Chapter 1

As the Grand Princess, I was stunned to discover that the beloved daughter I had raised for fourteen years was never mine. While I was weak and unconscious after labor, my maid Leila had switched our babies.

Her daughter grew up in Princess's Manor, living in luxury under my care. I taught her grace and etiquette, and everyone praised her for having a royal bearing.

Meanwhile, my real daughter, Alena, was secretly sent to a remote farm. She grew up doing hard labor every day, living a life worse than that of any ordinary girl.

The day I brought Alena home, I saw sun-burnt skin, calloused hands, and the clearest eyes I had ever seen.

Furious, I cast the fake heiress Juliette out, but my husband and son threw themselves in my way.

My husband argued, "Juliette has been with us all these years. She's become one of Kinsmor's most popular young ladies. She is destined to marry an heir from a powerful family.

"Alena was raised in hardship. She doesn't know our ways. Even if you bring her back, she'll only disgrace us."

My son was even more blunt. "Mother, what are you thinking? Blood doesn't decide everything. The bonds we've built matter more.

"Alena clearly doesn't belong in our class. If people in Kinsmor find out we've accepted her, we'll be a laughingstock."

I looked at Alena, head bowed, too afraid to meet anyone's eyes, and something inside me went cold.

I shook off my husband's hand, took Alena's, and declared to the entire palace, "I'm divorcing Phillip. Now. Only Alena and I will live in Princess's Manor from now on.

"And anyone who wants to defend Juliette can pack their things and leave."

*****

Fourteen years ago, I nearly died in childbirth. That maid, Leila Weber, who swore she would protect me with her life, took advantage of the chaos to swap my newborn daughter with her own child.

For fourteen years, I poured everything I had into that fake heiress, Juliette Riggs.

I raised her and taught her all the royal manners. She went from a kid to a graceful young lady, and everyone in Kinsmor fawned over her.

I thought I'd raised someone special. I was even scouting a husband for her, ready to watch her marry in splendor.

Three days ago, the guard I'd sent to Lariton to look into an old case came back, stammering as he handed me a confidential report.

It was all about Leila's past.

It said that she sent a bunch of money home fourteen years ago and even bought some farmland. Around then, her sister Sarah came back with a baby, saying she'd found her on the side of the road.

I smashed my favorite cup right then and there.

I sent all my guards to dig into it and went to that place myself. At the doorway of a run-down, leaking shack, I found the girl feeding pigs. It was Alena.

She was dressed in rough cloth, her hair tied messily with a straw rope. Holding a bowl of pig feed, she stood barefoot in the mud, her arms and legs covered with mosquito bites.

Her face, especially those eyes, looked so much like mine it hurt. When I was young, my father always said my eyes were clear and bright.

When Alena looked up and saw me, her eyes were just like that, pure, terrified, and completely unguarded.

I felt a lump in my throat, and even breathing was painful.

Sarah was sobbing and shouting that she didn't know. She said she thought Alena was brought home by Leila.

She said that Alena had a rough life, never had enough to eat or wear, had to work in the fields, and got bullied by other kids.

I couldn't stand it anymore.

I walked over to take Alena's hand.

She flinched back, dropping the pig food everywhere. She quickly crouched to pick it up, whispering, "Sorry, I-I'll clean it up right away."

I wrapped her in my arms.

She froze, not knowing what to do.

"Come home with me," I said, my voice trembling. "Mom is here to take you home."

I brought her back to the Princess's Manor. And I threw the truth right in Phillip's and my son's faces.

All the servants kept their heads down, barely daring to breathe.

I took Alena's hand. Yeah, she was named Alena Levine now, taking my maiden name.

Her palm was rough, scraping against mine.

Alena kept her head down, too scared to look at the glittering hall, and even more afraid to meet the eyes of the three people standing across from us.

Phillip Riggs was my husband. He was named a laureate, ranking above every other candidate in the realm. He caught my eye from the start. For fourteen years, we treated each other with respect, at least outwardly.

Joe Riggs, my eldest son, the one I'd spoiled for fourteen years. He had been smart since he was a kid. Everyone called him a genius, who was sure to make our family proud.

And then there was Juliette Riggs, the fake heiress I'd raised for fourteen years.

She was dressed in the trendiest dress, with the ruby hairpiece I'd given her last month catching the light. She stood behind Joe, eyes reddened, tears trembling on the verge of spilling, looking every bit like the victim.

She acted it well.

I was almost impressed by how shamelessly good her act was.

"Gwen," Phillip said, frowning, his tone that familiar, never-ending lecture. "We haven't even got all the facts. Acting like this isn't exactly proper for royalty."

I looked at him, the man I'd been married to for fourteen years. I used to think he at least understood me.

"Proper?" I laughed. "My daughter was out on the farm, feeding pigs, while your so-called daughter was living it up in the Princess's Manor. How dare you lecture me about being proper?"

Phillip looked uncomfortable. "That's not what I'm saying. Juliette grew up with us. Everyone in Kinsmor talks about how talented and well-behaved she is.

"Besides, she's well acquainted with several princes and heirs; a future marriage alliance would bring great benefits to the Riggs family and the royal family."

He paused and looked at Alena, a faint look of dislike flashing across his eyes.

He went on. "This girl has been living with commoners for years, likely barely literate. Bringing her back to parade her as a princess's daughter? Wouldn't that make a mockery of us?"

I felt Alena's hand suddenly jerk in mine.

She buried her head even lower, almost shrinking into her shoulders.