Empire Continent.
The Ashford estate was lit from end to end. Red lanterns swayed. Double-happiness papers were pasted everywhere, bright and harsh, like fire splashed over the whole manor.
In Qingxin Courtyard, Seraphina Ashford sat before a bronze mirror and looked at the room full of red.
Tomorrow was the day of her wedding to Crown Prince Tristan Hargrove.
She should have been happy. She was happy. And nervous too.
A maid at her side said with a smile, “Miss, everyone knows your alchemy is unmatched. Who would’ve thought your skill at troop deployment was just as fierce? This time, you helped Prince Chu take the Crown Prince seat. You’ve done more than anyone. His Highness will surely treat you well.”
At the mention of Tristan Hargrove, a shy light flickered in Seraphina’s eyes. The corners of her delicate lips lifted before she could stop them.
“His Highness has always treated me well. Our engagement came by chance, but now it can be called a good end after all.”
She had given everything.
She had cut down his obstacles, paved his road, and helped him climb to the position of Crown Prince. Though she had been heavily wounded for over a month, though her spiritual power had been badly drained, with the wedding so close, she had thought it was all worth it.
She endured the dull ache of her internal injuries and let Ivy Bell help her change and try on the wedding robe.
The robe had only been half put on when—
Bang.
The door was kicked open.
A squad of black-armored guards stormed in, long swords in hand, edges cold and sharp. Their killing intent filled the room in a blink.
Seraphina’s brows drew tight. A bad feeling stabbed through her heart without warning.
Ivy Bell frowned and barked, “How dare you! This is the Ashford estate! My lady is the future Crown Princess. Who sent you here?”
“It was this palace.”
A familiar voice came from outside.
Seraphina looked up. Her pupils shrank at once.
A figure in bright imperial yellow stepped in, five-clawed golden dragons embroidered across his robes. He looked every bit the Crown Prince—high, proud, untouchable. But his face was dark as storm clouds, and his eyes were cold enough to freeze blood.
At his side stood a woman in a moon-white dress, her arm looped through his as if it belonged there.
That woman was her clansister—Rosalind Ashford.
Rosalind looked at her with naked triumph. Her moist apricot eyes seemed soft, but mockery hid inside them like poison in a flower.
“So elder sister is trying on her wedding look,” she said lightly. “What a pity. You won’t be needing it.”
Seraphina’s brows locked even tighter.
“Rosalind Ashford, what do you mean?”
Her voice had already gone stiff. Unease churned in her eyes.
“Your Highness,” she said, staring at Tristan Hargrove, “why are you with her?”
And why were they standing so close?
Tristan’s face was icy, disgust plain as day. His gaze brushed over her for no more than a moment before moving away, like even looking at her was filth on his eyes.
“Rosalind,” he said coldly, “you tell her.”
Rosalind curved her lips. Her voice was soft as water, but the venom in her eyes was thick and black.
“His Highness is indeed marrying tomorrow. But the woman he will wed as Crown Princess... is me.”
It hit like a thunderbolt.
Seraphina froze, half believing she had heard wrong.
“Rosalind Ashford,” she said, voice shaking, “have you gone mad?”
Rosalind leaned gently against Tristan’s shoulder, smiling with smug delight, every inch of her face dripping scorn.
“Something this important—how could it be mistaken? Elder sister, His Highness has found proof that you colluded with the enemy and betrayed the nation. These Xuanjia Guards are here to drag you to prison.”
Seraphina was so angry she laughed.
“Colluded with the enemy? Betrayed the nation? I, Seraphina Ashford, have been loyal to the Emperor and loyal to Zhao Kingdom with all my heart. Since when did I ever betray my country?”
After saying that, she looked at Tristan again. Her eyes were already red, but she still refused to believe it.
“Your Highness, I helped you rise to the Crown Prince seat. You know what kind of person I am. Is there something you’re being forced into?”
He had loved her deeply.
He had once promised her one life, one world, one pair.
How could he turn around and treat her like this?
“My difficulty,” Tristan said, his face dark and savage, “is you, you ugly freak.”
Then he took out a letter.
“This was sent by General Lin from the frontier. It records your crimes in full. Men—throw this ugly freak into the death cell.”
The Xuanjia Guards surged forward at once.
In an instant, countless blades pointed straight at Seraphina.
If she moved even a little, the next breath would see her pierced full of holes.
Her whole body went cold.
At this point, what was there left not to understand?
Her true heart, every bit of it, had been used by Tristan Hargrove from the start.
Her hand trembled as it drifted to her lower belly. Bitterness welled up in her chest like blood.
She looked at Tristan, unwilling to give up, unwilling to accept it.
“But... I’m carrying your child.”
What had the child done wrong?