Chapter 1 · Not This Time, Your Majesty

I, the Queen Mother, personally helped my son ascend the throne.

Yet it was he who handed me a cup of deadly wine.

"I must avenge my adopted mother," he said.

His eyes were colder and deadlier than the poison itself.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the days before I ever set foot in the palace.

It'd already been three days since I came back to life, and I still couldn't get used to this miserable existence as an illegitimate daughter.

The coarse cloth scraped against my skin, and every bite of food felt like sandpaper going down my throat.

But the face reflected in that mirror, bare of any makeup, was still stunningly beautiful, just as I remembered from my previous life.

In my previous life, I had all the wealth and glory anyone could ever dream of, but the weight of that crown turned my hair gray before its time.

Twenty years trapped in the palace, always sleeping with one eye open, scheming even in my dreams.

I was tired, so, so tired.

This time around, even if I ended up marrying a nobody, it would still be better than ever stepping through the man-eating palace again.

*****

Priscilla, the principal wife of my father, summoned me to the living room, shaking her wine cup, not even bothering to lift her eyes. "Willette, you're going to the palace tomorrow. Make yourself presentable."

I lowered my gaze and gave a faint smile. "Yes."

My older sister, Belle, had been in the palace for three years, and the King's favor was still strong, but her womb refused to cooperate.

Now, the family was choosing another sister to take her place and bear the King a child.

And I, an illegitimate daughter with beauty that could rival spring blossoms, was the perfect pawn for their game.

In my previous life, once I was in the palace, I soon gave birth to a prince.

Belle took my child away and plotted to end my life.

But how could I possibly let that happen? My baby was still an infant. I couldn't bear to leave this world.

So I faked my own death and slipped away. From that moment on, I shed all innocence and began to plot my every move, one careful step at a time.

I fought my way up from a lowly maid to Lady Belle, and finally became the Queen.

Belle hated me to her core at first, but when she realized I couldn't be stopped, she switched sides and even helped me hold onto the King's favor.

The only thing she wanted was to keep raising my son.

I didn't want that, but my father and the King both insisted that I not make a fuss, as Belle couldn't have children.

I figured I could always have more kids later, so I let it go.

But I never managed to get pregnant again.

When I finally became the Queen, I went to Belle and asked her to give me back my son, who was already ten years old by then.

Belle pleaded with me, saying we could raise him together, and promised that even though he'd grown up by her side, I would always be his real mother.

I never managed to win him back, but in my heart, he was always my son.

The day the King passed away, I placed the crown on my son's head with my own hands.

But in the blink of an eye, he handed me a cup of deadly wine, his eyes cold and full of hate. "The only mother I've ever had is Lady Belle."

How laughable.

I schemed and fought for everything in the palace, but in the end, I was nothing but a tool for bearing someone else's child.

Right before I died, Belle was crying, saying, "Willette, don't hate me for being cruel. You weren't like this before you went to the palace. The palace changed you."

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly at that.

All my childhood innocence had long since rotted away in the cracks of those palace walls, along with every last piece of my youth.

But I'd had enough of all the palace intrigue and ruthless plotting.

This time, I'd rather be buried in the dirt than ever set foot in that palace that could chew people up.

That night, I downed a couple of glasses of wine.

I was allergic to alcohol, so before dawn, my face broke out in angry red rashes.

I stared at my reflection, feeling both happy and a little sad.

Back in my previous life, my face was my greatest weapon for decades. I never had to endure anything like this.

Chapter 1

I, the Queen Mother, personally helped my son ascend the throne.

Yet it was he who handed me a cup of deadly wine.

"I must avenge my adopted mother," he said.

His eyes were colder and deadlier than the poison itself.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the days before I ever set foot in the palace.

It'd already been three days since I came back to life, and I still couldn't get used to this miserable existence as an illegitimate daughter.

The coarse cloth scraped against my skin, and every bite of food felt like sandpaper going down my throat.

But the face reflected in that mirror, bare of any makeup, was still stunningly beautiful, just as I remembered from my previous life.

In my previous life, I had all the wealth and glory anyone could ever dream of, but the weight of that crown turned my hair gray before its time.

Twenty years trapped in the palace, always sleeping with one eye open, scheming even in my dreams.

I was tired, so, so tired.

This time around, even if I ended up marrying a nobody, it would still be better than ever stepping through the man-eating palace again.

*****

I lowered my gaze and gave a faint smile. "Yes."

My older sister, Belle, had been in the palace for three years, and the King's favor was still strong, but her womb refused to cooperate.

Now, the family was choosing another sister to take her place and bear the King a child.

And I, an illegitimate daughter with beauty that could rival spring blossoms, was the perfect pawn for their game.

In my previous life, once I was in the palace, I soon gave birth to a prince.

Belle took my child away and plotted to end my life.

But how could I possibly let that happen? My baby was still an infant. I couldn't bear to leave this world.

So I faked my own death and slipped away. From that moment on, I shed all innocence and began to plot my every move, one careful step at a time.

I fought my way up from a lowly maid to Lady Belle, and finally became the Queen.

Belle hated me to her core at first, but when she realized I couldn't be stopped, she switched sides and even helped me hold onto the King's favor.

The only thing she wanted was to keep raising my son.

I didn't want that, but my father and the King both insisted that I not make a fuss, as Belle couldn't have children.

I figured I could always have more kids later, so I let it go.

But I never managed to get pregnant again.

When I finally became the Queen, I went to Belle and asked her to give me back my son, who was already ten years old by then.

Belle pleaded with me, saying we could raise him together, and promised that even though he'd grown up by her side, I would always be his real mother.

I never managed to win him back, but in my heart, he was always my son.

The day the King passed away, I placed the crown on my son's head with my own hands.

But in the blink of an eye, he handed me a cup of deadly wine, his eyes cold and full of hate. "The only mother I've ever had is Lady Belle."

How laughable.

I schemed and fought for everything in the palace, but in the end, I was nothing but a tool for bearing someone else's child.

Right before I died, Belle was crying, saying, "Willette, don't hate me for being cruel. You weren't like this before you went to the palace. The palace changed you."

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly at that.

All my childhood innocence had long since rotted away in the cracks of those palace walls, along with every last piece of my youth.

But I'd had enough of all the palace intrigue and ruthless plotting.

This time, I'd rather be buried in the dirt than ever set foot in that palace that could chew people up.

That night, I downed a couple of glasses of wine.

I was allergic to alcohol, so before dawn, my face broke out in angry red rashes.

I stared at my reflection, feeling both happy and a little sad.

Back in my previous life, my face was my greatest weapon for decades. I never had to endure anything like this.