him go.” I tighten my hold on his hand.

“I don’t want to talk about him.” He looks away from me.

“He didn’t do anything. I swear. He was just helping me—”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” he repeats, turning his face to stare into my eyes. This time, with a raised voice.

Anger flushes my cheeks. I want to grab him by the shoulders and make him understand how unreasonable he is right now. Instead, I force myself to suck in a deep breath. Draven won’t die in the dungeon. Serene won’t allow her father to kill him. Despite everything, I do believe her feelings for him are real. I have to get House of Ufran and Tryant Rustin under control somehow.

“I need to speak with my brother and father. You can’t forbid them to visit me in the palace.” I glare at Ezra.

“I’ve never passed that order.”

“Then why was Ian not here after I wrote him an urgent letter?” This had never happened. Ian would’ve come or at least responded.

Ezra’s expression turns grave. “They didn’t come to court, along with many other nobles.”

Maybe that’s their way of undermining Ezra for keeping me locked in my tower. Maybe Ian didn’t see the letter I wrote him. His personal servant must have failed to deliver my letter. I should have asked Reenan to hand the letter directly to Ian, no matter how long she had to wait.

Letters!

I think about the letter in foreign language that I saw in Serene’s rooms in our last life, and an idea comes to mind. I don’t have proof that Serene and her father are spies, but I can find proof. If only I can get hold of the letter.

“Ezra, you have to issue search warrants. We have to—”

Hurried footsteps cut off my request. Then someone must’ve knocked over a vase outside my room before he pounds on the door.

“Your Majesty, are you inside?” Gabryl’s voice asks.

Ezra knits his eyebrows, looking not too pleased. “I’m with the empress. Everything can wait until tomorrow.”

“Your Majesty, the palace is under attack!”

A thick silence ensues.

I blink. Once. Twice. My ears are playing a trick on me. What did he just say?

“The palace is under attack. They broke through the east gate and are heading this way.”

I jump up. The door bounces off the wall as I yank it open to stare at Gabryl.

Sweat glistens on Gabryl’s forehead. He’s breathing hard, like he has just run across the palace to tell us the news.

My heart drops. I’m too late. Before I even get a chance to do anything, the Nungulians beat me to it. To be fair, I didn’t see this coming. Tryant Rustin has hidden in our empire for decades. I would think he’s more into dissolving the empire from the inside than attacking the palace.

“You want proof? Here is the proof.” I gesture at Gabryl. My eyes lock into Ezra’s. “Tryant Rustin works for our enemy.” Not that saying it will make everything better. We’re still under attack, and from the way the palace guards fall so easily, this is going to be an eventful night.

“Your Majesty.” Gabryl glances at me and immediately drops his gaze to stare at my feet. “It’s Duke Ufran.”

“What’s Duke Ufran?”

“Your father.”

Yes, I know he’s my father.

“He’s the one leading the army of intruders. He and his son,” Gabryl says to my shoes.

For the second time tonight, I don’t comprehend his words. I stare at him until he’s about to shrivel up like a raisin.

“My father wouldn’t …” The sentence never finishes leaving my mouth. Yes, he would, and yes, he could. Considering how much I’ve discovered about him, I shouldn’t be surprised.

I press a hand to my head. Doom sucks the air from the room, making me want to vomit, and the ground shifts under my feet.

“Ursila!” Firm hands steady my shoulders.

I peek at Ezra under my lashes, gauging his response and expression. Despite hearing the news that overturned my world, he doesn’t seem as awestricken as I thought he would. There are creases between his brows, yes, but overall, he remains calm. Too calm.

This must’ve happened in my last life too, albeit a slightly different version without me present. My father didn’t succeed. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gotten beheaded.

A lump grows in the back of my throat. I know how this is all going to end even before it starts.

“Ezra, do you remember what you promised me?” I ask.

He might’ve hesitated for only a second, but it seems to last ages.

“You promised me you would spare House of Ufran.” He took too long, so I remind him.

He opens his mouth. Before he can respond, thousands of lanterns below light up my window.

“Your Majesty, they’re here.” Gabryl rushes to Ezra. “We don’t have time. I’ll distract them, and Your Majesties can leave from the back exit. I—”

“Gabryl,” Ezra cuts him off. “There is no need.”

And there is no time.

The collective brightness of thousands of lanterns makes day out of this dark night. The lights surround my tower on all sides, blocking every exit I know. All too soon, some of those march up the stairs to my room. Leading the troops clothed in black are my father and Ian.

Father stops before Ezra, staring him down with his frown. Ian heads toward me, only to encounter Ezra’s arms blocking his access. Beside Father are many nobles and courtiers, most of whom I recognize as his lackeys. Behind him stand countless men in black tunics.

My heart thumps loud enough for the whole room to hear. I thought I could prevent this from happening, but now it’s too late. Father is about to commit treason, and treason doesn’t go unpunished.

“Ian, I wanted you to come to me, yes, but you went overboard with the company.” I force a smile.

Ian looks at me with concern. Father ignores me completely.

“Ezra Viscent, do you know why I am here today?” Father’s stern expression and unyielding voice are like thunder, rendering my body stiff.

“Pray, tell me.” Ezra stands in front of me like an immovable rock.

“Your father, the late emperor, charged me with the responsibility of overlooking the empire and your reign. As diligent as I have been to the task, I’m afraid I failed him.” His voice rises for the benefit of everyone here, including the nobles who champion him. “You didn’t learn to become a suitable emperor. Instead, you’ve slacked off duties in court.”

“He didn’t.” I step forward from behind Ezra. The person Father was talking about isn’t anything like Ezra. He didn’t see the piles and piles of paper Ezra reads through every day to take care of the affairs of the empire, nor did he know about the numerous meetings Ezra had with his advisors. To say Ezra slacked off is to claim busy bees lazy. “His Majesty is holding up his role just fine.”

“Even Goddess Avinia thought you were unfit to rule,” Father continues like I hadn’t said anything. “You can try to hide it, but the high priest himself told your fortune. If I don’t do anything to change the future, you’re going to be the last Viscent emperor. The empire will end in your hand.”

The prophecy is nothing new. I was there myself when the high priest foretold the future. Yet, to hear it from Father is like thunder roaring in the middle of a calm night. No one else is supposed to know. I hadn’t thought about the possibility that one of the priests or servants could’ve leaked the information.

I steel myself and say with a confident voice. “High Priest Rane also said the future is not set in stone. It can be averted.”

“There are signs of the goddess’s fury already. In the short time you’ve been crowned, an earthquake destroyed a chunk of the capital.” Father doesn’t break eye contact with Ezra.

