Chapter 1
For five years after marrying Evander Draven, the Crown Prince, I thought we'd spend our lives together.
But I met a tragic end on the night of Emberfest.
Before the burning tower collapsed, he made his choice.
He left us behind, picking up Cordelia Vance, who had only sprained her ankle.
That was the moment I lost all hope for him.
When my three-year-old son, with a raging fever, was crushed beneath the stampede, I finally understood.
He never had a place for our child in his heart or for me.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the selection day of the Crown Prince's Concubine.
Victory was already within my grasp.
All that remained was the final showcase of my needle skills.
With a deliberate flick of my wrist, I spilled coffee onto my needlework.
*****
Brown stains spread rapidly across the Tapestry of a Hundred Blossoms. The gold and silver threads dissolved into a muddy mess.
The noblewoman beside me covered her mouth in shock.
The silence in the hall was shattered.
Stifled gasps echoed throughout the hall.
All eyes were glued to me from every direction.
Some looked shocked, while others couldn't hide their glee.
Up on the high dais, Queen Rowena slammed her delicate cup down.
The base cracked hard against the table, the jarring sound slicing through the tension in the hall.
"Calista, what do you think you're doing?"
Queen Rowena's words dropped like ice, and the whole room went silent.
"Such disrespect. Is this how the Wainwright family behaves?" Queen Rowena said.
I lowered my gaze.
My gaze swept over the ruined needlework.
A red mark bloomed across the back of my hand where the hot coffee had splashed.
A sharp pain pricked at my skin.
I didn't even frown.
There was none of the fear that haunted me in my previous life, only the exhilarating rush of shattering my own chains.
Rumors had been swirling around Sunstone Palace lately.
Evander had been breaking palace rules time and again, all for just Cordelia, an orphan.
He'd even had an official flogged for daring to speak up.
The King's desk was stacked high with reports from the Censorate.
Queen Rowena was in urgent need of a highborn heiress to shore up the Sunstone Palace.
Someone who could suppress that woman, unfit for the public eye.
In my previous life, I was nothing but the powerless figurehead chosen by that mother and son, Queen Rowena and the Crown Prince.
I used to think that the bond I shared with him as children would be enough to make him care for me.
I played the role of the Crown Prince's Concubine, never giving anyone a reason to find fault.
I cleaned up Cordelia's messes and shielded him from the schemes and slander of both the officials and the palace women.
But all I got in return was the inferno that tore through Emberfest, flames shooting up into the night sky.
What I saw was his back turned, leaving without a second thought.
What I heard was my little boy's cries fading beneath the stampede.
Whenever I closed my eyes, the sickening stench of blood invaded my nose.
My heart, which once beat for him, had already burned to ashes in that fire.
Now, standing once more in the Golden Hall, I looked up at the faces on the high dais, and a wave of sourness pooled at the back of my tongue.
I gathered up the elaborate skirts of my palace gown.
And I lowered myself in a deep reverence.
"I apologize for my clumsiness, Your Majesty, and for disturbing you."
My voice was steady, utterly even.
"My conduct is unrefined, and I am not worthy to stand as the Crown Prince's Concubine.
"Please, Your Majesty, pass your judgment."
The air grew tense; everyone was holding their breath.
No one expected me, the Wainwright heiress, known for the strict upbringing, to not even try to defend myself.
Just like that, I took all the blame, sealing off any chance of turning back.
From her seat on the high dais, Queen Rowena's gaze pressed down on me like a heavy weight, cold and commanding.
She scrutinized me, her eyes flashing with shock and frustration, frustration that her carefully laid plans had just been thrown into chaos.
If I'd handed over the needlework untouched, this marriage would have been set in stone.
But I ended that future with my own hands, ruthlessly and without a second thought.
"Enough."
Queen Rowena pressed her fingers to her brow, her voice laced with irritation.
"Since you claim to be unrefined, I won't insist.
"Calista, your candidacy is revoked."
"Step back. Don't make a spectacle of yourself," Queen Rowena ordered.
"I am grateful for Your Majesty's mercy," I said.
I lowered myself in a deep reverence, feeling the tense air seep through my skin, biting into my bones.
But it was nothing, not even a fraction of the chill I felt that night, holding my child's cold, lifeless body.
Steadying myself with the folds of my gown, I prepared to leave.
As I turned, a cold, weighty stare pressed against my back.
It was Evander.
He sat just below Queen Rowena, idly rubbing a white thumb ring between his fingers.
His icy gaze was locked onto me.
There was a flicker of shock and irritation in his eyes.
His brows tightened ever so slightly, barely noticeable.
In my previous life, I was always nervously seeking Evander's attention, chasing after his gaze.
If he even glanced at me, it'd make my whole day.
He got used to my eagerness to please.
He was used to keeping me in Sunstone Palace, basking in my submission.
Right now, he probably thought I was just pulling some coy act, pretending to be distant just to reel him in, getting jealous, and making a scene over Cordelia.
He was convinced I'd never leave him.
But Evander would never know that the flames of Emberfest had already turned everything between us to ashes long ago.
I met his eyes head-on.
I felt no resentment, no urge to blame him.
I dropped my gaze.
I didn't stare at him the way I used to.
I didn't feel any fear about losing my title as the Crown Prince's Concubine.