Chapter 2

The world was a harsh and unforgiving realm, and being a woman made it far harder still. One misstep and there was no coming back. I couldn't afford a single mistake.

Back when the Gregorys picked a girl from the slave trader to share Floyd's bed, they had intended to choose a virgin maiden.

I acted shamelessly, though. I knelt at Floyd's feet of my own accord and begged him to take me.

Floyd, seeing my good looks and pitiful tears, surprisingly agreed against all odds.

That move was risky, but I made the right choice.

Most of the girls who stood beside me that day were sold off to brothels, forced to entertain men.

Within a year, three were killed by clients, two died from sickness, one drowned herself in a well, and another lost her mind.

Sure, I ended up as a concubine, but compared to them, I had it better than anyone else.

"Yes, I won't mention it again." Seeing my anger, Lily immediately shut her mouth. She also knew that my current life of luxury depended entirely on Floyd's favor.

Meanwhile, Myron came back to his hometown all decked out, and honestly, it was something worth celebrating.

Although a civil official, he deliberately wore his official robes and rode a big horse to show off when returning home.

Once he got back, he followed Isabel's instructions from her letter and found their family's new shop.

The shop was dead quiet, and Isabel was half-asleep behind the counter. Hearing the hoofbeats, she looked up, delighted. "Myron. My son! You're finally home. God, I missed you."

Tears were streaming down Isabel's face, but she looked like she had put on some weight, and her clothes looked pretty decent. It seemed she had lived alright these years.

Myron breathed a sigh of relief and glanced past her. "Mom, where's Sprig? She's not here today? Where'd she go? Did you let her know I'd be coming back these days?"

Isabel didn't even blink. She said casually, "I sent her out of town to handle something. She'll be back in a few days."

That was a story she had prepared long ago. She never told Myron I had been sent away, all because she was worried he'd take me back if he knew the truth.

Now that Myron held an official post, even a noble lord's daughter was a match for him. There was no way she was letting me ruin his future.

Isabel also knew Myron had never cared much for me. If it hadn't been for the old ties between our families, Myron, a scholar, would never have taken a hunter's daughter like me as his wife.

She figured that when she and Myron went back to Journ City in a couple of days, she could fob him off with some excuse about me coming to join them later.

Once they got to Journ City, she'd come clean with him. Myron was so dutiful; he'd never really blame her for it.

Myron never imagined Isabel would ever keep something like this from him.

He nodded and pointed at the box the footman was holding. "I brought her some jewelry from Journ City. There's plenty of time ahead."

He thought we still had a whole lifetime together, that he'd have plenty of time to make up for all the times he had ignored me before.

Before, he thought I, being from the countryside, wasn't classy or delicate enough for his poetry and fancy talk.

But after three years apart, he found he actually missed me quite a bit. He missed the simple food I cooked and missed me leaning against his chest, calling his name in that tender, affectionate way.

He only came to realize then that life held not merely poetry and fancy words, but also daily hustle.

Those years out there on his own were rough at first; he had to handle everything himself. That was when he started to realize how good he'd had it with me around.

Isabel reached out to take the box, saying she would keep it for him.

For the first time, Myron refused. He said, "I want to give it to Sprig myself."

Sprig was my old name. Back then, I was called Sprig Collins. My grandmother always said a woman came into the world lowly, like a grass shoot that grew anywhere, a weed that anyone could trample underfoot.

My grandmother never liked me, and after I married into the Harman family, Isabel looked down on me even more because of this name.

But when I married Floyd, he said "Sprig" sounded too cheap, too humble. So he gave me a new name: Jewel Gregory.

Isabel opened her mouth but finally said nothing. In her mind, I was already packed off to Gregory Manor as a concubine.

This box of jewels would make a perfect gift for Myron's future bride in a few days.