“This is ridiculous.” Anger seeps into my voice. I’m trying my hardest to prevent House of Ufran from committing treason, yet I might as well be talking to a brick wall for all the good I’m doing. “Natural disasters happen all the time, in every reign. You can’t claim that Goddess Avinia disfavors Ezra just because a portion of the capital crumbled.”

Father finally turns to me. “Ursila, come to me.”

“No!”

The frown on his face deepens. “You know nothing. Our capital is a sacred ground Goddess Avinia especially protects. No natural disaster had stricken the capital until Ezra Viscent became the emperor.”

That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. I take a step toward Father, trying to reason with him, but Ezra’s hand on my shoulder stops me where I am.

“Duke Ufran, what is your proposition then?” Ezra’s voice rings throughout the tower. He’s not loud, but I don’t think anyone has a problem hearing him. “Explain to me why you’re here in the deep of this night.”

For a second, the confidence on Father’s face falters, as if he wasn’t expecting the emperor he’d cornered to still be able to speak without stuttering.

“To appease the goddess and protect the empire, you must relinquish your throne.” Father chooses his words with care.

“To whom? You?” Ezra smirks.

“No, to the next crown prince, your son.”

For the first time tonight, a dumbfounded expression takes over Ezra’s face. “I don’t have a son.”

“I’ve already consulted with the priests in Goddess Avinia’s temple. The child Ursila carries is a healthy boy. He’ll replace you on the throne, and I’ll remain the regent until he’s capable of making sound decisions on his own,” Father announces.

Ezra blinks. Once. Twice. He looks from Father to me, and his gaze slides down my body to my stomach. Something flashes across his face for a short second. I’m not quite sure if it’s joy of finding out he has an heir or reproach that I never told him. My airway constricts, and my chest feels heavy. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to know his thoughts right now! Is he excited to know the existence of our child, like me, or does he resent the child that my father is using against him right now?

I stand frozen to the spot, desperate to find a smile on Ezra’s lips, anything to indicate that he wants our baby and welcomes him as much as I do. But his expression becomes schooled and there is not a crack to reveal his true feelings.

A tinge of hurt shoots straight to my core. Right. Ezra is the most important man to me, but I’m not the wife of his choosing. I bet if it’s his village girl who is pregnant with his son, he wouldn’t be standing there, watching the show like a bystander.

Resentment twists within me, twirling faster and faster like a tornado. Ezra means the world to me, but obviously, it’s not true the other way around. For a moment, I consider giving up. So what if Father takes over control of the empire and makes my son the puppet emperor? It won’t affect me. I’ll still be one of the most important woman in the empire, showered in riches and luxury. But then, Father won’t win. He didn’t in my last life, and it’s foolish to believe things will be different this time around.

“Listen.” I take another step toward Father. “Stop this right now. You can’t win. Goddess Avinia never cast Ezra from her favor. The only thing you’ll accomplish is incriminating everyone with treason. House of Ufran will be ruined by tomorrow, and everyone will be beheaded.”

Some nobles seem to hesitate, but I can tell most don’t believe me.

“I know, because High Priest Rane told my future as well,” I say.

For the first time since he came in, Father gives me his full attention.

My heart overworks itself. I can practically taste the thick silence in the air. Everyone waits for me to continue. Whatever I say next will determine if they’ll hang onto my words like Goddess’s decree or brush me aside for a liar.

“Father, you know Ezra and I went to Goddess Avinia’s temple to wish for the empire’s prosperity. The high priest said Ezra might be the last emperor, but I might change predetermined fate. When I held my hand over the crystal ball, do you know what I saw?” My gaze sweeps through the crowd. “If someone were your eyes and ears in the temple, he saw twirls of light and color, but when I looked into the ball, I saw the future.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Father says to me, not unlike the way he once said ghosts were imaginary and fairies didn’t exist.

“Ezra’s troops will soon trap all of you,” I continue without letting him affect me. “Your men will put up a fight, crippling Ezra’s forces but will nevertheless fall in defeat. Tryant Rustin will throw you in the dungeon, along with everyone here and all of House of Ufran. In a few days, he’ll conduct a trial and announce your crimes. Arrogance and disrespect for the emperor’s regime.” The charges come to my mind like they’ve been imprinted there. “Overstepping authorities. Betraying Viscent Empire to our neighboring kingdoms. And conspiring to overthrow and replace the emperor,” I repeat all the crimes listed on the announcement board that day when I died. All except for my elopement and disgrace, which didn’t happen this time around.

“Rubbish!” Father’s tone is loud and confident. If I didn’t detect the second of hesitation on his face, I would believe he wasn’t at all affected.

“Tryant Rustin will behead everyone in House of Ufran,” I continue. “All two hundred forty-five of us.” Two hundred forty-six if he manages to include me. “The scrolls will be delivered to each city, town, and village, announcing the fall of House of Ufran and listing the inexcusable crimes of our house. And all of you,” I gesture at everyone behind my father, “will be brought to justice.”

The room becomes so quiet that I can hear the crickets crying outside.

Doubt and fear are on more than one noble’s face. Ian furrows his brows and looks outside the window, deep in thought. Then Father sweeps his arm across the air, as though to dispel the echo of my words.

“I’m afraid I might need to find another healer for my daughter,” Father says. “There was always something wrong with her head.”

He did not just say that. “There is nothing wrong with my mind!” Having headaches doesn’t equal insanity. “I’m telling the truth. Back down now, while you still have the chance.”

This is the last line. If Father attacks Ezra, there is no going back. No matter if I mean something to Ezra or not. No emperor would tolerate a usurper and assassin.

“All you are doing is weakening Ezra’s forces.” I want to speak calmly and with reason, but the words fly out, so fast and loud, as if I’m yelling. “You will kill off a good portion of his men and make it easier for our true enemy to dissolve Viscent Empire. Can’t you see? It’s a conspiracy from the very beginning.”

“Pregnancy has clouded the empress’s judgment,” Father announces in a cold tone. “Ian, take your sister out of the way.”

Ian marches toward me. As if on a cue, the soldiers charge forward, straight for Ezra.

“Wait!” The loudness of my voice manages to stop the soldiers for a short second. I seize Ezra’s sleeve. “Ezra, show them! Show them how they’re going to be defeated.”

I can only hear the sound of my heartbeats as he gazes at me for a moment that lasts a century. He has his own troops here. I know he does. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have overpowered my father in my last life. He can call them out now to make Father back off or he can wait until Father oversteps the point of no return and captures everyone here for treason against the crown. One decision, a single turn of events, will determine if House of Ufran gets to live.

