I did not scream.
Not when the palace walls trembled with their new celebration.
Not when the banners changed color, no longer my shade of crimson, but a soft pink adorned with a lotus sigil i did not recognize.
I stood by the upper veranda, gazing down at the courtyards teeming with servants, musicians, dancers, silk draped between pillars as if they were welcoming a goddess.
And perhaps, to them, they were.
The new concubine.
Even when i warned him, warned Lucien with steel against my throat, he brought her in.
I watched the procession from the shadows of my chambers, veiled behind thin drapes that smelled of old incense.
Her palanquin was gilded, painted with the delicate flowers of spring, like some rare blossom he had picked in defiance.
The musicians played louder.
She stepped out, veiled in red, her movements soft, demure, rehearsed.
I didn't blink. I didn't move. I didn't feel.
And yet something in my chest twisted painfully.
I turned from the scene.
If i was going to suffer, then so would they.
All of them.
Every last one who thought they could chain me to silence.
—
I walked alone through the Plum Garden.
A path few dared take this late in the season. The blossoms had wilted weeks ago, replaced by browning leaves and brittle air.
But it was quiet here.
At least until footsteps approached from behind.
I did not slow down.
My robe swished sharply across the gravel.
"Your Grace," Elise murmured behind me. "You haven't eaten anything since yesterday. Perhaps we should—"
"I don't need to eat to watch him betray me," I said plainly.
She fell silent.
She always did.
The only reason she was still alive was because she had learned when to speak and when to keep her head bowed.
I turned a corner in the garden path, but as fate would have it, another figure was walking toward me.
Smaller, daintier. Clothed in pale blue with gold embroidery trailing like vines along her sleeves.
The new concubine.
She stopped when she saw me.
Her head bowed low. Her posture perfect. "Princess Consort."
Princess Consort.
The title tasted like ash now.
I didn't respond.
I let my eyes move from the silk of her hair to the way her fingers trembled around her sleeve.
Weak.
She was weak.
But it wasn't her that caught my eye.
It was the girl beside her.
A maid, clearly, though one with too much nerve. She shifted slightly, positioning herself between me and her mistress, her eyes wary. Protective.
I almost laughed.
As if that would help.
I raised an eyebrow.
The concubine finally dared to speak. Her voice soft, sugar-laced, as if she had practiced this in front of a mirror. "I know you may hate me, Your Grace. But… I love the Prince. That is why i agreed to enter this union."
How sweet.
How naïve.
I turned to face her fully.
The maid instantly stepped between us.
Her hands rose slightly in defense.
I slapped her aside.
Not hard, but with enough force to remind her that i was not some palace concubine, waiting quietly to be adored.
The girl fell to her knees in the dirt.
I looked back to the concubine.
She had gone pale.
Then, suddenly—
"Please! Don't hurt me! Please! I beg you!"
Her scream pierced the silence like a dagger through silk.
Her voice echoed off the stone columns, loud enough to summon stares.
Whispers began immediately, from corridors and corners i hadn't noticed. Eunuchs. Maids. Ministers.
All watching.
All assuming.
She had dropped to the ground, clutching her sleeve as though i had already beaten her.
What a performance.
And of course, of course he arrived.
Lucien.
He came from behind, boots slamming against the flagstones. His cloak swept dramatically behind him, the royal dragon embroidered in silver at his shoulders.
His eyes locked onto the woman crying in the dust.
"My Lord!" she cried, reaching out with trembling fingers.
He didn't hesitate.
He gathered her into his arms like she was made of glass.
He didn't even glance at me.
And she, she smirked.
So faint. So quick.
But i saw it.
Elise saw it too.
I felt her body stiffen behind me.
I clenched my fists.
A dozen ways to hurt her flashed through my mind.
But i stood there, motionless.
Lucien finally looked at me.
His eyes were cold.
Empty.
Like they'd been the day he first married me.
"My concubine will be treated with respect," he said.
"She cried," I replied flatly. "Not because i hurt her, but because i looked at her. Shall i start gouging out my own eyes?"
He stepped forward, still holding the woman in his arms.
"You are making a scene."
"No," I said, voice low. "She made it. I merely existed in it."
He didn't answer.
He turned and walked away, carrying her like a hero in some tragic fable.
The crowd parted for him.
I remained where i stood, shoulders straight, hands folded before me.
As if nothing had happened.
Elise touched my sleeve.
"You saw that too, didn't you?" I asked softly.
She nodded.
"Good," I said. "Then remember it."
Because the time would come when everyone would forget what the truth looked like.
And someone needed to remember the moment the lies began.
I said nothing on the way back.
The walk to my chambers was silent, save for the wind weaving through empty courtyards like a ghost that could not rest.
Elise followed, two steps behind, her presence steady.
But my mind was far from still.
In another lifetime, perhaps one carved from silk and moonlight, I would have wept.
I would have asked him what i had done wrong.
I would have begged him to look at me like he once did in the rain that night, the first night he took me from my ruined homeland.
But not this version of me.
Not the Seraphine they hated.
The one they feared.
That woman no longer begged.
That woman watched.
Waited.
Remembered.
And this palace had given me nothing but time.
—
I didn't sleep that night.
I stood by the large window that overlooked the southern gate, where foreign caravans often passed.
Where soldiers returned from war.
Where fate could enter quietly under the cover of night, unnoticed by even the gods.
I stood there until the moon reached its highest point.
Then i turned to Elise.
"Have they begun the paperwork?" I asked.
She nodded. "The Ministry of Appointments already sent notice. She's been registered officially as Royal Concubine Mei."
I exhaled slowly. "Mei."
Even her name was designed to be soft.
Like plum blossoms in spring.
"She's gathering allies," Elise added quietly. "Several inner court wives have already sent gifts to her estate."
I didn't respond.
Of course they had.
Why ally with the woman the Prince ignored, when you could fawn over the new favorite?
"I want her watched," I said. "Everyone she speaks to. Every gift she receives. Every corridor she walks through. I want a list by tomorrow."
Elise hesitated. "And the Prince?"
I paused.
Then: "Let him think I'm hurt. It's better that way."
I turned back to the window.
"And Elise?"
"Yes, Your Grace?"
"When the time comes," I said, voice softer now, "make sure the world remembers who threw the first stone."