The irises had withered. As I trimmed the dead stalks, Riel stormed into my greenhouse, destroying the orchids I’d nurtured. His voice was cold and triumphant. “Touch anything of my mother’s, even a leaf, and you’ll repay it a hundredfold.” When I stayed silent, he repeated, “Sooner or later, I’ll have you thrown out of this manor.” Looking at this child I’d raised for seven years, I felt no anger—only a deep weariness. “Fine. As you wish.” Blood dripped from my hand, cut by the shears during our struggle. I ignored the wound and knelt among the soil and shattered petals, saving what roots remained. These orchids had followed me to a foreign land, surviving seven winters, only to be destroyed on an ordinary spring day. Not getting the usual lecture, Riel lost some bravado. He straightened and switched to flawless English: “Don’t play the victim. You deserve this. You took my mother’s place—this is the price.” I steadied myself and looked up. “Where did you hear that?” The twelve-year-old had sharp Western features and Eastern grace. “None of your business.” He shot me a defiant glare from pale blue eyes, then turned and left. That evening, after I’d bandaged my hand, there was a knock on the door. "Mrs. Rockefeller, the Master is asking for you." I nodded to show I understood. In the study, the man exuded an air of noble grace, his silver hair stirred by the occasional breeze from the open window. "I hear Riel was upset today." I stood silently in the doorway. He crossed his legs, his posture a study in languid, aristocratic ease, and tapped his long fingers on the polished surface of the desk. "He's just a child." "However…" His voice, once mild, took on a sudden chill. "You've been here for seven years. You should know what you can and cannot touch." I remained silent. It didn't matter that those irises had sprung from a few seeds the lady of the house had scattered carelessly years ago. They were not mine to dispose of. Right now, I had no energy to argue. I simply obeyed. "Yes." The icy atmosphere thawed slightly. "Come here," the man behind the desk commanded. I moved toward him, but for the first time, I recoiled from the possessive, invasive nature of his kiss. Alander's expression darkened, his tone laced with displeasure. "Don't forget your place." My place? For a moment, I was lost. "You are my wife," he murmured, his breath hot against my earlobe. And then I remembered. It had been seven years since my sister's death, seven years since my family had forced me into this marriage. I still held that hollow title. But the master of the house was a man consumed by devotion to his deceased wife. And so, I, his nominal second wife, was seen by everyone as nothing more than the head housekeeper. I smoothed the rumpled fabric of my collar and took a step back. "Mr. Rockefeller, there's something I need to say." Alander's brow furrowed. "The contract between our families has expired. I believe it's time for me to leave." "Are you still angry with Riel?" Alander's voice was cold. "It was just a few plants. I've had someone source several pots of the 'Crowned Jade' orchid. They'll be delivered this evening." It wasn't about the poor, ruined flowers. I looked at the silver-haired man before me and shook my head. "The seven years are up. The contract is automatically terminated. It's time for me to go." The Rockefellers were one of Rosewood's most illustrious families. Years ago, Alander's love for Diana Windsor had allowed the Windsor family to secure their position by marrying into such a powerful clan. After Diana's untimely death, the Windsors had used the pretense of caring for the child and their shared history to sign a seven-year marriage contract with Alander. Alander’s cold expression softened slightly. "Are you asking to renew the contract?" "No. I'm asking for a divorce." As I spoke, I pulled a letter from my pocket. "All the details for the handover are written in here." Realizing this wasn't a tantrum, Alander's face hardened. "Juliana." "I don't appreciate jokes." A genuine smile touched my lips. "Sir, if you're concerned about the manor, I've already found a suitable replacement for the head housekeeper position." "Riel is your blood. After seven years, you can just walk away?" Alander's voice was dangerously low. I was already turning toward the door. Hearing his words, I glanced back over my shoulder. "But he hates me more than anyone, doesn't he?" … My mother's tearful pleas from years ago were still vivid in my memory. "He's only five years old, Juliana. He's lost his mother." "Living in that den of wolves, how will he ever survive?" Perhaps I was a fool. Perhaps I was just that desperate for a family's affection. When I looked into that little boy's clear, amber eyes, my resolve crumbled. "I'm your aunt," I had told him. "I'm your family." And the small, trembling child had launched himself into my arms. Back then, I never could have imagined that the boy with the cherubic face would one day hate me with such passion. … In the end, I couldn't leave the manor just yet. Not only were there still matters to hand over, but my mother, Mrs. Windsor, had arrived and was now kneeling before me. "If you leave, what will happen to the Windsor family? To your father?" Her meticulously applied makeup was streaked with tears. I, however, felt