I stare into his eyes and can’t breathe. They’re light emerald, cool and calm, like a cobra’s the second before it sweeps down and bites its prey. Father had dominated the court—his court—ever since the late emperor died. This is Ezra’s chance to get rid of Father once and for all. This is his chance to take control of what is rightfully his.

My heart sinks. I can hear the screams of hundreds of people as the executors swing their blades.

A barely audible wail escapes my mouth. It takes everything I have to remain upright and not crumble into a hot mess. Goddess Avinia believed I could change everything, but in the end, I changed nothing. I failed her. I failed House of Ufran. I failed Viscent Empire.

Strength flows from my body. The fingers that grip Ezra’s sleeve so tightly lose their hold. Just as my hand drops to my side, those cool emerald eyes soften and Ezra clasps my hand in his.

He scoops up a porcelain teapot from the table and strolls toward the window, pulling me along with him.

He throws the teapot out the window. The clear shatter of porcelain on the ground makes me jump. As if on a cue, shadows detach from behind the brushes. The shuffle of countless footsteps thunders through the tower. In a blink of an eye, a thick layer of soldiers surrounds Father’s men and a ring of archers stands with their arrows nocked on their bows.

“My guards outnumber yours by a wide margin.” Ezra gestures at the people below.

Father’s face becomes unreadable. Ian furrows his eyebrows. I wonder if Ezra knew about their plans even before he got here. Was that why he was so busy today? Preparing for everything that’ll happen tonight?

“You’re here, with me and my men. I could take you hostage,” Father says.

“This is only the second floor. I could jump down from the window and still survive.”

Father grows silent for a moment. I hold my breath for his reply.

Ezra’s grip on my hand tightens. Ezra is giving Father another chance, a chance he has to take.

I try my best attempt at a smile. “Your Majesty, my father was only joking. Of course he didn’t mean to put an unborn child on the throne.”

Not a soul here would believe what I just said, but no one tears off the facade of peace, for which I’m relieved. It means Father is not hell-bent on going through with his grand plans and Ezra doesn’t have to chop off heads.

“Guards,” Ezra cries. “Escort Duke Ufran and Ian Ufran back to their home. They’re not to leave House of Ufran until further notice. The duke’s men will be held in the dungeon, and everyone else here,”—he gestures at the nobles behind my father—“will return to their houses.”

A flood of palace guards and soldiers marches in. Some gather around Ezra in layers, and some raise their weapons at my father and Ian. Father’s jaw tightens. A vein on the side of his forehead bulges. For a fleeting moment, I’m afraid he’ll seize his last chance and charge at Ezra despite all odds. The moment passes. When Wayne and Veren take their positions on either side of Ezra, everyone knows the result of this uprising is set in stone.

“Duke Ufran, this way.” Wayne jerks the hilt of his broadsword toward the door.

Father’s gaze sweeps through the room, resting on me longer than others, before he walks out with Ian in tow. It’s hard for me to decipher the look on his face when he stared at me. Was it anger that I’d ruined his plans or relief that I’d stopped him in time to salvage the situation? Perhaps, it might be a little of both. I would never know.

Then one by one, all the others leave until only Ezra and I are left.

I can’t resist asking, “What will happen to my father and Ian?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean by you don’t know?” The question might’ve come out sharper than intended. “You’re the emperor.”

“Sometimes the emperor doesn’t have the final say in everything. The court will know about this by tomorrow.”

Heat seeps from my body. I don’t need a brain to know what the courtiers and Tryant Rustin would do. Tryant Rustin would want nothing less than my father’s and Ian’s lives. Treason is punishable by death and extendable to the traitor’s entire family. Perhaps not everyone in House of Ufran will lose his head, but some might, like Ian and Father.

I saved Ezra from expending his men but I didn’t save everyone in House of Ufran. And Tryant Rustin … how is it fair that he gets away with everything?

“Ursila, is it true?” Ezra takes both of my shoulders in his hands, stopping me in the middle of frantic pacing.

“What?”

“You’re with child?” If I had questions about whether he was pleased with my pregnancy, the doubt dissipates under his broad grin.

The happiness on his face shines so brightly that it’s contagious. For a brief moment, I smile back at him like a carefree fool until reality slams me awake.

Ian’s and my father’s fates are undetermined. Tryant Rustin still lurks over me, like doom, overshadowing everything. If I don’t get rid of him, my world will collapse.

I resume my pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. My dress swirls around my ankles like angry fire. Ezra says something to me, but I don’t hear a word of it.

“If you want, you can come.”

“What?

“Tomorrow’s court.”

Why would I want to … oh, wait. Courtiers and nobles are a sneaky bunch. I have no doubt the palace is infiltrated with their eyes and ears. Even if Ezra doesn’t announce what happened during tomorrow’s court, everyone who is anyone would already know. Decisions will be passed and fates will be sealed.

“I will go,” I say.

Ezra’s smile is a little tight, just like the tension in my chest. He orders food and feeds me spoonful by spoonful. I open my mouth in reflex, swallowing whatever he stuffs inside. Even after the servants clear the dishes, I have no idea what I ate or how the food tasted.

He steers me to the bed and lowers me onto the sheets. “Sleep. Everything will be fine.”

No, nothing is fine. Both of us know it, but neither will speak of it. Tomorrow, the axe will fall. Whether House of Ufran can escape alive remains to be seen.

Chapter 19

I lie awake with my eyes closed until the first rays of the sun warm my cheeks. When Ezra gets up to prepare for the morning court, I climb out of the bed and ask Reenan to dress me for the battle.

The black dress with frills of chiffon fluttering like dark fire suit my mood, and the tiara of onyx and silver completes the look. In the mirror, the black brings out my fair skin and the gleam of the stone reflects off the coldness of my eyes.

I force food down my throat even though I’m not hungry. Ezra glances at me multiple times during the course of breakfast, but he remains silent. He knows as well as I do that words of comfort mean nothing without certainty.

We go to the throne room on an oversized sedan chair large enough to fit both of us comfortably. He holds my hands the entire way, squeezing them with firm pressure.

It’s still early. The sun has barely started its ascent in the sky, and the morning chill has not been offset by the warmth of the day. Yet when Ezra and I stroll into the throne room, the room is already overcrowded with courtiers.

“His and Her Majesty, emperor and empress of Viscent Empire,” the guard outside the room announces as we enter. His deep voice carries wide. The hushed whispers and heated debates die down immediately following his words. Everyone scrambles to find his place.

All eyes are on us. I don’t need to look at the courtiers to know they’re gaping at me. I’ve been in the throne room before, but only when it was used as an entertainment center for parties and dinners, never during morning courts. Emperors’ harems don’t attend those. They’re forbidden to influence decisions of the empire or sway the opinions of the court, and the empress is no exception. Many nobles have sent their daughters into the palace to do just that, in a subconscious and underhanded way, but none dares to walk into the throne room when court is in session.

