Chapter 1
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My father and mother guarded the Northern Marches for ten years. They returned with an adopted daughter
a girl as beautiful and seemingy innocent as a lily.
The moment we met, my family suddenly began to hear her innermost thoughts.
Outwardly, she was warm and affectionate toward me, but in her heart, she seethed.
“So this is the sister who was raised in the capital’s luxury. She’s never known the bitterness of the frontier Dressed in such finery… she truly knows nothing of hardship.”
The eyes of my father, mother, and brother turned on me, filled with blame.
But what she didn’t know was that in this life, there was one more person who could hear her thoughts: me.
The sun beat down relentlessly as I stood alone under a parasol, waiting at the gate.
A carriage slowly turned the corner, its simple canvas top a stark contrast to the grand, opulent manors
lining the street. Before it had even stopped, a young woman leaped down.
She was my age, her dark hair tied back with a simple red ribbon. She had the lively, almond–shaped eyes of
a fawn, and every movement was filled with a playful, charming energy.
“You must be my sister from the capital. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. My name is Seraphina.”
Her words were sweet, but I already knew the venom in her heart.
Sure enough, as my parents and my brother, Gareth, hurried out of the carriage after her, I heard that secret
voice again.
“My sister has lived in the capital her whole life, never tasting the bitterness of the Marches. Look at her, sc
extravagantly dressed. She knows nothing of true suffering. A single one of her hairpins could probably cov
er a soldier’s wages for a year, couldn’t it?”
My parents and brother froze, their expressions hardening. They shot me accusing glances.
It was just like in my past life. I had been filled with joy, eagerly awaiting my family’s return, only to be met
with their instant, baseless resentment.
No matter what I did–or even if I did nothing at all–Seraphina’s “inner voice” would guide them to turn their hearts against me. I had done nothing, yet I became a spoiled, disrespectful degenerate in their eyes.
I died of a broken heart.
Seraphina, however, had used my life as a stepping stone, becoming a celebrated paragon of humility and strength.
But now, I no longer felt the sting of their coldness as I had in my past life.
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1 simply nodded at my parents and my brother.
“Father. Mother. Gareth,”
Then I turned and walked back into the manor, not caring whether they followed,
Behind me, Seraphina’s inner voice chimed in again.
“Why won’t my sister speak to me? Is she trying to put me in my place? These ladies from the capital are always so wrapped up in their petty games. They have none of the simple honesty of the frontier people.”
My mother, hearing this, bristled with indignation. “My lord, this daughter of ours has no manners at all?”
My father, Lord Marshal Valerius, said nothing, his face a grim mask.
Gareth couldn’t hold back. “I have no sister so rude and arrogant. In my heart, my only sister is Seraphinar
Seraphina was clearly delighted but put on a show of magnanimity. “Perhaps my sister feels that I’ve stolen our parents‘ affection. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have presumed to call myself their daughter.”
Hearing her usually cheerful adopted daughter speak so humbly, and seeing the tears welling in her almond eyes, a fire of rage ignited in my mother’s heart.
She scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. “You are my daughter, Seraphina, and no one can take that place! Don’t you waste your tears on someone so inconsequential.”
My father and Gareth rushed to comfort her as well.
How absurd. My own parents, on the very first day of their return, calling their own flesh and blood “inconse- quential” for the sake of an adopted child.
My chest felt hollow.
It should have ached. It should have been breaking with grief, with an unbearable agony.
But it felt nothing.
In my last life, the heart that had yearned for my parents and missed my brother had already died.
It died when Gareth gave Seraphina the holy scriptures I had painstakingly copied, just so she could tear
them apart for fun.
It died when my mother, cradling a drenched Seraphina who had “fallen” into the lake, accused me of having
a viper’s heart,
It died when my father had me flogged, forcing me to give up my position as companion to the princess so that Seraphina could have it.
I walked briskly to the main hall and turned, cutting through their tender family moment without a shred of
emotion.
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“It is time for the evening meal.”
The chatter behind me ceased. Perhaps they had suddenly remembered that the “inconsequential person”
was still there.
