I’ve always had an absurdly high sense of self-worth. When my stepmother tried to gaslight me, I took it as a compliment. When my stepsister flaunted her gifts, I accepted them as my due. Then my fiancé, desperate to climb the social ladder, came to break off our engagement. "Serena, I know I’m not worthy of you..." I nodded in agreement. "You do have a face for radio, after all." He gritted his teeth, his jaw popping. "With your beauty, you deserve the most powerful man in the world." I thought that made a lot of sense. So, at the Grand State Gala, I asked the ruthless, icy new King: "Would you like to make me your Queen?" He narrowed his eyes and smiled softly. "Sure." 1. The New Year’s State Gala was approaching. My stepmother, Victoria, called my stepsister in to try on custom gowns. I happened to be nearby, feeding the koi in the atrium. My stepsister, Tiffany, smirked. "Serena, why don't you come watch?" I knew she was up to no good with just one look. But I dumped the rest of the fish food into the pond, clapped the dust off my hands, and stood up. "All right. Let's go." This Gala was nominally to celebrate the New Year. But everyone in the capital's high society knew the truth. King Adrian had been on the throne for over two years, yet the Royal Palace remained devoid of a Queen. There was only one consort, a high-maintenance Duchess. Many debutantes were aiming for the crown tonight. Tiffany was no exception. Victoria had ordered eight couture gowns for her. Every color imaginable. I had none. I just sat there, watching her model them. She tried them on one by one, agonizing between a pale mint green and a vibrant coral red. I sipped my tea, nibbled on a macaron, and said idly: "Your features are too delicate. The mint green washes you out. It makes you look plain. The coral red, however, brings out your complexion." Tiffany listened and immediately switched to the coral red gown. She preened in front of the floor-to-length mirror for ages. Victoria slammed her hand on the table. "That’s the one!" Then, as if realizing who had spoken, they both glared at me in unison. "Serena, who asked for your opinion?!" I was toying with a diamond hairpin Tiffany had discarded. "Just making conversation." Joke’s on them. I own forty percent of the shares in the boutique Victoria ordered from. But there was no need for them to know that. Tiffany wasn't satisfied. Seeing the purple amethyst hairpin in my hand, she gave a fake smile. "I’m so loved by Mom and Dad that my jewelry box is overflowing. Unlike you, little sister. Dad doesn't care about you, and your birth mom passed early. You have so few nice things; it’s honestly pathetic." "Look at how much you like that pin. Are you going to shamelessly ask me to give it to you?" I nodded approvingly. "You really are generous, Tiffany. Since you insist, I’ll take it." Tiffany froze. "I didn't..." Victoria glared at her and pulled her daughter behind her back, stepping into the ring herself. "Serena, you’ve always loved flashy colors. Wearing this purple pin with a bright dress would be tacky. You should stick to..." I nodded again. "Mother is absolutely right." "In that case, I’ll take that mint green dress Tiffany rejected. It matches my 'tacky' vibe perfectly." 2. The mother-daughter duo was left speechless. They watched as I walked away with the couture gown and the amethyst pin. Before I closed the door, I heard Victoria muttering to herself: "That’s not right. I insulted her taste. Why isn't she crying?" "Mrs. Vander said when she insulted her stepdaughter's outfit, the girl cried in her room for a day!" Tiffany joined the post-game analysis. "Mom, maybe you shouldn't have changed the wording? Should you have used Mrs. Vander's exact insults?" "Sigh." Victoria sighed heavily. "I just thought calling her a 'tramp' was too harsh. She is still a young lady..." Then, she suddenly glared at Tiffany. "And you! How many times? Every time I buy you jewelry, you let her hustle you out of it!" Tiffany pouted. "I didn't know her skin was that thick!" They completed their one-hundred-and-twentieth reflection meeting. Determined to learn from their mistakes. Next time, they swore, they would successfully humiliate me. I went back to my room and put away the spoils of war. I cleaned up a bit and went out to meet my fiancé, Carter. He had sent a message two days ago. He said he wanted to see the holiday lights downtown with me before the Gala. This engagement was arranged by my birth mom before she died. She was sick and worried Victoria would mistreat me after she was gone. She gave me a family heirloom and gasped out: "I once saved that family's patriarch. Their son... he's brilliant. He will go into politics. At least there will be a man to protect you..." I wanted to tell her I didn't need a man to protect me. But seeing her fading away, I couldn't say it. My mom was gentle and timid. She always said I was nothing like her. In the end, she smiled with relief. "It's fine. being like me isn't a good thing anyway." To let her pass in peace, I agreed to the engagement. But I didn't expect this. After viewing the lights, we sat down in a high-end restaurant. And Carter immediately asked to break the engagement. 