My only friend was from another world. Her mission here, she said, was to save me. She believed in me, protected me, and poured everything she had into helping my husband claim the imperial throne. In the end, she found a love she believed was true, a man she would die for. This world, she told me, had finally given her a home. She wanted to stay. But then I came galloping back from the frontier, riding my horse to its death. All I found was her body, pale and frail, lying cold as ice in a lonely jade coffin. Beside it, her husband stood frozen, a silent statue of a man. Her young son whispered with relief, "Good. I never wanted a crazy woman for a mother anyway." My gaze fell upon the woman standing beside them, dabbing at false tears. And I thought, I don't have to pretend anymore. After today, they would learn what a real monster was. 1 When Marcia slit her wrist, there was no hesitation. The physician who examined her said the gash was terrifyingly deep—a wound inflicted by someone with no will to live. A normal person, he’d whispered, could never be so cruel to themselves. Especially not Marcia, who was always so afraid of pain. She was the kind of girl who’d cry over a paper cut, milking it for one of my honeyed cakes. I stared down at her in the jade coffin. Except for the stark pallor of her skin, she almost looked alive. Her beloved husband, Adrian, stood beside the coffin. At his side was a woman in a delicate pink dress, her hand resting on the shoulder of a young boy who looked so much like Marcia it made my heart ache. I let my eyes travel over this pretty little scene, and I finally understood why Marcia had lost all hope. The woman in pink stepped forward and dipped into a flawless curtsy. “Your Majesty, I wish you peace.” I stared at her, my eyes cold, letting her hang in that uncomfortable bow. I watched the muscles in her thighs tremble. My lady-in-waiting moved without a word. A sharp crack echoed as her boot met the back of the woman’s knee. She crumpled to the floor with a pathetic thud, and only then did the knot in my brow begin to loosen. “Aunt Serena!” two voices cried out. The boy, Noah, rushed forward to help her up, but he froze when he saw the look on my face. Adrian simply stared at the coffin, lost to the world, oblivious. It was Serena who saved herself. Without a word of complaint, she lowered her head to the floor. “A thousand years to Your Majesty,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It was this humble woman’s ignorance. I beg the Queen’s forgiveness.” My eyes narrowed. She was clever, this Serena. She knew I was a storm of rage, and that no words, especially from Adrian or his son, could calm me. Their pleas would only fuel my fire. Submission was her only weapon, a clever way to corner me. Marcia never stood a chance against her. I took two steps forward, my silk slippers, embroidered with shimmering thread, pressing down on the fine fabric of her dress. A servant silently placed a chair behind me. I took Serena’s wrist in my hand. A circlet of shimmering green jade graced her skin. It wasn't a priceless treasure, but I knew what it was. It was the prize Marcia’s seven-year-old son, Noah, had won at the Royal Academy. He had boasted to all his friends that he would win it for his mother. It was I who had instructed the headmaster to ensure Noah won that prize. And now, it was on another woman’s wrist. My fingers closed around the jade. With a sharp, brutal tug, I ripped it from her arm. “My hand slipped,” I said, my voice sweet as poison. “You mustn’t blame me.” Two raw, red marks bloomed on her pale skin, angry and vicious. “This servant wouldn’t dare,” she choked out, biting her lip, looking every bit as pitiful as her name suggested. Marcia would have fallen for that act. Whenever she was angry with me, I would put on the same face, and her resolve would melt. I could coax anything from her then. But who was Serena to me? My hand drifted to her earlobe, where a pair of magnificent pearls dangled. They were my wedding gift to Marcia. I ripped them free without a shred of mercy. Blood streamed from the torn flesh. Noah could no longer contain himself and fell to his knees beside her. “Auntie Brenda, please! I gave them to Auntie Serena! Mother said I could! Please don’t hurt her!” I toyed with the blood-streaked pearls, my expression placid. “And what if I decide to punish her anyway?” Without Marcia, Noah was nothing more than a piece of flesh in my eyes. I had rarely spoken to him with such chilling coldness. He stumbled forward, grabbing at the hem of my gown, trying to win me over with the childish charm that always worked before. My eyes flashed. A guard stepped forward, his blade a silver blur, aimed for Noah's arm. “What filth dares to touch the Queen!” I turned away from the terrified boy, his face a mask of white, and gestured for my guards to take Marcia’s coffin. As if waking from a trance, Adrian drew his sword, blocking their path. “No one will take Marcia from me!” Adrian was a high-ranking official, a close confidant of the Emperor, William. My guards hesitated, unwilling to harm him. Fine. I would do it myself. My own sword lunged for his heart, without a flicker of doubt. But in the instant before the steel met his skin, a heavy blow struck the back of my neck. Darkness swallowed me whole. 2 It was William. Though the servants wouldn't dare say it aloud, there was only one person in the entire empire who would lay a hand on me. He didn’t have the courage to face me himself. He sent an imperial decree instead, posthumously naming Marcia a Grand Princess. I shredded the decree with the golden hairpin he had given me. The palace staff knelt in a silent sea around me. The Serene Palace was deathly quiet until William finally arrived. “Brenda,” he said, his voice strained. “Marcia is gone. If you are not satisfied, I can grant her even greater honors.” “How about I kill Serena,” I replied sweetly, “and you can grant her the title of Empress?” William fell silent. “I want them to join Marcia in death.” “That’s impossible.” “Fine.” My answer was so swift it caught him off guard. He looked up, startled. “What did you say?” “I said, fine.” I would do it my way. I forbade anyone from holding a memorial for Marcia—none of them were worthy. Then, I sent my people to the Adrian’s estate to reclaim everything that had ever belonged to her. Adrian met them in the courtyard, sword in hand. Serena knelt beside him, biting her lip, a silent, suffering statue. I merely lifted a hand. My guards swarmed in, pinning Adrian