Chapter 3

A month later, Chloe came back to Belmere.

I overheard it from the maids chatting in the hall.

"Did you hear? Miss Moore is back. The city gates were so jammed that one couldn't squeeze through. Everyone was dying to catch a glimpse of the top beauty."

"That's right. After three years, Miss Moore is even more gorgeous. Someone saw her from afar and said she's lovelier than ever."

"So what about Prince William?"

"Shh! Are you crazy? That's not something you should say."

Hannah came in. When she saw me leaning by the window, she went pale with fright. She quickly shooed the gossiping maids away.

"Lady Yvette, please don't take it to heart," she said softly, edging closer. "Those girls are being silly, talking nonsense."

"I'm not taking it to heart," I said.

Hannah hesitated, then looked at me, her eyes filling with tears again.

I knew exactly what she was thinking.

Hannah was worried. My face was ruined, yet William had been gentle and caring toward me. Now that Chloe was back, what if he turned his affections to her? What would become of me then?

Silly girl.

William's heart was never with me.

I should've known all along.

On our wedding night, William got drunk, held me close, and called out "Chloe." I thought I might have misheard.

Later, he would sometimes stare at me, but he was not truly seeing me. His gaze drifted right through me, lost somewhere far away. I always assumed he was thinking about politics or court affairs.

Once, he painted a portrait and said it was of a beautiful woman. I saw it and praised him, telling him how talented he was. He only smiled, tucked the painting away, and claimed it was a mere doodle, not worth mentioning.

The woman in the portrait was clearly Chloe. I was so clueless back then. I did not even realize the truth.

I only thought the woman in the painting shared some features with me, and I felt a quiet joy, believing this was how William saw me in his heart.

Looking back now, it felt almost ridiculous.

"Lady Yvette, it's time to change your dressings," Hannah said softly.

I nodded, returned to the bed, and lay down.

While Hannah changed my dressings, I heard a commotion outside.

"Miss Moore's here. She's come to see Lady Yvette."

Hannah's hand trembled so badly that she nearly jabbed the ointment right into my eye.

I caught her hand, keeping my voice steady. "Go on."

The door swung open.

A sweet scent swept into the room.

I glanced over and saw a silhouette standing in the doorway.

Chloe wore a moon-white gown with a pale jade-green cloak draped over her shoulders. She looked as if she had stepped straight out of a painting.

Sunlight streamed in from behind her, casting a golden halo around her figure. Her skin was as fair as snow, her features perfectly delicate.

Chloe. My dear cousin.

She stood there, looking at me.

I looked back at her.

Her gaze swept across my face, paused for a heartbeat, then quickly returned to normal. She hurried over, took my hand, and her eyes immediately glistened with tears. "Yvette, how could this happen to you?"

She broke down in tears.

Tears streamed down like beads from a broken string, falling onto our intertwined hands.

She cried so bitterly, so sincerely, that anyone watching would have said, "Now that is true sisterly affection."

I watched Chloe cry, but my heart was strangely calm.

I recalled the things I overheard that day. "Miss Moore is proud and haughty. She cannot bear to be overshadowed by anyone.

"With Lady Yvette around, Miss Moore will never escape comparisons and gossip, even after she marries into the family."

Was Chloe truly grieving for me, or was she simply relieved that no one would ever compare to her again?

"Yvette, why aren't you saying anything?" Chloe looked up at me, tears in her eyes. "Do you blame me? Blame me for being gone these three years and not taking care of you?"

"No," I replied.

Chloe paused, as if she hadn't expected me to be so calm.

She reached out, wanting to touch my face.

I turned my head away, avoiding her hand.

Her hand hung awkwardly in the air before she slowly pulled it back, then wiped her tears with a handkerchief.

"Yvette, don't be afraid. I'm back now, and I'll take care of you from now on," Chloe said softly. "What did the royal physician say? Is there still hope? Should I ask my father to help you find a better doctor?"

"No need," I replied.

"How can you say that?" Chloe grew anxious. "Your face... You're still so young. How could this happen to you?"

She broke down in tears again.

She wept so softly and sorrowfully that even I could not help but pity her.

I looked at her and suddenly smiled.

I forgot how scary my smile looked now.

Chloe flinched and stepped back instinctively, then quickly realized how rude that must have seemed. She hurried forward and took my hand. "Yvette, please don't smile like that. It hurts to see you like this."

I pulled my hand away. "Chloe, you must be exhausted from your long journey. Hannah, see her out."

Hannah froze.

Chloe was stunned, too.

"Yvette?" She looked at me in disbelief. "You're kicking me out?"

"You just got back to Belmere. I'm sure you have plenty to deal with." I looked at her, speaking slowly and clearly, word by word. "I wouldn't want to frighten you with my face."

Chloe's face shifted, but she quickly masked it with concern. "Yvonne, what are you saying? We're cousins. How could you frighten me?"

"Even if you don't mind, I do," I interrupted her. "Hannah, see Chloe out."

Hannah snapped out of it and hurried over to bow. "Miss Moore, Lady Yvette needs to rest. Please leave."

Chloe stood up and glanced at me.

It was swift, fleeting. But I saw it clearly.

There was no trace of sympathy or pity in her eyes, only a strange kind of satisfaction. It was as if she felt relieved, reassured, even a bit smug. Then she left.

I lay in bed, staring up at the canopy, and suddenly let out a cold laugh.

Hannah was startled. "Lady Yvette, are you alright?"

"It's nothing," I said. "I wanted to laugh."

I was laughing at myself.

Three years, and I still couldn't see through Chloe.

How did Chloe get her title as Belmere's Brightest Lady? Her father hired a bunch of scholars to tweak her poems and recopied them over and over, all to hype her up.

And how did she become Belmere's Brightest Lady? Every time she went out, she wore a veil and only brought her most trusted maid. She'd let people catch a glimpse of her, and the rumors about her beauty kept growing.

She really was gorgeous. But she wasn't nearly as perfect as I'd imagined.

Suddenly, I couldn't help but wonder whether William knew what Chloe was really like.

Maybe he knew, maybe he didn't. Or maybe, he didn't care at all.

All William ever wanted was the title, Belmere's Brightest Lady. That reputation, that obsession, the thing he could never truly have. As for who Chloe actually was? He never cared.

Like he never really cared about who I was, either.

I was a substitute, a shadow, something to pass the time for three years.

Now that the original is back, it was only natural for the imitation to be tossed aside.