3. I raised an eyebrow, looking at the engagement contract in his hand. "Why?" "Our engagement is private. Only our parents know. Calling it off won't hurt your reputation or stop you from marrying someone else later." He sounded so self-righteous. But my contacts at the boutique had already spilled the tea. Carter had been seen shopping with another girl. She had admired a white jade bracelet. He didn't have enough money on him, so he wrote a poem on the spot, sold it to a collector for a grand, and bought it for her. The girl was swooning. "I hear she's Senator Zhou's favorite granddaughter. Doesn't care about money, just wants 'talent and a true heart.'" I chuckled dryly. Such a precise target demographic. Carter must have worked hard to secure that connection. I found it hilarious. "Just say you're social climbing. I'm not desperate to marry you." Carter looked like he had been slapped with a supreme insult. But he swallowed his pride. "Serena, I know I’m not worthy of you..." I nodded. "I agree. You really are physically underwhelming." Crack. Did he just shatter a molar? But Carter, priding himself on being an intellectual, couldn't bring himself to curse at me. Instead, he went passive-aggressive. "With your beauty, you naturally deserve the best man in the world." I looked thoughtful. "You mean the King? You want me to be Queen?" He turned pale. "I didn't say that!" "Oh? So you're implying the King isn't the best man in the world?" I shook my head disapprovingly. "Carter. Watch your words. That sounds like treason." Carter almost knelt. "I'm begging you, Serena! Loose lips sink ships. I have my bar exam next year. I have eight hundred dollars on me. Take it. Consider it damages." Why didn't he just lead with the money? I weighed the stack of cash and the check he handed over. I nodded. "I agree to the breakup. Tomorrow, I'll have someone return your contract and your heirloom." "Go climb your ladder. We are strangers now." Carter suddenly looked disappointed. "Serena, don't you have anything else to say to me?" "I do." I saw his eyes light up with hope. "You're paying for this dinner." 4. On the day of the Gala, I wore the mint green gown Tiffany rejected. I wore the jewelry Victoria "gifted" me. I stepped into the limo. Mother and daughter sat across from me, glaring like angry pufferfish. I sipped my champagne. "Why are you staring? Mesmerized by my beauty?" Tiffany’s face went dark. "Serena, do you have no shame?" "I'm just speaking the truth." "Even if it's true, you shouldn't brag." Victoria lectured me. "As a lady, you should be modest and reserved." "You're right, Mother. I heard Tiffany prepared a piano solo for the King. Since we're being modest and reserved, I assume she won't be performing?" "..." Victoria choked. She pivoted instantly. "That’s old-fashioned thinking! The Prime Minister says modern women should be bright, brave, and confident." I smiled again. "Mother is right. So, do you think I'm beautiful?" Victoria scrunched up her face, the words dragging out of her throat. "...Beautiful." I was satisfied. I decided to stop teasing her for the day. The limo pulled up to the Palace gates. We entered the Grand Ballroom along with other high-ranking families. Mrs. Vander, Victoria's frenemy, sidled up to her. "Such an important event, why did you bring the illegitimate one?" Victoria sighed. "She insisted." Mrs. Vander gasped. "She insisted, so you just brought her?" "My husband is deployed at the border. Her birth mom is dead. If I didn't bring her, she'd be alone in that big house for the holidays." "It's perfectly normal for the mistress's kid to stay home alone!" Mrs. Vander shrieked. "Victoria, you come from old money, yet you let a bastard child walk all over you! I can't be seen with you. We're done!" She abandoned Victoria mercilessly and went to gossip with others. Abandoned by her bestie of twenty years. Victoria stood there, stunned. Her lip wobbled. She looked ready to cry. Just then. A hush fell over the room. "Her Grace, the Duchess!" announced the herald. The crowd bowed. A languid female voice floated through the air. "Interesting. Someone dares to wear the same embroidery pattern as me." "Drag her out. Twenty lashes. Let it be a lesson." The girl she pointed at was the illegitimate daughter of a minor official. She went pale. "Your Grace, mercy! This dress is... is..." She looked at her stepmother in disbelief. That woman didn't look at her. She just quietly adjusted her own biological daughter's cape. I looked at Victoria and Tiffany. They were huddled together like frightened quails. Their faces said: People can really hurt people like that?? The girl was sobbing in despair. Her forehead was bleeding from bowing so hard on the marble floor. The Duchess didn't flinch. I knew the score. She had been the favorite for two years, aiming for the crown. But the King wouldn't commit. She knew he might pick a Queen tonight. This was a power move. Killing the chicken to scare the monkeys. Seeing the guards approach to drag the girl away, I couldn't help it. "Wait." The room went dead silent. Tiffany tugged frantically on my dress, whispering, "Serena, are you crazy?" The Duchess's sharp gaze flew to me. "What? You want to join her?" "Your Grace misunderstands. Miss Cen dressed this way out of admiration for you." I curtsied gracefully. "She knows she cannot compare to your radiance. But legends say before you entered the court, you were a General's daughter who rode a red horse through the capital. That image captivated every girl in the city." "Everyone knows the King declared a general amnesty to celebrate the victory in the North. It is the holidays. Your Grace must not listen to those who wish to stir up trouble and spill blood in the Palace tonight!" The Duchess paused. Calming down, she realized she was being used as a weapon by others who wanted her to look cruel in front of the King. "Fine. No lashes. Go kneel at the garden entrance for two hours." Miss Cen, having escaped torture, thanked her profusely. Her stepmother was promptly kicked out by the Duchess's security. Finally, the Duchess looked at me. She sneered. "You have a sharp tongue." "You go kneel with her."
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