a cold detachment. In Rosewood, the Windsor family's entire standing was built upon their connection to the Rockefellers. For the sake of that connection, she had knelt just like this seven years ago. Back then, I had been helpless, and I had married him. I helped her to her feet. "The floor is cold." Mrs. Windsor wiped her tears. "I knew you were a sensible girl." "No matter what, blood is thicker than water. You take good care of Riel, and our family will continue to have a place in this city." I walked her to the door. A blonde, blue-eyed maid saw us and smirked with open contempt. "As if she'd ever leave the Rockefeller family." "My God, I lost the bet again." "She schemed her way in here and clung on for seven years. Who besides herself has ever treated her like the lady of the house?" I was used to the whispers. During my first six months here, my English was so poor that people would mock me to my face, and I wouldn't even flinch. As we reached the main entrance, my mother was still chattering away. "I hear Alander has another new flame causing trouble at the gates." "Seven years, and you still haven't learned how to handle a man? You need to be smarter, learn how to capture his heart." "If you were half the woman Diana was, I wouldn't have to… sigh…" She didn't finish, but I understood. Once outside, I asked, "Are Father and my brother doing well?" My mother’s eyes darted around before she sighed dramatically. "Thanks to Mr. Rockefeller's generosity, they have enough to eat. It keeps the worry from turning their hair gray." "But I haven't had a single good day here," I said softly. "And there's no one to be generous with me." To the Windsor family, I was a button holding their lavish life together. To outsiders, I was a greedy social climber who had shamelessly married into wealth, a glorified housekeeper who would smile and placidly deal with her husband's mistresses. To Alander, I was an insignificant stranger he tolerated only because of a passing resemblance to his dead wife. And to Riel, I was a scheming woman trying to replace his mother. Every day, I played a multitude of roles for a multitude of people. I could be anyone but myself. "I am leaving. As for what the Windsor family will do…" I lowered my voice. "Surely you can't rely on an illegitimate daughter like me, can you?" "So, you know." My mother’s face tightened with alarm. I simply smiled. I hadn't known at first. I didn't know why my brother and sister were sent abroad while I, at five years old, was left behind with only an old nanny, summoned back only when I was needed. I didn't know why all my efforts never earned me a single glance of approval from my family. I wanted to be loved by my mother, gently, like my sister Diana was. I wanted to carry my father's hopes and responsibilities, like my brother did. But nothing I did ever mattered. It wasn't until recent years that I began to notice the inconsistencies, and piece by piece, I uncovered the truth. I was my father's illegitimate daughter. That's why Mrs. Windsor despised me, why the family would never truly accept me. But they hadn't let me starve. They had raised me, fulfilling their basic duty. And in return, I had fulfilled mine, honoring the seven-year contract and preserving the alliance. "I've done more than enough. My debt is paid." The shock on my mother's face hardened into cold fury. "Then you should also know that without the Rockefellers, without the Windsors, you are nothing." I turned away. "Mrs. Windsor, perhaps you should be more concerned with your own future." Then I walked back into the manor. … I took a detour through the garden. The mess had been cleaned up. The newly delivered 'Crowned Jade' orchids were already in place, their leaves unfurling. They looked identical to the ones I had grown. I walked over, dug the seeds I had planted from the soil, and carefully repotted them in a small flower pot. When I returned to my wing of the house, I stopped short at the bottom of the stairs. My bedroom door was wide open. My suitcase lay by the landing, its contents strewn across the floor, marred with footprints. Clutching the little flower pot, I froze. Riel emerged from the room, standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at me. He kicked the suitcase, sending it tumbling down the steps. I dodged out of the way as it clattered to the marble floor. "Weren't you leaving? I'm just helping you," he sneered. "What's that little game you people play? Hard to get?" "Do you really think my father falls for that kind of act?" The boy's face was a mask of arrogance, his disgust for me unconcealed. I walked up the stairs, one step at a time, closing the distance until I stood right in front of him. His voice tightened. "What do you want?" At twelve, his frame was still slight. He took an involuntary step back, intimidated by my proximity. I looked at the childish face before me. "Why do you hate me so much?" When he was little, he had been so attached to me. I helped him through the grief of losing his mother, taught him Chinese, studied with him, cooked for him. But as he grew older, he pushed me away, becoming convinced that I was only kind to him for my own selfish gain. "You really don't know?" Riel snapped impatiently. "Did Eleonora say something to you?" I pressed. I understood