1 Duke Alaric had loved me for five years, and in all that time, he defied my wishes only three times. The first was on the day my mother died, when he returned from the Northmarch with a pregnant dancing girl in tow. The second was on the day after my mother died, when he took an axe to the Silverwood trees my parents had planted for me in the manor gardens. “Liana is with child,” he’d said. “The scent of the blossoms disagrees with her.” The third was on the day of my mother’s funeral, when he held a grand wedding feast for Liana at the Gilded Lily Pavilion. As I clutched my mother’s memorial urn, I finally understood that when grief reaches its absolute peak, tears refuse to fall. And so, I used the golden sigil of command—a right earned by the blood of my family, the House of Valerius, all of whom had died as loyal marshals of the realm—to petition the King for a decree of annulment. When I hear a beloved has two minds, I come to him with a heart resolved to break. We had loved each other for five years. The breaking took only three days. After my mother’s passing, I volunteered to take command of the fortress in the Northmarch. Before the ducal manor, the Lord Chamberlain who delivered the royal assent looked at me with pity. “Lady Evelyn,” he said, his voice soft with regret. “You have waited for the Duke for five years. Your hardships were finally coming to an end. Why would you choose to go to that bitter, frozen land?” He sighed. “The Duke is utterly devoted to you. The entire capital has been waiting for your wedding celebration.” I lowered my eyes and smiled, a bitter, self-mocking curve of my lips. Devoted? Perhaps, once. That is, if I hadn’t, by chance, overheard a conversation between Alaric and the house physician seven days ago. “Your Grace,” the physician had said, his tone hesitant. “Lady Liana is now three months along. Perhaps it is time to cease the Duchess’s barrenness draught?” Alaric’s brow furrowed. His voice was cold, laced with a chilling obsession. “Why would we stop?” “If Evelyn Valerius were capable of bearing a child, she would use it as leverage to prevent my marriage to Liana. Only when she is crippled by her own shame and inadequacy will I have the chance to give Liana the title she deserves.” The physician sounded uneasy. “But my lady, the Duchess, is so deeply in love with you—” Alaric’s eyes flashed with ice. “If she had any sense, she would understand that I only married her to repay the debt I owe her father and brothers for saving my life. I would never have had to scheme so desperately to bring Liana home otherwise!” He finished with a sneer. “It is her great fortune to have married me at all!” I stood outside the door, hearing every single word. A cold so profound it felt like it was in my bones washed over me, and my legs trembled, barely able to hold my weight. So, the tonics the physician brought me each day were not to restore my health. They were draughts of barrenness, meant to ensure I would never, ever conceive. I stumbled back, my heart seizing. A year ago, Alaric had been ambushed by raiders in the Northmarch. I had ridden for five days straight without rest, and when I found him, I had sliced open my own wrist and let three full bowls of my blood drain out to save him from the brink of death. The physician who treated me then told me my body had been gravely weakened, that I would likely never bear children. I was devastated, lost in a grief so deep I wished for death. It was Alaric who had knelt before me in front of the entire court, swearing he did not care that I was barren. The King, moved by his valor in battle and his profound love for me, had granted him the title of Duke of the Northmarch. But I never imagined it was a lie. The physician who diagnosed my infertility had been planted by Alaric from the very beginning. He convinced me I was barren, and then, with draught after draught, he stole from me my right to ever become a mother. And he did all of this, this intricate, cruel deception, simply to win military glory and a title, so he could one day openly marry the woman he brought back from the Northmarch. The thought drew a hollow, desolate smile to my face. “Lord Chamberlain,” I said, my voice steady. “My mind is made up.” Seeing my resolve, the old courtier did not press further. “His Majesty has decreed it. At the conclusion of Lady Valerius’s funeral rites, the decree of annulment shall be issued. You may then depart with your command, my lady.” At the mention of my mother, my eyes burned. My husband, the man who had sworn to cherish and honor my mother as his own, who had promised me a life with him and him alone, had not once come to see her since his return to the capital. He probably didn't even know she had died. I fought back tears and accepted the King’s command. It was alright. In one more day, I would have my annulment. I could leave this manor forever. Returning to the manor with the royal scroll, I ran right into Alaric. Seeing my thin clothes, he immediately shrugged off his own heavy cloak and draped it over my shoulders, his touch a familiar gesture of concern. “The spring chill is treacherous. Why aren’t you wearing more? You’ll make me worry myself sick.” His cloak was saturated with a heavy, sweet perfume. In all the capital, only Liana wore that scent. The gesture was so absurd I