Chapter 2
Grant thought he was giving me a path forward.
A path that seemed respectable on the surface, but in truth, it was just a way to nail me to the pillar of shame.
He believed I had no choice but to accept it.
My smile grew frosty at the corners.
Grant, you don't know a thing.
From the moment you walked into my home with that imperial decree to marry Wanda, from then on, any chance between us was gone for good.
You have no idea what's really coming for you.
Tomorrow, you're in for an even bigger "surprise."
*****
The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, the Silva estate was jolted awake by frantic pounding at the gate.
Envoys from the palace had arrived.
The messenger's shrill voice echoed through the front courtyard, carrying the imperial command. "By His Majesty's decree, General Grant, and everyone in the estate, come receive the decree!"
Grant and Wanda hurried out of their wedding suite, their attire noticeably rumpled.
Wanda's cheeks were tinged with the shy blush of a new bride, but there was a hint of triumph she couldn't quite hide.
Last night, she had finally become the general's wife in every sense of the word.
Grant's face was dark and unsettled. After I stood up to him last night, he'd been in a sour mood, and now, being jolted awake before dawn, he was even more on edge.
Still, he couldn't afford to slack off. He hurriedly fixed his attire and led everyone in the estate to kneel.
The entire courtyard was filled with people, all kneeling and bowing their heads.
I stood in the veranda, watching as everyone knelt before the imperial decree—but I stayed on my feet, refusing to bow.
Wallace Tyler, the head attendant, was an old hand in the palace and a trusted confidant of the Queen.
When he saw me, he instantly bowed, his face lighting up with a respectful smile.
"Baroness Winnie, why are you standing out here? Be careful, the morning air is chilly," he said with concern.
The word "Baroness Winnie" rang out like a thunderclap among the kneeling crowd.
Everyone jerked their heads up, their eyes fixed on me in astonishment.
Grant was especially floored.
His whole body froze—he didn't even feel the ache in his knees anymore.
He lifted his head, trembling, his eyes filled with utter disbelief and horror.
'Winnie? How could she possibly be a Baroness?' Grant was utterly dumbfounded.
Wanda's face went ghostly pale in an instant.
The smugness and shyness on her face froze, replaced by pure, unbridled panic.
Wallace paid no mind to the shock rippling through the crowd. He unfurled the decree, cleared his throat, and announced in a loud, clear voice:
"By the grace of His Majesty, Winifred Sarratt, eldest daughter of the Sarratt family, is gentle, virtuous, and skilled in proper manners. Her mother, Mrs. Howe, made a huge contribution to the Kingdom by offering the schematics for the repeating crossbow, keeping the Northern Marches safe from harm.
"In honor of her deeds, Mrs. Howe is posthumously granted the title of Baroness. Winifred is now officially Baroness Winnie and is to be granted a mansion, a thousand gold coins, and a hundred bolts of fine silk.
"And, in recognition of the achievements of both mother and daughter, Baroness Winnie is granted the right to break off her marriage with General Grant and choose her own husband—no one is allowed to interfere. Thus is the imperial will!"
The words crashed down on Grant's heart like a thunderbolt.
He trembled so hard he almost collapsed, barely managing to stay upright on his knees.
'How could this be... How could things turn out like this?' Grant's mind was reeling, unable to accept the reality.
'The schematics for the repeating crossbow?' Grant thought, his mind spinning.
'Didn't I present that to the court myself?'
That was a secret passed down through generations in the Silva family—the secret behind his crushing victory, the very thing that made him a legend on the battlefield!
'How could they say it was Mrs. Howe's achievement—Winifred's mother, who's been dead for years?' Grant thought, reeling in disbelief.
He snapped his head up, his eyes fixated on me, searching for answers in disbelief.
I met his gaze without flinching, my face calm—almost with a touch of pity for him.
Grant, did you really think the Silva family, a clan of soldiers, could just invent such ingenious weapon schematics all on your own?
Did you truly believe that box of so-called "ordinary books" I brought into the Silva estate back then was just ordinary books, nothing more?
Those were my mother's greatest legacy—she was the daughter of the Howe family, the foremost successor of the Mechanical Arts in the Kingdom of Zephland, and she poured her entire life into them.
Before she passed away, she entrusted them to me, telling me they were the very foundation of my survival as a woman—never to be revealed unless absolutely necessary.
When I married you, I truly loved and respected you—I thought you'd be the one I could count on for life.
Before you headed off to the Northern Marches, I saw how anxious you were about the war. So I brought out those schematics and asked you to give them to the King, hoping they'd help our soldiers in Zephland.
At the time, I simply told you they were heirlooms from the Silva family and asked you to hand them over for me.
I gave you that incredible achievement—put it right in your hands myself.
Everything I did was for you, to help you bring the war to an end sooner, so you could come home safe to me.
But I never imagined that everything I poured into you—all my devotion and sacrifice—would only bring me your heartless betrayal.
You took credit for the military glory that was my mother's life's work, and then immediately turned around and went after my half-sister.
Grant, what you owe me is far more than just the position of a wife.