I hold my head high, and my gaze focuses straight ahead at the flight of steps leading to the throne. My dress flares out like waves of black flames on the red-carpeted floor. At the edge of the beautifully carved throne, I spin around and lower myself onto the seat, right next to Ezra.

For a second, no one makes a sound. The lines of courtiers and nobles seem to be glued to their spots, backs erect and eyes glaring at me. I notice with an afterthought that the chair halfway to the throne where my father usually sat is empty.

Then, a man with a hunched back and white beard trailing down his chest steps to the right of his line. If I remember correctly, that’s Teal, minister of etiquette.

“Your Majesty, please have Her Majesty return to her tower so we can begin the morning court,” Teal says.

Ira jumps out of nowhere and settles on Ezra’s lap. Ezra strokes the fox as he says, “We can begin right now.”

“Your Majesty, you might not be familiar with all the rules, considering your inexperience, but no woman, empress or not, can preside over the morning court.” Teal’s long beard twitches as he enunciates every syllable.

“I don’t remember reading that particular rule in the book of laws.” Ezra’s detached voice contrasts with the minister of etiquette’s heated words.

“Some things are so obvious that they don’t need to be written down. It’s history, Your Majesty. The way things are done for hundreds of years.” Teal’s face flushes.

“Circumstances change. Situations become different.”

“But Your Majesty—”

“I am more interested in writing history, not following history.” Ezra’s tone is still his usual calm, but the edge to his voice is undeniable. “Begin the morning court.”

Teal glares at Ezra for a long moment. Then he shakes his head with disapproval and returns to his position at the head of the second line, mumbling something under his breath.

No one says anything for the longest time. The huge room is so quiet that I swear I can hear someone gulping in excitement or fear.

“If there is nothing significant to discuss today, then I announce the court adjourned,” Ezra says.

“Your Majesty.” The courtier standing behind Tryant Rustin takes a step to the right of his line. “I heard Duke Ufran invaded the palace last night, attempting to usurp the throne. Has Your Majesty reached a suitable punishment for House of Ufran?”

Ezra glances at the redheaded courtier. “A night has barely passed, and you already know what happened in my palace.”

The courtier’s face flushes as red as his hair. “I just happened to overhear some rumors, Your Majesty.”

“Rumors are oftentimes less than the truth.” Ezra strokes Ira’s head in a soothing, repetitive manner. “I thought you were smart enough to know that.”

The courtier opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. If possible, his face turns even redder. He returns back to his position as Tryant Rustin steps to the right.

“Your Majesty, the commotion of a troop of men behind Duke Ufran was hardly a discreet display,” Tryant says. “I beg Your Majesty to clarify what happened last night.”

My hands tighten around my dress.

“Duke Ufran was overexcited about a misunderstanding,” Ezra says.

“And what misunderstanding are we talking about?” Tryant Rustin raises an eyebrow.

“He was concerned for the empress, who, unbeknownst to me, is pregnant with my first prince or princess.”

Someone sucks in a breath at Ezra’s words. More than one person stares at my flat stomach. Even Tryant Rustin has a surprised look on his face.

“Even if Her Majesty is pregnant, it doesn’t warrant Duke Ufran’s behavior.” Tryant Rustin blinks away his shock.

“Forgive an overzealous father who was concerned for his daughter.”

“Holding an army within the capital is a crime. Leading the army into the palace is treason, no matter the reason.” Tryant Rustin’s voice booms throughout the room, like he’s passing one of his judgments now.

“That is why all courtiers from House of Ufran will be relieved of their duties. House of Ufran’s dukedom will be forfeited. No one in House of Ufran will be allowed to hold a court position for the next three generations. And the men gathered by Duke Ufran will be forced to dissolve.”

I listen with rapt attention to Ezra’s punishment for my house. No one will be beheaded in this version of our punishment. No one will die.

“Banishment from court is a rather light punishment for treason, Your Majesty.” Tryant Rustin stands up to his full height. Unlike Ezra, his eyes stare directly into Ezra’s and can bore a hole through him. “As your minister of justice, it’s my duty to advise you of proper penalties. Treason is punishable by death and extendable to the traitor’s entire family. You have to take treason seriously and set a precedent to dissuade future occurrences. Everyone in House of Ufran has to be beheaded. No one must be spared.”

Hot anger boils my blood. I snap my attention to Tryant Rustin. “By everyone, I don’t suppose it includes me and the unborn prince or princess?” I hold a hand over my stomach.

Tryant Rustin sneers in a subtle way. “The child inside you might not be a prince or princess.”

“What does that mean?”

If Ezra didn’t grab my arm, I would’ve jumped down the stairs and slapped the smirk off Tryant Rustin’s face.

“I already passed my judgment. The matter is settled,” Ezra says. “If there is nothing else, the court is adjourned.”

Ezra doesn’t wait for anyone to respond. He stands, pulling me up from the throne and heading down the stairs, seemingly oblivious to the stares of disapproval from the courtiers.

And just like that, all the fear and uncertainty churning my stomach disappear. If there were not so many people around, I would throw myself into his arms.

“Your Majesty.” Tryant Rustin’s tone turns cold. “I have one other matter to discuss before you leave.”

“And what might that be?” Ezra stops at the edge of the dais.

“Recently, I’ve heard some interesting rumors that I need Your Majesty to clarify.”

“Another rumor?”

“Our capital had not been stricken with a natural disaster for over a hundred years.” Tryant Rustin’s eyes are sharp enough to pierce through stone.

I don’t like where this is going.

“The high priest himself said the empire would end in Your Majesty’s hand.”

That again! Did the whole court find out about the prophecy? I squeeze Ezra’s fingers to give him strength. “He also said I have the power to change fate.”

I might as well be talking to a wall for all the response I get. If Tryant Rustin heard me, he gave no indication.

“Some said you are not the real Ezra Viscent. Goddess Avinia is angry an imposter sits on the throne of the empire she protects. That’s the real reason behind the earthquake.” Tryant Rustin’s words ring throughout the room.

It takes me a minute to recover from shock. “What are you saying? Are you out of your mind?” I bellow. “You are the minister of justice. Tell me then, minister of justice, what is the punishment for libel against the crown?”

Tryant Rustin smiles in a way that makes me sick to my stomach. “Of course, I don’t believe that. But for the sake of appeasing the rumors, can Your Majesty prove that you are the late empress’s son?”