My mother’s embarrassment quickly turned to fury.
“What is this attitude?” she snapped. “Is this how you treat your parents?”
“Disrespectful to your parents, cruel to your sister… How did I ever give birth to a daughter like you?”
I feigned confusion, tilting my head as I looked at her twisted, angry face. “I merely announced that it was time to eat. How is that disrespectful?”
It was like punching a pillow. She was left speechless.
Finally, my father intervened. “Enough! Both of you, be silent!” he commanded. “To the dining hall. Now.”
In the hall, we took our seats around a large, mahogany table. But on its vast surface were only a few bowls of thin gruel and some meager vegetables.
Seeing the simple fare, Gareth slammed his chopsticks down.
“What is the meaning of this? Are you intentionally trying to starve us?”
Seraphina tried to smooth things over. “Gruel and vegetables are fine. Our sister worked hard to prepare
them.”
But in her heart, she murmured, “My sister has seen every delicacy the capital has to offer, yet she prepares only this for us. Can she truly hate me this much? I should find a chance to tell our parents to send me away.
I can’t be the cause of a rift in this family!”
My father finally spoke, his voice a command.
“Kneel!”
I remained standing, unmoved.
In my past life, because of Seraphina’s inner voice, the lavish feast I had prepared was seen as proof of my decadence. It was Seraphina herself who had clutched her heart and declared that the soldiers on the front-
ier were suffering, and that a simple meal of gruel would have been more than enough.
And now, I had prepared the simple meal they wanted. Why were they still angry?
When I didn’t move, Gareth lunged forward and grabbed my arms, forcing me down with brutal strength. He had trained in combat since he was a boy and had been hardened by years in the army. I, a girl raised in the gentle confines of the capital, was no match for his power.
In an instant, bruises bloomed on my wrists as he forced me to my knees.
My father pointed at me, calling me a disgrace.
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Gareth’s voice was laced with accusation. “You feast on delicacies every day in the capital, and this is what you prepare for our parents‘ return? You are an unworthy daughter!”
“And how, brother, would you know that I feast on delicacies every day?” I asked, my voice weak. My frail body couldn’t withstand his assault, and a mouthful of blood suddenly spilled from my lips.
Seeing me cough up blood, Gareth released me in shock.
I wiped the blood from my chin, my voice cold. “When our grandmother was alive, she forbade me from eating meat. At every meal, I was allowed only half a bowl of gruel. For you and our parents, I specifically ordered the kitchen to bring a full bowl. How does that make me an unworthy daughter?”
My grandmother had despised my mother, After my mother abandoned me at the age of three to follow my father to the frontier with Gareth, her cruelty toward me only intensified. Half a bowl of gruel was a regular
occurrence. If she was in a foul mood, I would be forced to kneel for hours on an empty stomach.
It was a laughable shame–the daughter of the renowned Lord Marshal, starving in his own home. But it was
the truth.
My parents‘ expressions flickered. They knew of their mother’s nature. My mother, remembering the years of torment she had endured under her mother–in–law, finally felt a genuine pang of sympathy for me.
Tears streamed down her face as she helped me up. “My poor child, you’ve suffered.”
“Your brother didn’t mean it. We are all family. Don’t take it to heart.”
I said nothing, staring at the dark bruises on my arms.
My father shoved Gareth forward. He stumbled, hung his head, and mumbled an apology. “I was wrong. I
shouldn’t have pushed you.”
Seraphina rushed over, dabbing at the bloodstains on my gown with her handkerchief. “Oh, sister, it pains my heart to see you like this!”
But in her mind, she was saying, “Yes, my sister has suffered, but it wasn’t Gareth’s fault. Why must she be so aggressive about it?”
At her words, the atmosphere shifted once more.
Gareth’s guilt vanished without a trace. The pity in my parents‘ eyes faded, replaced by annoyance at my “im-
pertinence.”
I had no desire to deal with them. I turned and walked away.
As I left, my father called after me, “Tomorrow, you will go to the palace. The Queen will be selecting a com-
panion for the Princess. Remember to help your sister.”