to the ground. His knees slammed onto the marble floor with a sickening crack. He had knelt before me just like this once, years ago, when he begged for Marcia’s hand. I had discovered their secret affair and, to protect Marcia’s reputation, forbade them from seeing each other. So Adrian knelt before the entire court, pleading for me to approve their marriage. Without my blessing, not even his deep friendship with William could secure him an imperial decree. Back then, I had asked Marcia, “If you marry him, you can never go back.” A blush crept up her cheeks. “Brenda, he swore he would have only me for the rest of his life. I want to try.” “And if you’re wrong?” “Then I’m wrong.” Marcia, for all her gentle looks, was fiercely intelligent and stubborn. I knew that better than anyone. Her decision to leave this world was as absolute as her decision to choose Adrian had been. She used to teach me when we were young. “The greatest victory is not won on the battlefield,” she’d say, “but in the mind.” 3 I was only eight years old then. My half-sister, the daughter of my father’s mistress, had stolen a brocade robe—a final gift from my deceased mother. I went to my father. “A wildcat tore the robe,” he told me. “Father will buy you a new one.” Later, passing my half-sister’s courtyard, I heard her showing it off to the other girls, bragging about the magnificent fabric, the exquisite embroidery, the precious gems sewn into the collar. As they gasped in admiration, I walked into their circle, scissors in hand. I pinned her to the ground and shredded the robe right off her body, slicing it into ribbons. When my father arrived, my half-sister had forgotten how to cry. She only stared in terror until she saw him, then she started screaming for help. I stood over her, holding the blood-tipped scissors, and looked my father dead in the eye. “A wildcat tore my robe,” I said calmly. “Remember to buy me a new one, Father.” Perhaps my gaze was too serene, too unnerving. He forgot to scold me. I walked away through the path the silent, stunned crowd made for me. The next day, an identical robe was delivered to my chambers. I heard my half-sister’s mother had to empty her entire savings to pay for the physicians. I never saw her near my side of the estate again. Whispers about me spread through the capital. They said I was cruel, bloodthirsty, a monster who stalked the night. It was then that Marcia appeared in my life. The daughter of the Minister of Rites pushed me into a lake. I clawed my way back to the bank, grabbed her by the hair, and threw her in. She nearly drowned. The Minister went to the Emperor himself, demanding my father punish me severely. The Emperor asked for witnesses, but no one dared speak for me. Except for Marcia. “It was Lady Eleanor who accosted Lady Brenda first,” she said, her voice clear and steady. “If there is to be punishment, it should be delivered equally.” The Emperor, upon learning the truth, did not punish me. Instead, he ordered the Minister of Rites to better discipline his own child. Before, my only solution was to destroy anyone who wronged me. But Marcia taught me something new. Don’t ruin yourself just to punish someone else, she’d say. It’s not worth it. The goal is to make them suffer while ensuring they can never blame you. I warned her to stay away. “I’m poison,” I told her. Marcia just smiled. “Don’t worry. I brought the antidote.” After that, whenever I made a mess, Marcia was there to clean it up. The whispers stopped. No one called me a monster anymore. Instead, they saw a poor, motherless girl, bullied by her stepmother and half-sister. I once asked her why she helped me. She joked that with my status and name, I was destined to marry into the royal family, and she wanted to hitch her wagon to my star. I didn’t believe her. It wasn’t until my engagement to the Crown Prince, William, was announced that she told me the truth. She was from another world, she confessed, sent here to save me. Without her intervention, I was on a path to destroy the entire dynasty. But now, my life was on the right track. It was time for her to leave. To return to her world, she said, her physical body here had to die. She spoke of her home with such love. I couldn’t force her to stay. It was Adrian who convinced her. And at the time, I was happy for them. But I never imagined there would be a Serena. 4 Marcia’s death had indeed shaken Adrian, but his grief was a fleeting storm. Soon enough, he would forget his sins and resume his brilliant, glittering life. But my Marcia would be buried in the cold, lonely earth. I would not allow it. With Adrian forced to kneel in his own courtyard, my men brought out the wedding robes he and Marcia had worn. “These were Lady Marcia’s wedding garments.” I idly examined my fingernails. “Burn them.” “This is the furniture Lady Marcia purchased.” “Smash it.” “This is…” I made Adrian, Serena, and Noah watch as I systematically erased every trace of Marcia’s existence. Noah was still too young to understand, but Adrian’s eyes were bloodshot with fury. He growled like a caged animal. “Stop it! Stop! Marcia will come back! She’s just angry with me, that’s all… just like all the other times…” I clicked my tongue. Who was he trying to fool? My soldiers were efficient. Soon, the entire estate was stripped bare. Without Marcia’s dowry, the house was just an empty shell. This family had drunk her blood and then driven her to a cliff’s edge. I closed my eyes, a slow smile spreading across my lips. “Since you two are so deeply in love, I shall grant you a boon. I hereby decree that Serena is your lawful wife. From this day forward, Noah is her son.” Serena’s eyes lit up with disbelief and joy. As she was about to prostrate herself in gratitude, Adrian finally spoke. “I will have only one wife in this life—Marcia!” But Noah had already scrambled to Serena’s side, his voice ringing with delight. “Mother! I finally get to call you my mother! I never liked that old tigress anyway.” He then turned to his father. “Dad, didn’t you always say Auntie Serena was the kindest woman in the world?” Adrian’s face went white. He had no answer. I let out a soft laugh and left behind the royal decree of marriage. Weren’t they soulmates? Well, now they had their wish. No need to tarnish Marcia’s name any further. As I left, I tossed a single sheet of paper at Adrian’s feet. Two words were written on it, stark and clear: Decree of Severance. “Adrian,” I called back, “you are not worthy to share her grave.”
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