I heave out an agitated breath. “His Majesty’s identity was proven two years ago. He does not need to prove himself again every time rumor circulates in the palace or court.” Although I wasn’t there when the evidences of Ezra’s identity were brought forth to the court, I know what they are. Ezra has Quan’s testimony, a glowing red stone the late emperor gave to his son, a scar in the right location, and a birthmark on his back.

“A servant’s testimony could be bribed.” Tryant Rustin looks straight into Ezra’s eyes. “The dragon stone could be stolen. The scar on your forearm could be self-inflicted. It wasn’t hard to find out about the scar if Quan was on your side.”

Murmurs spread throughout the room. The courtiers below bend their heads to consult with the people closest to them. Now and then, one of them looks up at us with a weird light in his eyes.

Heat flushes through me and threatens to blow open my head. My pulse pounds, fast and furious. “What about the royal birthmark? Don’t tell me the birthmark is a coincidence too.” No one other than the royal family would have the characteristic star-shaped birthmark on his back. I’ve seen the mark on Ezra several times. There is no denying that Ezra is who he said he is.

“Where is the birthmark?” Tryant Rustin raises an eyebrow.

I look at Ezra while I think of the best way to show someone his birthmark.

Before I come up with an idea, Ezra drops his hand. Ira jumps from his arm and lands on the carpeted floor.

“This is the last time I will show anyone the birthmark,” Ezra says. He then turns around to face his throne and lowers his robe.

His shoulders are strong but not bulky. His skin is deliciously tanned, and the dip of his back disappears down the bunched-up black robes on his arms. Even after being his empress for so long, I still can’t get used to the perfection of his face and body.

Wait. Something is missing.

“Where is that birthmark, Your Majesty?” Tryant Rustin can’t suppress the glee from his tone.

The birthmark!

Ezra can’t see his own back, so he looks to me for an answer.

I stare at his back, as though if I gaze long enough, the birthmark that was there would show itself again.

“It was there before,” I mumble to no one in particular. “I swear. I saw it many times.”

But Tryant Rustin doesn’t listen to what I have to say. He points his finger at Ezra and shouts, “You’re not our emperor. Who are you?”

Ezra shrugs his robe back up and straightens his clothes. He’s still looking at me, but like him, I don’t know what happened.

“He’s Ezra, the emperor of Viscent Empire. He’s Ezra, I swear,” I repeat the words. There is no way he’s not him. No way. He had the birthmark. It’s just gone now, for some reason.

“What happened to our real emperor? Since when did you replace him?” Tryant rants off questions infused with fury and rage. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve believed him.

The courtiers and nobles below look from Tryant Rustin to Ezra. Some are furious, like Tryant, some look confused, and others gleeful. Even Ezra’s closest supporters have an astonished expression on their faces. I stand there, frozen to my spot, trying to comfort Ezra but feeling less than confident myself.

“Guards!” Tryant makes a gesture. Guards spill out of nowhere and march up the stairs to the throne.

“How dare you!” I snap at the guards closing in on us. “He’s the emperor. If you so much as touch him, I’ll throw you into the dungeon for the rest of your lives.”

A few of the guards hesitate.

“What are you waiting for? He’s an imposter, no emperor of ours. Goddess Avinia was trying to warn us with the earthquake,” Tryant Rustin says.

I don’t think I’ve hated anyone more than I hate him right now. Some of the guards are still unsure, but a couple are already upon us.

I stumble back, glaring at the guards, engraving their faces into my memory. Those are Tryant’s men, I have no doubt about that. No emperor’s guards would follow Tryant’s command without question. Now that I think about it, everything that happened since we walked in was staged for this exact moment.

Was that how Viscent Empire ended in my last life? Tryant Rustin challenged Ezra’s identity and right to rule. Even if not everyone believed him, a seed of doubt was planted in people’s minds. That seed grew and flourished. With the right push and suggestions, the majority believed the emperor on the throne shouldn’t be there. It’s not surprising how fast an empire could dissolve after that. No one could be Ezra’s successor because he was the last of his line. All of this is happening now, only sooner this time around.

My brain turns into mush. If Tryant Rustin holds Ezra captive, he won’t live to prove his innocence. The thought of what Tryant could do to him wrings my heart.

“Let them take me. I’ll find a way out. You have nothing to do with this,” Ezra says.

“No!” I hold onto him like a leech clinging to skin.

“They can’t do anything to me. They don’t have enough proof.”

He’s wrong. Tryant Rustin can. Once Ezra is in the dungeon, he’s as good as dead. Tryant Rustin doesn’t need his cover anymore. He can just murder or poison Ezra and flee to Nungul Empire. And then the ice emperor who came back for me in the cave would be no more.

For the first time since Draven healed me, my head hurts, albeit not the same intensity as before. I already know how all of this is going to end. Tryant Rustin will kill Ezra, House of Ufran won’t be spared, and no one will allow me and my baby to live. Nothing will change. I won’t make any difference, in my last life or this life. The empire will end, and everyone I care about will die.

“Ursila, are you all right?” Ezra steadies me, sitting both of us down on the throne, probably for the last time.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” My body trembles despite myself.

“What for?”

The guards are in front of our faces. Their weapons drawn, ready to take us by force. Yet his tone is still soft. My heart falls into pieces as he gathers me to his chest and strokes my back with utmost tenderness.

“I failed you. I failed Goddess Avinia and Viscent Empire.” I could barely keep the tremor from my voice. Goddess Avinia was wrong to trust me. If she gave the second chance at life to someone else, someone better and smarter, no one would have to die. Guilt stabs my heart. Because of me, Viscent Empire will cease to exist. “If someone else were in my place—”

“There is no one else I would rather have as my empress.” His tone is strong, and his reply comes out without a second thought.

A fine mist wets my vision. In the short second that I gaze into his eyes, my two lives replay in my mind. I still remember the time he failed to show up in our wedding bed, making me the laughingstock of the palace, and the disappointment when he practically ignored me. But then he came back for me in the cave. He would never know how relieved and happy I was when I saw him. I wasn’t the empress he never wanted, and he wasn’t the ice emperor who only has a handsome face.

A tear rolls down my face, but my lips curve into a smile. Faces and scenes flash across my mind, much like the way they did the moment before I died in my last life. Ezra’s. Draven’s. Serene’s.

Draven … Serene …

I remember something, and I yell just before the guards grab us. “Wait!”

“What is it now, Your Majesty?” Tryant Rustin sneers.

“His Majesty’s birthmark was there. Some of the royal healers had seen it, and so had I and the late emperor,” I say.

“This again? We’ve just seen its absence a moment ago. This imposter played a trick on the late emperor and the royal healers.”