In the Royal Gardens, the Queen sat on the main dais, with Princess Aurelia nestled by her side. Princess Aurelia was the youngest child of the King and Queen, doted upon and known for her spirited, whimsical
nature.
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In my past life, she had chosen me to be her companion. Not because of any great talent, but simply becau- se she thought I was beautiful. It was as simple as that.
But Seraphina, in her inner voice, had convinced my parents that I had used tricks to ensure she wasn’t cho- sen. I was punished, forced to kneel before the ancestral tablets in our dark family chapel to “reflect on my sins.” My father took the family scourge to me, the horsewhip lashing my back again and again. He demand- ed that I “repent” and give up my position. No matter how I explained, he only believed the “inner voice.”
But a companion chosen by the royal family was not a position one could simply relinquish. In the end, he
had to trade his military merits to secure Seraphina a place in the palace.
Now, I watched Seraphina perform on the dais. She wielded a light, flexible sword, her red tunic rustling as she moved, drawing gasps of admiration from the other noble ladies.
But Princess Aurelia looked bored.
Everyone assumed her spirited nature would draw her to a unique woman like Seraphina. But the princess
had a secret preference for delicate, willow–like beauties.
After Seraphina stepped down, I took the stage, dressed in a gown of flowing silk with gossamer sleeves, my eyebrows painted like willow leaves, my eyes full of gentle grace. At first glance, I looked like a celestial
maiden descended to earth.
I hadn’t even begun my performance when Princess Aurelia started tugging on the Queen’s arm, whining like a spoiled child.
“Mother, I want her!”
Just like last time, Seraphina’s eyes immediately reddened with tears. And just like last time, when Gareth came to collect us, she made a show of congratulating me.
“Congratulations, sister, on winning the princess’s favor and becoming her companion.”
But in her heart, she sobbed, “The princess seemed so interested during my performance. Why did she cho- ose my sister the moment she appeared?”
Those ambiguous words had been the evidence that condemned me in my past life.
This time, I couldn’t be bothered to feign a sisterly bond.
“The princess likes me, so she chose me,” I said languidly. “There is nothing to congratulate.”
Gareth frowned. “Seraphina lost her chance, and you’re here gloating. You’re disgusting.”
I didn’t even look at him. I simply lifted the curtain of the carriage and stepped inside. My cool voice drifted out. “Are you driving this carriage or not? If not, I’ll find someone else. I have no time to waste on your squa- bbling.”
Back at home, the same scene from my past life played out. My mother held Seraphina, comforting her, while my father ordered me to the chapel to “reflect.”
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I rolled my eyes disdainfully. “Tomorrow, the princess will summon me to the palace as her companion. Are you certain you want me to be on my knees all night, Father?”
I had specifically asked the princess for this favor, anticipating this very move.
My father’s face turned crimson with rage, pointing at me and sputtering, unable to form a coherent senten
- ce.
I turned my back on him, leaving him with only my cold silhouette.
The next morning, no one came to see me off. The coachman was in a difficult position.
“My lady,” he explained in a hushed tone, “it’s not that I want to make things hard for you, but the Lord Mars hal has forbidden me from taking you to the palace. My hands are tied!”
I didn’t blame him. I turned left out the gate and hired a carriage from the livery stable down the street.
Fools. Did the border sands scour the sense from their heads? They’ve forgotten you can hire a carriage
right outside your own door.
At the palace, I was not surprised to see Seraphina. My father had rushed to the palace the night before to ensure her wish was granted.
Princess Aurelia hadn’t arrived yet. Seraphina was deep in conversation with a girl whose makeup was exqu-
isitely applied.
It was Duchess Isolde.
In my past life, she had been envious of Seraphina’s “freedom” on the frontier and had taken her as a confid-
ante. When Seraphina hinted that I was suppressing her, Isolde had taken it upon herself to be her champion.
She was the one who had ruined my reputation and had me driven from the palace in shame.
In this life, she and Seraphina had become friends once again.
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