Chapter 3

In that moment, I realized with absolute clarity that my parents were two completely different kinds of people. When trouble came, my father would cry and run away. But my mother'd pick up a knife and face it head-on.

I saw my father get up from the ground. He walked over to Vivian, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something. But in the end, he lowered his head and forced out some words. "Charlotte, let's go."

Mother didn't pay any attention to the turmoil in his voice. She hugged me close and strode forward without hesitation. Like that, she crushed a street assassination with thunderous force.

Our group set off again, but the whole atmosphere had completely changed. The crowd was still whispering, but the looks they gave Mother weren't sympathy or disdain anymore, but deep fear and awe.

The guards were even more tense now, closing in around the three of us, eyes sharp and alert as they watched every shadow, afraid someone else might leap out at any moment.

No one dared treat us like ordinary prisoners anymore.

I clung to Mother's shoulder, watching my father stumble along behind us, looking utterly lost and broken. I could feel his whole world collapsing, piece by piece.

The title he was so proud of was gone. All those flirtations and affairs he boasted about were nothing but a joke.

And now, the last shred of his dignity as a man had been shattered by Mother's blade.

He'd always believed Mother was nothing more than a weak vine, clinging to him for support. It wasn't until today that he saw the truth that she was no vine.

She was a mighty tree, standing tall and proud, strong enough to support the heavens all on her own.

And he was a pitiful little blade of grass, groveling for pity under her towering presence.

Our group reached the city gates.

The prison wagon was already waiting for us.

It was a shabby wooden cart with a tiny, cramped cage on top.

The guard captain pointed at the wagon, looking a bit embarrassed as he said to Mother, "My lady, sorry for the inconvenience to you and Lord Langley."

By the rules, serious criminals sentenced to exile were supposed to be locked up in that cage. But after what Mother pulled, the captain was totally shaken. He wouldn't think about treating her like a criminal anymore.

Mother glanced at the filthy, cramped cage, just a hint of a frown crossing her face. "My child and I can ride in the wagon, but my husband..."

She shot a look at my father. "He's too frail. I doubt he could handle all this trouble."

My father's face went red, then white. Saying he was frail like that was basically humiliating him in front of everyone. But he didn't have the guts to protest.

The captain immediately caught on and hurried to say, "You're right, my lady. Lord Langley is of noble blood. He shouldn't be treated like a common criminal. We'll arrange a carriage for him."

He really did call for someone to bring over a reasonably clean carriage.

Only then did Mother nod in satisfaction, carrying me up into the prison cart.

My father hesitated for a moment, then quietly boarded the separate carriage.

The curtain dropped, shutting out the outside world.

I snuggled into Vivian's arms and whispered, "Mother, who sent that person after us?"

Mother gently patted my head, her voice barely above a whisper. "Who else could it be but your father's precious Vivian?"

I froze. "Vivian? Why would she want to kill Father?"

"She wasn't trying to kill your father." Her eyes went cold. "She was after you."