Chapter 6
Across the street, at a soup shop, Supreme Tribunal officers sat in small groups, sharing tables.
Lincoln and Stella shared one.
Lincoln, always so particular about cleanliness, let Stella pick the scallions from her own bowl and drop them into his.
He must have been working through the night, yet his expression held a rare ease.
Not only did he indulge Stella's mischief, but he even carefully tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.
I remembered the past ten years. Whenever Lincoln personally served food to Jonathan or to me, he never used his own fork.
Though from a humble background, he was courteous and proper in conduct, placing great importance on propriety.
He would never have been so... unorthodox.
I suddenly wondered... in those ten years, had he ever truly loved me?
Alice, terrified I'd be upset, hastily dropped the carriage curtain. "Don't look."
She blocked the car window, her words gritting through clenched teeth. "His Lordship acting like this... he'll regret it someday.
"There's no one better than you..."
But I just smiled and ordered the carriage to proceed. "Silly girl, don't worry.
"I won't let this wound me anymore."
I wouldn't give him a second chance to hurt me.
When I entered the Hall of Martial Honor, His Majesty stood with hands clasped behind his back, before a painting.
The eunuch announced me, but the Emperor didn't turn.
Just as I began to curtsey, he casually waved a hand. "Come here."
I approached the painting. A landscape of layered peaks and emerald rivers unfolded before me.
But what was truly astonishing wasn't the artistry. It was the inscription beside it:
[To secure the unalienable Rights of all people, to establish a just Government that derives its power from the consent of the governed, and to build a more perfect Union for generations to come.]
The calligraphy was vigorous and powerful.
It carried a tremendous force.
The signature read: [Stella Page.]
Such grand, far-reaching vision shook me to my core.
Tears welled in my eyes.
I prided myself on my noble upbringing, sitting on my grandfather's knee to read and learn reason at three years old.
Yet I was far less resilient and clear-sighted than Stella.
The Emperor gave a soft chuckle.
He asked me, "Do you regret choosing Lincoln Hart all those years?"
I lowered my head, silent.
The current Emperor was my grandfather's most prized disciple.
In the late Emperor's final years, doting on his youngest son, he repeatedly contemplated deposing the Crown Prince.
It was my grandfather who stepped in each time to counsel and block those moves. At the most critical moment, he even staked his own life to force the Emperor's hand.
The Dowager Empress, grateful for Grandfather's protection, often summoned me to the palace for companionship.
His Majesty and I grew up together.
He was a few years older; by the time I came of age, he had already established his Empress and consorts.
That was why my grandfather repeatedly refused the Dowager's proposals for me to enter the palace.
Now he asked if I regretted it.
I did regret rashly trusting Lincoln back then, but I did not regret refusing the palace.
The Emperor wasn't angered by my silence.
He looked back at the painting, his tone casual. "I've read that coroner's autopsy reports. She does have skill.
"And she seems a suitable match for Lord Hart."
He raised an eyebrow at me. "So, the husband you chose for yourself... turns out to be nothing special after all.
"Do I need to intervene on your behalf?"
Those words stirred something in me.
After that hurried marriage, feeling I had let down the Dowager and His Majesty, I never entered the palace except for mandatory parties.
Yet after all these years, His Majesty still remembered our old bond, was still willing to protect me.
I shook my head and withdrew from my sleeve the late Emperor's pardon token bestowed upon my grandfather.
I said, "I wish to exchange this for one decree from Your Majesty. A decree of divorce."
The Emperor's smile slowly faded.
He sighed softly.
Reaching out, he ruffled my hair just as he had when we were children. "In the end, even his most cherished jewel of a granddaughter has suffered a grievous wrong."
My nose stung; tears rolled down my cheeks.
The Emperor tapped my head in mock exasperation. "Hopeless. I titled you Princess Anna precisely so you could throw your weight around. Who told you to swallow your bitterness?
"Your grandfather is a titan of literary circles, with disciples across the land. Your father is a high-ranking regional official, one step away from a peerage and ministerial rank. How much influence do you have at your disposal?
"How did you end up living so... meekly?"
Too annoyed, he poked my lowered head again. "Go wait behind the screen. I'll seek justice for you shortly."
He muttered under his breath, "A mere coroner, daring to plagiarize..."
Then, as I looked up at his words, he waved a dismissive hand, urging me to hide quickly.
Behind the screen, I drank two cups of water, my mind gradually calming.
Not long after, Lincoln and Stella were summoned for an audience.
The Emperor had finished reviewing a stack of memorials.
He gave them no time to react, picking up one memorial from his desk and hurling it to the floor with a thud, his voice sharp. "A report from the Capital Prefecture."