Reborn at the Royal Banquet I Let My Arrow Miss on Purpose

I stared at her, wide-eyed. "Your Highness wants me to what? Transfer my dowry into Augusta's name?"

The audacity of this woman.

Augusta trailed behind the Queen, her voice small and trembling. "Sister, I may only be a lesser-born daughter, but I'm still a daughter of the House of Ironhold. I'm about to become the Crown Princess. I simply don't want to bring shame upon our family's name."

The Crown Prince tenderly wiped her tears, then turned to me with a mocking look. "I'll have my Chief Steward deliver my personal decree to the Duke Everett Abbott's estate. They are to treat the future Crown Princess with the respect she deserves and prepare a proper trousseau for her."

By the time Augusta returned to the Henson Ducal Estate, the Crown Prince's Chief Steward had already arrived and delivered the message.

The moment Augusta stepped through the door, she dropped to her knees before my mother, the picture of pitiful innocence. "Mother, the Crown Prince took pity on me for my humble birth and suggested the estate prepare a proper trousseau. He said Camila could lend me her dowry first, so I'd have something respectable when I enter the Eastern Palace."

"Camila will only be a secondary consort. No one will care how large her dowry is. Once we're both in the Eastern Palace, what's mine and what's hers will be one and the same."

"After all, I may be lesser-born, but I'm still Father's daughter. Surely he wouldn't want the world mocking the Duke of Ironhold for treating his daughters unequally?"

Her eyes glittered with calculation. My mother regarded her with quiet disappointment, then finally spoke. "Enough. Go and rest. Focus on your wedding preparations."

Augusta rose, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she swept out of the room.

My mother took my hand. "Camila, do you truly intend to become the Crown Prince's secondary consort?"

I shook my head. "Don't worry, Mother. I will never marry the Crown Prince. I wouldn't even want to be his principal wife, let alone his concubine."

"I've already refused the Queen's offer to make me a secondary consort, but I doubt she'll give up so easily."

My father's expression turned grave. "The House of Ironhold cannot be dragged into the succession struggle. The only way to extricate ourselves is to marry you to someone else before the palace can issue a decree."

"If Augusta wants to marry into the Eastern Palace, let her. When the time comes, our family will have its own answer."

On the day of the Crown Prince's wedding, red silk draped every street and festive music filled the air. When the Crown Prince arrived at the estate and spotted me standing off to the side, he smiled. "Camila, three days from now, I'll petition His Majesty for a decree naming you my secondary consort. Behave yourself, and I'll give you a grand wedding too."

Then his gaze drifted toward Augusta's courtyard, where forty-eight chests of dowry stood in neat rows. His expression darkened. "Is the House of Ironhold trying to humiliate me?"

"My Crown Princess, and she brings only forty-eight chests? This is an insult."

My father stepped forward. "Forgive the offense, Your Highness, but Augusta is not my biological daughter. Forty-eight chests for a girl I raised out of kindness is more than generous."