Scorned by the Emperor for Ten Years, I Burned My Way to Freedom

Morale had never been higher.

My father and brother had crushed the barbarian tribes that plagued the frontier for years, even capturing their prince.

From that moment on, the two of them saw me as a woman of calculating ambition.

Even when the child I bore turned out to be only a little princess, she was sent away from the palace the very next day.

The memory of that tiny face, glimpsed for barely a second, sent a dull ache through my chest.

I had done what I knew I shouldn't have. I had wanted too much.

I met Cassius's dark, unreadable gaze and spoke with all the sincerity I possessed:

"If Your Majesty still holds any regard for our past and cannot bring himself to banish me to the Cold Palace, then send me beyond the walls to be with Rosalind Abbott. Tell the court I left of my own will, to pray for the empire's prosperity."

A crease of anger had already settled between Cassius's brows:

"I've already shown you more kindness than you deserve. I even sent for Rosalind to be brought into the palace. What more do you want?"

"Even if Eloise went too far today, you raised her for ten years. That she turned out this way is your failure. What right do you have to be dissatisfied?"

My voice remained steady, earnest:

"I have no dissatisfaction. I only ask for Your Majesty's grace."

Cassius was silent for a long moment before his voice turned cold:

"No consort has ever left the palace. Since you've begged to be thrown into the Cold Palace, I'll grant your wish."

His tone shifted: "If you regret it, I can still revoke the order. The decree hasn't been announced to the other quarters yet."

I pressed my forehead to the ground and accepted. "I thank Your Majesty for his grace."

"Angelica!"

Cassius ground out my name through clenched teeth, then turned and swept from the room.

The Cold Palace was bleak and desolate, yet I felt lighter than I had in years.

If I hadn't come here, Eloise would only have grown more furious seeing me close to Rosalind.

She didn't love me, but she was fiercely possessive of me.

To embroider the perfect blessing charm for her, I had stitched a hundred and seventy-seven before she finally picked the one she liked.

The rest she burned in a single fire.

At the time, Eloise had said:

"I know you wanted to save one for Rosalind. But she doesn't deserve to have the same things as me."

Her smile was innocent. Her eyes were as cold and deep as her father's.

A plate of coarse bread and half-raw greens was set before me.

The maid who brought it looked vaguely familiar. She smiled and said:

"You're no Noble Consort now. You should count yourself lucky to get even this."

"If you hadn't served His Majesty all those years, you probably wouldn't get anything at all."

When I gave no reaction, she let out a theatrical sigh:

"Really, all you'd have to do is bow your head to His Majesty, and you could have any delicacy you wanted. You were a pampered young lady back home. Why ruin yourself over a moment of stubbornness?"

Behind the crumbling door, a sliver of imperial gold peeked into view.

I understood. This was Cassius's clumsy way of offering me a way out.

He had always used other people's mouths to remind me that I was nothing without him.

And I had always followed meekly behind him and his daughter, without a word of complaint.

Ten years of being hollow. I was done.

I fixed my gaze on that sliver of gold fabric and spoke:

"No feast in the world compares to this simple meal. These days in the Cold Palace have given me more peace than I ever knew before."

Here, I didn't need to please anyone. I didn't need to carry the weight of my family's honor.

And no one stood over me every waking moment to remind me I was a replacement, a cuckoo in another woman's nest.

The door slammed shut. The flash of gold vanished.

I had no interest in chasing after him. I turned back to my meal.

But a small figure came darting out from behind the door.

She had her hair tied in two little buns, and the moment she saw me, she called out for her mother, over and over.

We had never met before. Yet I knew her at a single glance. This was my flesh and blood, separated from me for five long years.