Chapter 3

William Blackwell, the heir of Blackwells—the child who once meant the world to me—suddenly came down with a high fever that just wouldn't break.

When the news reached me, I was reviewing the ledgers at the estate. My hand shook as I held the pen. A drop of ink bled across the clean page.

Imperial physicians came and went, but none of them had a solution. They said the boy had been frail since birth, weak from the womb, and needed constant, careful tending.

For three years, every meal William ate had passed through my hands. I chose the bread,…