Chapter 1Three Years at the Northern Frontier

For three years I stood by my husband guarding the Northern Frontier. Upon our return, he brought only his deputy's widow and children.

"He died saving me," my husband claimed. "Caring for them is my sacred duty."

He gave me a wooden hairpin while installing them in the General's mansion.

When frontier wars raged, they feasted in luxury while I fled through wilderness with our children.

Enemy scouts slaughtered them while I foraged.

When General Joseph arrived, he shed no tears. "The title needs an heir," he said. "Liz's son will do."

"Don't worry," he added. "Even if I marry her, I'll always love you most."

I drew my dagger and ended it all.

Then I awoke—back on the day my children would die.

…

The moment I realized I had been reborn, I dropped the basket and sickle in my hands. I quickly disguised my two children, and together, we slipped out the back of our small dwelling.

Perhaps they had grown accustomed to this life of constant flight and hardship. They were obedient, quiet, and cooperative. Their very maturity, born of suffering, only deepened the well of my hatred for Joseph.

I had once promised him that I would never return to the Capital without a letter from him. This time, for the sake of my children's lives, I would break that cursed vow.

I sold the jade pendant he had given me when we were betrothed—our token of true love—and scraped together enough money for the long journey. After more than two weeks of jolting travel, we finally stood before the imposing gates of the General's Manor.

"Insolent beggars! The General's Manor is no place for you to linger! Be gone, before our swords lose their patience!"

The guards, assuming we were peasants seeking alms, moved to drive us away. They only stopped when I produced the official token of the General's household.

"Wait here. I will inform the General and his lady."

The guard took my token and disappeared inside.

Half an incense stick later, a familiar voice, laced with annoyance, drifted from within. "How could a beggar have the General's token? Did you even..."

Lady Liz's voice died in her throat the moment she saw me.

I, too, stared at her, momentarily stunned. Her skin was fair and delicate, her gown fashioned from shimmering silks from the South. Her hair was a cascade of expensive pins and jewels.

My children and I were dressed in coarse, patched tunics. Our skin was rough and chapped from the harsh frontier climate.

No wonder the guards had mistaken us for beggars.

In three years, aside from the cheap wooden pin he’d given me at our parting, Joseph hadn't sent us a single coin, not a single morsel of food. All his thoughts, all his resources, had been lavished upon Liz and her children.

Liz was clearly thrown by my sudden appearance. Her lips opened and closed, but no words came out. It wasn't until Joseph appeared behind her, his face a mask of impatience, that the tableau broke.

His eyes widened in shock when he saw me and the children.

"Aurelia! What are you doing back in the Capital?" he hissed, grabbing our arms and frantically pulling us inside the manor. "We had an agreement! I told you I would write when it was time for you to return! Why didn't you honor our arrangement?"

I ignored his questions, my brow furrowed. "Why did the guards at the gate call Lady Liz 'my lady'?"

Joseph flinched, his gaze darting away from mine.

Liz, who had followed us in, quickly interjected. "Aurelia, dear sister, don't misunderstand. It's just the servants. They speak out of turn."

She added, her voice dripping with false humility, "The only true lady of this manor is you." I could hear the bitter resentment simmering beneath her words.

Joseph nodded eagerly. "Yes, that's right. The servants are foolish. Aurelia, you know my heart belongs only to you."

I was too weary to expose his lie. I simply led my children deeper into the manor.

Just then, a small boy dressed in rich brocade ran out from one of the inner rooms. He threw his arms around Joseph's legs.

"Father!" he chirped. "You promised you would teach me swordsmanship today!"

I recognized him at once. It was Liz's younger son, Conrad. Three years ago, he had been a scrawny, timid child. Now, he was the very picture of a pampered young nobleman.

My own children, by contrast, were little more than skin and bones. To get a single mouthful of food, they had to walk miles with me every day, digging for wild vegetables. Swordsmanship? Even learning to read and write was an impossible luxury.

Liz, seeing the storm gathering on my face, quickly pulled Conrad away.

Joseph came to me, taking my hand in a placating gesture. "Aurelia, please don't be upset. The boy fell terribly ill a year ago, and all he did was cry for his father. You know it's because of me that he has no father. I felt so guilty... I let him call me 'Father' to comfort him."

I remained silent.

My silence made him nervous. "Aurelia, you've always been the most understanding of women. Surely you wouldn't be angry with a child?"