“No. You played a trick to make it disappear.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you are a spy for Nungul Empire!” I finally say it, aloud, in front of the whole court. With or without evidence, it feels good.

His expression freezes for a moment. Then he throws back his head and laughs. “Ursila Ufran has gone mad. She thinks she can save House of Ufran and her husband by slandering me.” He might believe he tricked everyone, but the stiffness of his body doesn’t escape my notice.

“Your Majesty, what proof do you have?” The handsome minister of war steps forward. He looks at me with his usual coolness, but his gaze is too eager. I can tell he wants to believe me. He, among some others, is Ezra’s closest supporter. There are many who don’t want Ezra replaced, especially when there is no one to replace him with.

“Go fetch the royal healer, Draven, from the dungeon,” I say.

“There is no need to follow the orders of a woman who is clearly out of her mind,” Tryant bellows.

Veren ignores him and says something to one of the guards.

I sit there, clutching Ezra’s hand and trying to look confident even when anxiety and doubt chew my insides. An eternity must have passed before the guard returns with Draven.

“Your Majesties.” Draven bows before us. He looks worse for wear, but other than his wrinkled clothes and the shadows under his eyes, there are no visible injuries. Even so, I cringe. He was thrown into the dungeon because of me, and I couldn’t get him out until now.

“Draven, is it?” Veren asks.

“Yes.”

“Her Majesty has a question for you.” Veren tilts his chin at me.

My stomach does a flip-flop when Draven looks at me with his dark hazel eyes. I’m not sure if there is blame or resentment in their depths. What if he refuses to tell the truth just to get even with me? Worse, what if his answer is not the one I want?

I take a shaking breath. No time to dwell on that. The whole court is watching.

“Draven, I oversaw you giving a potion to Serene Rustin. The potion is supposed to erase a birthmark,” I say. Please, let this be what I think it is.

Draven gazes at me. “Yes, I do remember that.”

“What happens to a birthmark after using the potion?”

Draven furrows his brows. “It was a salve, not a potion. It was supposed to even out the skin tone to mask a birthmark or any skin flaws.”

My heart leaps. “Is there a way to undo the effect of the salve?”

“Why would anyone want to do that?”

“Is there a way?” I lean on the edge of my seat.

His lashes cover parts of his eyes, like the way they always do when he muses over a complicated concoction problem.

I might’ve forgotten to breathe as I wait for his answer.

“This is nonsense. We shouldn’t allow a traitor’s daughter to—” Tryant Rustin says.

“Shut up!” I cry. Draven is thinking. I swear I will kick his spy ass all the way to Nungul Empire if he interrupts Draven’s train of thought again.

“I guess,” Draven finally says, “you can try washing the area with roseterry and hazelwood water.”

Hope explodes in my chest. I beam at Ezra. Without waiting for me to command, Veren orders a guard to fetch the two ingredients.

The guards can’t come back soon enough. When one of them carries a silver bowl of yellowish liquid, I dab my handkerchief in it and wash the spot on Ezra’s back where I remember seeing the star-shaped birthmark.

At first, nothing happens. I swallow the lump in my throat and wipe harder, dipping my handkerchief into the bowl again and again for more liquid. The bowl is half gone, and the birthmark still didn’t show up. My heart sinks. My hands turn stiff. I’m aware of all the eyes on me, trying to peer around my fingers to Ezra’s back. When the last drop of the liquid wrings from my handkerchief, I want to cry. Nothing. Nothing. No—

I squint at Ezra’s back, which has turned red from my overzealous scrubbing. There, in the middle of the inflamed skin, is an outline of a star. It’s not nearly as pronounced as before, but it’s there.

I laugh through my tears. “It’s here. This is the birthmark Ezra lost.” My gaze sweeps down to the courtiers. I doubt any one of them can see the faint outline of a birthmark from where they are, but that doesn’t prevent me from showing them. Veren and Wayne climb the steps to the throne to look at the birthmark. Once they’re done, I pull the robe back over Ezra’s shoulders.

“Tryant Rustin, what did you say was the punishment for treason?” Veren spins around to look down at Tryant Rustin. “Discrediting the emperor would be categorized under treason, don’t you think?”

Fury flashes across Tryant Rustin’s face. He bites his teeth and glares at me. For a second, I thought he’s going to jump at me like a mad dog. The moment passes, and he composes himself again. “Your Majesty, forgive me. I was trying to dispel a rumor.”

Dispel, my ass! He almost pulled Ezra down from his throne. I bet everything I own that he somehow bribed one of the healers to smear the salve on Ezra’s back. Ezra was injured recently, and some of the healers would have the chance.

Ira leaps back onto Ezra’s lap. For the first time since we came in, Ezra looks directly at Tryant Rustin. His attention is as heavy as the weight of a mountain. Even I, who am not a source of his anger and subject of his attention, feel it difficult to draw in breaths. Tryant Rustin looks visibly uncomfortable as he shifts his legs.

“Your Majesty.” Tryant Rustin clears his throat. “As your minister of justice, I was only acting out of duty to clear your name and prove you’re our rightful emperor.”

I really don’t understand how this man is still able to stay composed as he tells lie after lie.

“I have no more to say,” Tryant Rustin continues. “If Your Majesty has no other agenda for the court, we can—”

“Your doubt about my rightfulness is settled.” The throne room turns noticeably colder as Ezra narrows his eyes on Tryant Rustin. “But my empress’s claim of your identity is still open for debate. She said you are a spy for our enemy empire.”

“Your Majesty, that is outrageous! I have been a member of this court for almost twenty years and the minister of justice for the last five years. It’s a crime to slander a courtier without proof.”

“Just like it’s a crime to slander the emperor without evidence?” I arch an eyebrow.

Tryant Rustin’s face turns beet red. But it takes him only a few seconds to pull himself together. “Very well. Your Majesty accused me of being a spy. I answer to the charge. You can now present the evidence to support your accusation.”

I open my mouth to rant out everything I know. Serene’s eye color. Her ability to read another language. Her reaction when I mentioned Nungul Empire. Tryant Rustin’s record in the palace dossier. There are so many things I can say, but nothing comes out. Serene’s eye color is unusual in Viscent Empire but not nonexistent. She could be taught another language as a part of her education. No one else saw her reaction when I talked to her. And Tryant Rustin’s family history might be the most uninteresting one in the palace dossier. That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a spy.

Ezra was right. I don’t have any evidence to incriminate his minister of justice.

“The evidence is in his house. I request a search warrant to his residence,” I say, refusing to back down and admit I am wrong. It’s now or never. Today, I either get rid of the real threat in Ezra’s court or allow this worm to continue to stay, looking for another opportunity to dissolve Viscent Empire. The next time, Ezra and I might not be as lucky.