my mother's methods. She wanted to use me to keep the Rockefellers close, but she also couldn't bear the thought of Riel and me becoming too attached, of losing her own leverage. A flicker in Riel's eyes told me I was right. "A few words from someone else can sway your judgment so easily," I said, my voice steady. "You really are a long way from meeting your father's standards for an heir." "But you're just a child. I don't blame you. That doesn't mean I forgive you, either." Riel glared at me. "If you didn't have such filthy ambitions, you wouldn't be here, enjoying the status and privilege that belong to my mother." "I never wanted any of this," I said, my voice sharp. He scoffed. "Only because you know that in Father's heart, you could never compare to her." Looking at the smug satisfaction in his eyes, my voice turned to ice. "Riel Rockefeller, I don't owe you a thing." "But I have failed. I've raised an ungrateful child." "But that's alright. I don't think we'll ever see each other again." Children really are the worst. Even the ones you raise yourself. I stepped over the scattered clothes, retrieved my important documents from a drawer, and walked out, holding my little flower pot. An indignant shout followed me. "If you walk out that door, you'll never set foot in Rose Manor again!" "Running away is a childish trick! No one will care!" I didn't slow my pace. No one saw me off. There were only the scrutinizing gazes of the maids and their incessant whispers. "Is she really leaving?" "Probably just throwing a fit because the Master and the young master don't pay her enough attention." "I bet she'll be back in a few days." "A pity. I thought she was a smart one. The Master is never short of other women." Outside Rose Manor, the sun was warm and gentle. Alander's other butler was waiting at the main gate, a polite smile on his face. "The Master is very busy and likely won't have time to deal with the mistress's moods. Please take these next few days to calm down. The money has already been transferred to your account." The long, cold nights were over. Without a backward glance, I walked out into the blinding sunlight. I would never come back here again. I found a place and methodically erased every trace of "Juliana Windsor," including the bank account and phone number. As planned, I boarded the next flight back to my home country. The plane ascended, gliding through a sea of clouds. I held my small pot of orchids and watched as the moon began to etch its pale outline against the light blue sky. I had returned. I received my new ID. On it were two simple words: Jules. From now on, there would be no more Juliana Windsor, a woman bound by the will of others. There would only be Jules, a woman who was free. I had grown up in the city, but I had no intention of going back. It would feel too much like living under the shadow of the Windsor family. I went to a small, quiet town called Havenwood. It was a place of canals and bridges, where spring seemed to last all year—the perfect place for growing flowers. The few stock market tips I'd picked up from my time around Alander had paid off; my secret investments had earned me enough to live out the rest of my days in this peaceful town. I bought a small house with a front yard and planted my seeds. The long journey had taken its toll on the delicate roots. I spent my days indoors, devouring books on horticulture and consulting with experts online. After a month, the dormant roots began to show signs of life. I was overjoyed. Just then, Havenwood's annual Orchid Exhibition began. On a whim, I went to have a look and ended up making a few like-minded friends. Some of the older gentlemen were astonished to hear I had successfully cultivated 'Crowned Jade' orchids in my previous environment. They didn't believe me until I showed them photos, at which point they were full of admiration. The sudden quiet in my life was strange, but I cherished it. With time on my hands, I invested in a local flower cultivation center. Between tending my own garden and occasionally acting as a consultant for my new friends, the days passed pleasantly. One afternoon, as I was leaving the center, my phone rang with an unknown number. I answered, but the line was silent. After a few "hellos" with no reply, I hung up. It was a weekday evening, and the streets were quiet. I ducked into a small restaurant, ordered a few local specialties and a small glass of wine, and sipped it slowly. Outside, the setting sun painted the sky in fiery hues, casting a warm, dazzling glow across the cobblestone street. After a few sips, my head started to feel light. Silhouetted against the light, a tall figure looked hauntingly familiar. I shook my head. I could usually hold my liquor, but perhaps because I'd rarely drunk during my years at Rose Manor, I was feeling the effects more than I expected. For a dizzying moment, I thought I was seeing Alander. Then I laughed at myself. As if he would ever come looking for me in a small, insignificant place like this. But the figure was getting closer. The black silhouette sharpened, resolving into a man with silver hair and blue eyes, his face a mask of noble indifference, so perfect it seemed blessed by the gods. "Juliana. It's time to come home."
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