could only find it laughable. I looked up at him, my face pale and gaunt. But Alaric didn’t even notice. He was lost in his own thoughts. “Ah, that reminds me. In your dowry, weren’t there two bolts of fine silk brocade? I was thinking of having a gown made for Liana.” He continued, his tone earnest. “After all, if she hadn’t taken care of me in the Northmarch, I might never have seen you again.” I lowered my gaze, and for the first time, I didn't argue. “Very well.” 2 “Evelyn, don’t misunderstand,” he said quickly. “I just pity her, all alone with no one to rely on. It’s not like you. You have me.” I forced a smile. “It’s no matter. I don’t mind. Go on, take it.” With my permission, Alaric’s face lit up with undisguised joy. He released my hand and hurried towards the storeroom. I watched as he carefully selected three bolts of iridescent, water-colored silk. He then summoned the finest tailor in the capital, his voice gentle and serious as he gave meticulous instructions on the cut and embroidery. In the five years since our betrothal, he had never once shown me such care. A humorless smile touched my lips. I walked over to him and presented him with a scroll. “This is a royal decree of marriage I petitioned for, on behalf of you and Liana,” I said. “Consider it a way to give her child a proper name.” Alaric froze, a flash of pure ecstasy in his eyes. But he quickly masked it, pulling me into a fierce embrace, his voice thick with feigned heartbreak. “Evelyn, you sacrifice so much for me. I can never repay you.” He held me tight. “Rest assured, no matter what happens, the lady of this house will always be you.” His embrace was as warm as ever. But this time, it only made my stomach churn. The moment the new gowns were finished, Alaric took the decree and, making some excuse, left the manor. Watching his retreating back, I was suddenly thrown back in time. Three days ago, the old steward of my family’s estate had come to me. My mother’s old illness had returned, he’d said. She had coughed up so much blood it had soaked half her bedding. Her time was short. I had panicked, grabbing Alaric as he was about to leave the manor, my voice choked with tears. “Alaric, can you please come with me to my family’s estate? My mother—” Before I could finish, Liana’s sweet, cloying voice drifted in from the courtyard. “Alaric, my love! You promised you would help me choose new hairpins today. Are you ready?” At the sound of her voice, Alaric pushed my hand away, his expression strained. “I’m terribly busy right now, Evelyn. Can I go with you when I have a spare moment?” But my mother closed her eyes for the last time, and Alaric never came. In that moment, all my hope, all my love, shattered into dust. I knelt at my mother’s bedside, sobbing until I couldn’t breathe. With a tremendous effort, she gripped my hand, a dry, faint smile on her lips. “Alaric didn’t come,” she whispered, each word a struggle. “Don’t be angry with him when you go back.” “After I’m gone, he is all you have left in this world.” “You must be good to each other… you must…” I watched her take her last breath, and my heart felt as if it had been ripped from my chest by a wild beast. Tears swam in my eyes, and I wanted to scream, Mother, the man you call my only support is with another woman right now. For her, he has made it so I can never have children of my own. There were twelve hours until my departure from the capital. I hadn’t even begun to pack my belongings when Alaric, without a moment’s delay, brought Liana to the manor. When I went to the side courtyard, I found Alaric himself, axe in hand, chopping down the twin Silverwood trees he had planted for me as a symbol of our love. He looked up, his gaze faltering when it met mine. He stood at the courtyard gate, holding the hand of Liana, who was dressed in a striking crimson gown. He, so handsome; she, so exquisitely beautiful. They looked like a pair destined for each other. Liana, her face a mask of false concern, walked towards me, one hand on her belly. “The maids told me these were your favorite trees, sister,” she sighed. “It’s all my fault. I only mentioned that the scent of the blossoms made me feel unwell, and His Grace insisted on cutting them down.” She clutched Alaric’s arm, looking at me with wide, innocent eyes. “I never wanted to marry him before you, sister. But the Duke worries so for the child in my womb.” Her eyes raked over me, a cruel glint within them. “It is only after becoming a mother myself that I’ve learned… a woman’s life is one thing before she is a mother, and quite another after. It is a burden you, thankfully, will never have to bear.” Every word was a poisoned dart aimed directly at my heart. But Alaric didn’t care. He pulled her protectively behind him and said to me, his voice placating, “Liana is with child. Don’t lower yourself to her level.” He had no memory of the promise he made me five years ago, before he, my father, and my brothers rode off to war against the northern hordes. He had blushed and sworn three things to me. First, that when he returned victorious, my father and brothers would be with him, safe and sound. Second, that when he had won his glory, he would make me his wife. Third, that in this life, he would take no other. But in the end, my father had died taking a flurry of blades meant for Alaric. My