“Your Majesty, ordering a search warrant to a minister’s house is not a light matter. In the two hundred years of Viscent Empire history, this hasn’t been done without evidence. I refuse to be searched.”

Refuse? He can’t refuse! How is it fair that he gets to accuse Ezra but I don’t get to accuse him? “I said I have evidence. It’s in your home.” If looks can kill, Tryant Rustin would die a hundred times over.

“And what if you find nothing?” Tryant Rustin sneers.

“I’ll find something.”

“What if you find nothing?” he repeats.

“Then I’ll conduct a public apology.”

“That is hardly an acceptable punishment.”

“Then I’ll relinquish my title and never return to the palace!” My words echo off the walls of the throne room. The moment I say it, I regret the slip of my tongue.

Ezra squeezes my hand so hard that it hurts. “The empress does not mean what she said.”

“The emperor’s and empress’s words represent Viscent Empire. Are you saying everything you promise doesn’t count, Your Majesty?” Tryant Rustin smirks.

“Of course not.” I can’t back down now. If I don’t order a search through his house today, he’ll hide or destroy all the evidence. It’ll be practically impossible to expose him at a later date. “Wayne, go search Tryant Rustin’s house thoroughly.”

There is not a hint of worry on Tryant Rustin’s face when Wayne leads several guards to do my bidding. My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. The more I glare at his face, the sicker I feel. He can’t possibly clean up everything. There has to be a stray letter he hadn’t burned or a token from Nungul Empire he forgot to hide. If a person did something, he is bound to leave unintentional traces. Right?

It’s well after lunch hour, but no one leaves. All wait to see whether the minister of justice will be incriminated or the empress banned from the palace. Even Ezra doesn’t look happy.

Wayne comes back hours later. I couldn’t tell from his expression whether he found something. My heart continues to sink. It’s not until this moment that I realize the significance of my words. If Wayne didn’t find anything, I would be forced to leave the man I grew to love. Yes, I love him. Ever since he came back for me in the cave. Ever since he shielded me from harm with his own body and the tender way he fed me food, one spoonful at a time. True love does exist. I just hadn’t found it until now.

“Your Majesty, I—” Wayne says.

“Wait.” I jump up from my seat. “Tell me first.”

He hesitates for a moment before he climbs the stairs to the dais. I pull him aside while he whispers in my ear.

I’m glad I’m facing the throne and not the courtiers down below, for the heartbreak on my face would’ve told everyone what Wayne just said. My eyes catch Ezra’s and I want to cry.

He found nothing. Nothing at all!

I want to scream at him. Did he fail to turn Tryant Rustin’s house upside down? Did he look at every page of books or discover a secret room like the one in House of Ufran?

I force myself to swallow the lump in my throat, knowing I can’t blame him. Tryant Rustin’s expression should have given me the clues. He either burned all the evidence before he came to court today or communicated with Nungul Empire in a location other than his house.

Not everything is lost, I tell myself. The world didn’t fall down, so there is no need for this depression. I promised to give up my position as the empress and to banish myself from the palace. I didn’t promise to never see Ezra or stop loving him. If worst comes to worst, I could live just outside the palace and wait for Ezra to visit me whenever he has the chance.

I take several deep breaths and pull myself together. Before I have to resort to that, there is one more thing I want to try.

“Tryant Rustin, what do you have to say for yourself?” I spin around and march to the edge of the dais, putting on my most haughty mask.

“I don’t know what you mean, Your Majesty.” He looks genuinely confused.

“Wayne found some letters written in Nungulian,” I say with such confidence that I almost believe myself. Wayne gives me a questioning look, but other than that, he remains quiet, for which I’m grateful.

“That’s not possible!” Tryant Rustin bellows. “There is nothing in my house.”

“There is nothing in your house, but there is something in your daughter’s suite. Tell me, minister of justice, why is your daughter communicating with Nungul Empire, in Nungulian?”

The expression on Tryant Rustin’s face freezes for a fleeting second. “You didn’t order Wayne to search my daughter’s suite.”

“But I did. I told a guard to send him a message afterward.” I only talked to someone to fetch me water while we waited for Wayne, but Tryant Rustin doesn’t need to know the details of my conversation.

“Where is the letter? Let me see it.”

“So you can accidentally destroy it?”

He reels back on his heels. “There is no letter, is there? You made it up.”

My heart forgets to beat. I hope I still hold up a façade of confidence. “Wayne described it to me just now. The parchment has a yellowish tint.” I try to remember what the letter looked like in my last life. “There is not a word written on it.”

Tryant Rustin’s face turns pale. “And you try to incriminate me with a wordless paper?”

I tilt my head back. “I once saw Serene holding a letter over the flame of a candle. Maybe the words would show up that way. Shall we try?”

Tryant Rustin’s composure crumbles. “So what if Serene wrote to someone in Nungul Empire? She might have a Nungulian friend. I have no knowledge of this. If I do, I would have forbidden her to do that.”

Air rushes to my lungs. “So you’re telling me your daughter wrote to someone in Nungul Empire out of friendliness? Minister of justice, when you write to a friend, do you use invisible ink that only shows up when heated?”

His face flushes red. He looks like a frog has just jumped into his mouth and gotten stuck in his throat.

“Veren!” I cry before Tryant Rustin can recover. “You are the minister of war, do you know some Nungulian?”

Veren steps forward with laughter in his eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Go read the letter Wayne found. The adjoining room should have the candles you need. Come back and tell everyone whether Tryant Rustin is a spy for Nungul Empire.” I look at Veren in the eye. “Be sure to read it carefully, line by line. Connect it with everything that had happened and everything our minister of justice has done. The future and survival of Viscent Empire rest in your hands.”

The lightness in his expression turns sober. I catch him exchanging a look with Ezra. “I will, Your Majesty.” I don’t know if he said that to me or Ezra.

Veren and Wayne disappear behind the door of an adjacent room. If not for all the eyes on me, I would be pacing the dais back and forth until I wear out the red carpet. What if the minister of war and Wayne didn’t get my message? What if they don’t believe me or are unwilling to lie for me?

“Guards!” All traces of a smile are gone from Veren’s lips. He barks his orders like a general commanding his troops. “Capture Tryant Rustin.”

Almost all guards in the room race toward Tryant Rustin. Some surround him in a stance of protection—I recognize those as the same ones who tried to seize Ezra and me—and some raise their weapons toward him in an attempt to catch him.

Despite the chaos down below, my heart settles in my chest.

“Tryant Rustin, what do you have to say for yourself?” Ezra strolls to my side at the edge of the dais.

