Chapter 2

I suddenly remembered that year. The Declan family was unjustly imprisoned, the men condemned to execution, the women exiled.

I begged everyone in the court, but they all shunned the Declan family. Even Seraphina merely watched me, smiling indifferently, when she heard the news.

"The Declan family is a lost cause now. What reason is there for a princess like me to save them?"

I silently dug my nails into my palms, saying nothing.

When the Declan family held power, she flaunted Declan's affection. Everyone in the Royal City knew of their mutual love, a match seemingly perfect, needing only a marriage contract.

Overnight, they became outcasts.

How utterly ironic.

Later, I knelt before my father, the Emperor, for an entire night, begging him to grant Declan to me.

I feigned stubbornness, my tone spoiled, "Declan always hated me. He threw away my sachet, mocked my handwriting, and shamed me in front of all the ladies of the city."

I scoffed, "Now the Declan family has betrayed the crown, a crime deserving of death. Wouldn't forcing him to be my personal attendant be an even greater humiliation for the Declan name?"

"Besides, keeping him alive would only showcase Your Majesty's benevolence to the world."

I pouted, charmingly pleading with my father, "I grew up without a mother, Father. You are the only one I can rely on. Please, grant your humble daughter this wish."

But in truth, I was not my father's most beloved daughter.

Before he ascended the throne, my mother had been his favorite concubine.

But monarchs are inherently suspicious, tolerating no powerful in-laws.

Because he feared my grandfather's military command, my mother lived on thin ice in the palace. A framed poisoning incident led to her demotion, and she lost all favor.

As the daughter of a disgraced concubine, I was neglected and unloved from childhood.

The Declan family had been loyal for generations. Perhaps my father worried that their ruin would stir public unrest, or perhaps he recalled the faint affection he once held for my mother when he was merely a prince.

He granted my request.

When I brought Declan out of the royal dungeons, he was burning with fever, his body covered in raw wounds from various tortures.

Madame Declan wept, kneeling in the cell, sobbing her gratitude for saving him.

I merely gave a cold, mocking laugh. "Save him? He should thank his good looks; only then is he worthy of being my attendant."

It was only then that they realized under what circumstances Declan would be leaving the dungeons.

General Declan glared, his eyes fierce enough to tear me apart.

He roared, "Declan, if you have any of the Declan family's honor left, walk the path to death with dignity! Do not cling to life as another's plaything!"

At the time, I didn't understand what was wrong with clinging to life.

Some people use all their strength just to survive.

The first thing I did after bringing Declan back to my princess's residence was to make him kneel in the bitter winter snow, dressed only in thin clothes.

I threw writing implements before him, looking down on him.

"Mr. Declan was once the most brilliant scholar in the Royal City, his exquisite handwriting renowned throughout the capital. Even my father, the Emperor, praised his powerful strokes and vibrant spirit."

Declan had once publicly shamed me.

It was my father's birthday that year, and I had just been brought out of the neglected wing of the palace.

Seraphina suggested a competition of artistic prowess, but then pushed me forward for the calligraphy part.

Everyone was curious about me, a princess who had grown up in the cold palace. Someone then asked Declan what he thought of my handwriting.

Declan briefly looked up, stating coldly, "Unrefined, hardly fit for public display."

For a long time after that, the noble ladies of the city treated me as a joke.

Now, I acted the part of a spoiled, resentful princess, making Declan kneel in the snow and write until his calligraphy satisfied me.

He knelt in the snow all night. No matter what he wrote, I found countless flaws. It wasn't until he collapsed from a raging fever that my servants carried him to a side room.

I deliberately tormented and humiliated him.

I had to. From the moment I brought him out of the dungeon, my every move was watched by my father's spies.

Only by constantly humiliating him would my father believe I truly held a grudge, quell his suspicions, and genuinely spare Declan's life.

I dared not summon a doctor, nor could I show any outward concern for Declan. Instead, I feigned a cold and had a trusted maid secretly find medicine and give it to him.

Under my constant torment, Declan resigned himself to being my kept man.

Did he hate me?

I didn't know.

But, most likely, yes.