brother had been drawn and quartered by the enemy while covering Alaric’s retreat. When my mother heard the news, she wept tears of blood until she fell ill and never recovered. And Alaric, his glory won, now intended to marry the woman he brought back from the Northmarch. He had broken all three promises. I looked at him, and he finally seemed to notice me, asking absently: 3 “Evelyn, the wind is cold. Where are you going with those bags?” I pulled my lips into a thin, humorless line. “I’m returning to my family home.” “Oh, good,” Liana said, her smile wide, but her eyes filled with scorn and malice. “For a moment, I was worried you were angry with me and wouldn't be attending my wedding to Alaric.” Her gaze dropped and she suddenly noticed the pair of Twin Dove Clasps I held in my hand. Her eyes lit up, and without asking, she snatched them from me. “Oh, I like these. Alaric, darling, make your sister give them to me, won’t you?” Alaric’s expression froze. He looked at me, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. But before he could speak, I said, my voice devoid of all emotion, “You may have them.” For a second, I saw utter disbelief in Alaric’s eyes. Liana’s triumphant smile also faltered. She had just noticed the inscription on the clasps: our two names, intertwined. They were our betrothal gift. A vicious light entered her eyes. She raised the clasps high and smashed them onto the ground. “What worthless trinkets,” she spat. “They look fine from a distance, but up close, they’re as common as scrap metal.” With a sharp crack, the two clasps broke into four pieces, lying amidst the muddy, fallen petals of the Silverwood trees. Just like my five years of love for Alaric. I gave a desolate smile. There was nothing left to hold on to. I turned to leave. Seeing my frail figure, so thin it looked as if the wind might blow me away, a strange, inexplicable panic seized Alaric. “Wait!” I turned back, my gaze calm and empty. “I promise you,” he said, his voice earnest. “After the wedding tomorrow, I will go with you to see your mother.” A sharp pain lanced through my heart, not for him, but for my mother. I hid my burning eyes and said nothing. There was no point. There were only four hours left until my departure from the capital. My mother’s funeral was to be held on the exact same day as Alaric and Liana’s wedding. I held my mother’s urn, every step feeling as if I were walking on the blades of knives, the pain searing through my flesh and into my very bones. White mourning papers filled the air like snow. As I rounded a corner, I came face to face with Alaric. He was dressed in celebratory red, mounted on a magnificent warhorse, his face beaming with joy. Behind him was Liana’s grand bridal carriage, carried by eight men, followed by a procession of wedding gifts that stretched for a mile. The joyous music and the cheers of the crowd filled the streets. Until I appeared, holding my mother’s urn, dressed in simple, white mourning clothes. It was as if a slash of white had cut through a sea of red. The crowd fell silent. Seeing me, the smile on Alaric’s face froze. His eyes filled with anger. “Evelyn,” he hissed, “must you humiliate me like this on my wedding day?” The old me would have cried, would have defended myself. But this time, I felt nothing. Not a single ripple in the dead calm of my heart. I simply said, “Move.” Alaric looked at me as if I were a stranger. Liana, however, suddenly stepped down from her carriage, her face streaked with tears. “Lady Evelyn, I know you do not like me, but you must think of Alaric!” She sobbed. “You are already unable to bear children! Are you trying to drive me to my death by making such a scene at my wedding?” “Fine! I will die, then!” She screamed and threw herself headfirst towards the carriage wheel. Alaric, panicked, caught her and then turned on me, his voice frigid. “Evelyn, have you not caused enough trouble? Will you not be satisfied until Liana is dead?” At his words, the crowd’s gaze turned on me, filled with scorn. “Is that the woman Duke Alaric was meant to marry? So jealous and without virtue.” “To think she would use such a tactic to force her husband’s hand. What a spectacle.” I heard their whispers, but my heart remained as still and silent as a pool of stagnant water. Alaric bit his lip. My lonely figure in the crowd reminded him of something, and for a moment, he looked lost. He reached out a hand, as if to touch me, but I shoved it away. “Don’t touch me!” My reaction seemed to extinguish the last flicker of gentleness in his eyes, leaving them cold as ice. He pushed the weeping Liana towards me. “Apologize to Liana. Now,” he commanded. “Or else—” He never finished his sentence. Nine royal attendants, all dressed in white mourning robes, cut through the red silk and celebratory music of the procession and stopped directly in front of him. “A decree from His Majesty the King!” The announcement sent a wave of confusion through the crowd. In the sudden jostling, the black cloth covering the urn in my hands fell away, revealing the nine characters I had carved myself: The Spirit Urn of the Lady Valerius, née Wang. A collective gasp went through the ducal wedding party. The crowd fell utterly silent. And in that instant, Alaric’s face went bone-white.
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