Tryant Rustin glances at the layers of guards that outnumber his. The confidence holding up his shoulders collapses. His eyes reflect the wildness of a cornered tiger. If looks could kill, he would’ve bored many holes through my body. “Twenty years! I’ve wasted twenty years here. If not for you, I would return to Nungul Empire as a hero who brought down an empire.”

It’s not until this moment that I truly let go of the breath I was holding. He admitted to his crime. Finally, no one can claim I don’t have evidence.

“You were the minister of justice in Viscent Empire. You could’ve chosen to forget Nungul Empire and become true to His Majesty.” I don’t understand what else could motivate him. In Viscent Empire, he has power, influence, and wealth, essentially everything a man could want. I doubt Nungul Empire could give him more than he already has.

Tryant Rustin gives me a disgusted look as if the mere sight of me is an insult to his eyes. “Viscent soldiers killed my parents and brother. I was an orphan before I learned to hold a pen. But of course you wouldn’t understand what it means to be true to one’s family and country.”

I try not to let him get to me. He knows nothing. I didn’t betray my family. I saved them. If not for me, everyone in House of Ufran would die. Only a fool would follow and support my father’s plans knowing, for sure, he would fail utterly and completely.

Tryant Rustin is not a fool. He did have a chance to bring down Viscent Empire. I can’t say I like him any better, but the sharpness of his eyes and the lines on his face don’t look as ugly as before. Perhaps, if circumstances were different, I could grow to understand the man who has the guts, patience, and intelligence to bring down an empire.

Tryant Rustin and his guards are making a last-ditch attempt at escape, but even before watching to the end, I know they won’t succeed. Tryant Rustin’s time is over, and Ezra’s and my time has just begun.

“Come.” Ezra holds out a hand. The warmth in his eyes melts my insides. “You’re tired.”

A beam splits my face as I lean against him. Together, we watch Wayne and Veren overpower Tryant Rustin’s guards and seize the former minister of justice in a tight grip. They drag Tryant Rustin out the throne room, away from our sight.

“What will happen to Tryant Rustin and Serene?” I ask.

Ezra doesn’t reply, but I could guess. Like Tryant Rustin always said, treason to the crown is punishable by death.

Then the courtiers excuse themselves, one by one. By tomorrow, I’m sure this bit of gossip will spread over the capital like a plague. They bow to Ezra and me before they leave. I could’ve imagined it, but their bows are deeper than usual, and the looks on some of their faces when they talk to me are different from before. Contempt and disdain are replaced by awe and respect. Even the minister of etiquette mumbles something about how we are fortunate to call Tryant Rustin out for his lie, albeit empresses really shouldn’t participate in politics and it’s awfully improper for me to lean on Ezra in public.

The last person to leave is Draven.

“Your Majesties.” Draven bows before us. Fatigue dulls his handsome face. When he raises his head to look at Ezra and me, his eyes dim. “I am glad we were able to expose a Nungulian spy before any real damage was done.”

Ezra grunts.

“I vouch on my honor that we did nothing inappropriate in Her Majesty’s tower,” Draven continues.

Ezra looks at him long and hard. At last, he says, “I know.”

“If you need me to go back to the dungeon—”

“It’s no longer necessary. Thank you for your help.”

“If I’m free to go, I wish to relinquish my position as a royal healer.” Draven keeps his gaze on Ezra without once looking in my direction.

I want to ask why, but I clamp my mouth shut just in time. I can guess why. It’ll be awkward for all three of us to live inside the palace. The palace stretches far and wide, but it’s too small for us. If Draven still has feelings for me, it would be torture for him to be so close to Ezra and me.

“Granted,” Ezra says.

And then Draven leaves. His robe flutters behind him as he spins and makes his way to the door. Just when he steps over the threshold, he glances back at me. It’s too far away for me to see his expressions but his gaze lingers for a moment before he turns away and disappears down the hallway.

A flurry of emotions erupts from my chest. There is a feeling of dejection, like I’ve lost someone who had been an integral part of my life for so long. Mixed with that is relief and happiness. I didn’t fail Goddess Avinia and Viscent Empire. Against all odds, I did it. I ensured the survival of House of Ufran and Ezra’s place on the throne. Even the courtiers, most of whom had disapproved of me, are not as antagonistic toward me as before. There’s hope. This moment marks the beginning of something new, a lifetime that won’t end in a year and a future that includes the man I love and a child I never had.

Ira barks at me. The sudden sound snaps me out of my thoughts. I stare down at his pointy teeth and glassy eyes. Despite myself, I yelp and stumble back. The gleam of his teeth reminds me of the little white puppy from years ago. My calf, which suffered the bite, aches at the recollection. The longer I stare at Ira, the more he resembles the puppy. White fluffy fur … sparkling eyes … drool dripping down sharp teeth … and the slight tilt of his head.

“Ira!” Ezra bends down, and the fox jumps into his arms. When he stands, the memory from many years ago merges with the man and the fox in front of me. There was a boy—the most beautiful boy I had ever seen—and the puppy I dumped into his arms. The fox whimpers. His paws curve around Ezra’s arm and his head pops out above, just like the stance in my memory of the boy and the puppy.

At that moment, I know.

“Ezra, how long have we known each other?” I raise my head and gaze into his eyes.

“Eight years.” He beams at me.

“How did we meet?” My heart pounds, loud enough for the world to hear.

“You defended me from a bully.”

“I was your village girl?”

He only smiles, but I already know the answer. The girl who had become a thorn in my chest is myself. An unexplainable relief and happiness stretch my lips. I was the girl, and there is no one else.

Then a thought crosses my mind, dulling the thrill. He loves the girl he met years ago, a girl he barely knows. He loves who he thought I was.

“I grew to love you before I realized you are her.” I must have voiced the doubt, because he lowers his head and touches his forehead to mine. “I tried to deny it. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His voice is so soft, like a caress.

“Really?” My smile must have been brighter than the sun.

He wraps his arms around me, drawing me tightly against his chest. “Don’t ever promise anyone you will leave me,” he whispers in my ear. His hot breath sends a shot of warmth throughout my body.

I want to explain I didn’t promise that. I only said I would give up my position as the empress. But he doesn’t give me the chance. His mouth dips down to take mine, and I forget everything else.

Later, we snuggle in my bed, and he tells me again the story of how we met. I lie in his arms, listening to his sexy voice dispelling the quietness of the night, and decide that one day, I’ll tell him my story, the one about a girl who received a second chance at love.

THE END

Dear Reader

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About the Author

Kassandra Lynn tells herself a bedtime story every night. When the plot gets too complicated and the cast overwhelming, she has to write them down into books that she hopes you will enjoy.

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