Chapter 2

Harry glanced away, refusing to meet my eyes.

"I'm dying to know how the emerald hairpin I gave Harry as a token of our love somehow ended up with those bandits," I said.

My hands and feet went cold, and a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my chest.

That emerald hairpin was something my parents spent a fortune on when I was little, hoping that one day I'd give it to the man I'd spend my life with.

Three years ago, I handed it to Harry with a smile, and he enveloped my hand in his.

He solemnly promised we'd be together forever.

But now, a few years later, everything was different.

It was quite ironic.

Harry's mouth twitched, shooting me a furious glare.

"Rosemary, what are you getting at? The evidence is clear, and now you want to implicate an innocent person like me?" he snapped.

Then he turned to Paul. "Mr. Mayor, I hope you can see the truth.

"As a royal merchant, my reputation means everything to me. How could I ever be involved in such shameful, underhanded deeds?"

I gave a wry smile and shot Harry a cold, indifferent look.

"I thought you were so busy working that you'd forgotten where that royal merchant title really came from," I said.

Four years ago, the floods in Cormir broke the dams, leaving the fields barren and nothing to harvest.

Wave after wave of starving refugees poured in.

The rice merchants from Cormir tried to buy grain in Daeryn, but they were turned away on purpose. The local merchants didn't want to sell out their stock and risk their own business.

When the matter was brought to the authorities, the Cormir merchants were afraid the government in Daeryn would side with the locals.

So I volunteered to write a petition to help the refugees, and in it, I held up the Glisson family as a shining example.

That was how Harry was lucky enough to become a royal merchant.

Harry paused for a moment, then raised his voice.

"If I didn't have the ability, do you really think some casual words you scribbled down could have gotten me such an honor?"

I stared hard at Harry's entitled expression, forcing myself to stay calm.

It turned out that he had always believed this.

Seeing Harry was on the back foot, Paul immediately announced the case would be reconvened in three days.

He ordered us not to leave the area, and we'd be kept under close watch by the soldiers.

I brushed the dust off my dress, stood up and walked out without even looking at Harry.

The front gate swung open, and Harry's mother, Gale Glisson, was waiting outside.

As soon as we stepped out, she hurried over to us.

Back in those days, whenever I saw her, I'd always pay my respects and call her "Mrs. Glisson."

Though she never truly deserved that kind of courtesy.

But since she was Harry's mother, I was willing to go along with it.

With nothing tying me to Harry anymore, she was another old woman in my eyes.

She still deserved respect, but I didn't need to go out of my way for her anymore.

I stepped aside, dodging Gale as she lunged at me.

But after a brief look of surprise, she stubbornly grabbed my arm, her fingers squeezing tight to block my way.

Gale's sharp nails dug right through my clothes into my skin, her face clouded with anger.

She snapped, "You shameless hussy. How dare you drag our family's business to the authorities?

"Since forever, wives are supposed to follow their husbands. I've never seen a husband needing his wife's permission to take another woman.

"Even if you're reduced to a mere concubine, you should be grateful and smile about it.

"Harry only asked for your opinion because he spoiled you. Who would've thought you'd actually think you're all that!"

Harry was steadying Gillian, who looked like she might collapse at any moment, and kept shooting glances our way.

Harry looked torn. "Mom, that's enough."

I brushed off Gale, who was ranting and practically foaming at the mouth, without a second thought.

I remembered how Harry had used his mother's so-called illness as a reason to stall our wedding last time.

Looking back now, he was playing me for a fool.

This was already the fourth time we tried to hold a wedding.

Every single time before, Harry used excuses to postpone the wedding.

I always understood and never complained.

I endured the neighbors' prying eyes and mocking whispers all quietly.

I didn't care.

I thought this time we'd finally tie the knot.

But I never thought I'd end up spending the whole day at the courtroom.

Thinking about everything that had happened, I reached into the intricate sleeve of my wedding dress and pulled out the marriage contract.

I handed it over to Harry.

"I'm willing to let you marry Gillian," I said.

Harry's eyes lit up with hope, but it faded almost instantly.

"But as for us, let's end it here," I said.