Chapter 2

Turned out, in Andy's mind, my biggest strength was always knowing my place.

I quietly stepped back, never bringing up the pregnancy again.

I watched as he sent over the betrothal gifts, knowing my place.

I watched as the estate was draped in festive decorations, day by day.

I accepted being tucked away in this secluded courtyard, like a stain that had to stay out of sight.

The sounds of celebration grew louder, and I could faintly hear the guests' congratulations floating in from afar.

"Congratulations, Mr. Saunders! Congratulations!"

"Mr. Saunders and Ms. Hardy are truly a match made in heaven!"

Each word stabbed at my heart like a needle.

The baby inside me seemed to sense my anxiety, stirring softly.

I took a deep breath and gave one last glance at the noisy sea of celebration.

Andy Saunders.

You go your way, and I'll go mine.

From now on, we're even.

I slipped back into my room, moving quietly but with determination.

On the table was a small bundle I'd packed ahead of time.

Inside were a few plain clothes for changing, some bits of silver, and an old silver hairpin my mother left me.

That was everything I owned.

I left a letter, tucked under a wine cup.

There was only one line. "May we both go our separate ways and find peace."

No signature.

He'd know it was me.

That was enough.

I pushed open the hidden, dust-covered gate at the back of the courtyard.

Outside, a silent alley awaited me.

A loyal servant had already readied a carriage for me, paid for with years of saved allowance and the jewelry I'd quietly sold off.

I told him, "Take me to Southbank."

The coachman nodded, saying nothing.

The carriage slowly pulled away, leaving behind the cage that had trapped me for ten years.

I didn't look back.

The bustling city, the King's Tutor's Estate's festivities and honor—none of it mattered to me anymore.

The wheels rumbled softly over the stone road, the sound echoing in the quiet night.

I lifted the curtain and cast one final glance toward the Capital.

The night was deep, and thousands of lights glowed across the city.

Not a single one was shining for me.

I let the curtain fall, shutting the past firmly behind me.

Goodbye, Andy.

And farewell to that shadowed, insignificant youth I had to keep hidden from the world.

The carriage made its way south, bumping and rattling all the way.

I endured the discomfort of early pregnancy, keeping quiet.

The coachman'd been with us for years. My mother did him a favor once, so he knew how to keep his mouth shut.

He took the back roads, just as I'd instructed.

We pressed on day and night, never daring to stay in any town for long.

Andy's power stretched across the land, so I had to escape his grasp as quickly as possible.

Half a month later, we finally arrived in Southbank.

As soon as I stepped down from the carriage, the warm, humid air washed over me.

It was a world apart from the Capital's dry chill.

This was the famed land of wheat, a place overflowing with abundance.

Here, with the sky high and the King far away, Andy's power couldn't reach me.

I used up most of my savings to rent a tiny courtyard tucked away in a secluded alley in Southbank.

In the yard stood an ancient osmanthus tree.

That first night after settling in, I dreamed.

In my dream, Andy found me.

He stood before me, his eyes cold as frost. "Sapphire, you've got some nerve."

I was so scared I lowered my head, shaking all over.

"My lord, I was wrong..." I stammered, my voice trembling.

He didn't look at me. His eyes were locked on my still-flat belly.

"Get rid of it," he said, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.

I clutched my stomach in terror, shaking my head frantically.

"No! Please! Don't!" I begged, my voice trembling.

But he kept coming closer, his hand gripping my wrist like an iron clamp.

I jolted awake, my forehead slick with cold sweat.

Outside, moonlight flowed like water.

I touched my belly, my heart racing.

It was a long while before my heartbeat finally slowed and I calmed down.

I knew it was only a dream.

But the fear was so real, it was terrifying.

I couldn't just sit here and wait for my doom.

I had to become strong—strong enough to protect my child.

I started figuring out how to survive on my own.

For ten years in the Capital, I was more than just tending to Andy's writing desk.

He never bothered to keep his official affairs behind closed doors when I was around.

I watched him break down trade taxes, juggle shipping routes, and handle those cunning merchant tycoons.

Being by Andy's side for so many years, I absorbed more than I ever realized.

I decided to start with silk, since Southbank was renowned for it.

I took what little silver I had left and made my way to the largest silk store in town.

I told the owner I had a new dyeing technique that could produce colors unlike anything on the market.

Of course, the shopkeeper didn't believe me.

I didn't argue. I just asked for some ordinary white silk and a few basic dyes.

I shut myself up in the courtyard for three whole days.

I remembered Andy once discussing with a trader from the East about a unique method for fixing colors.

And I recalled reading in an old book about a plant that could neutralize dyes and make the colors change in unexpected ways.

I kept experimenting, again and again, until my hands were stained in every imaginable shade—colors seeped deep into my skin, stubbornly clinging beneath my nails no matter how hard I scrubbed.

At last, as dusk fell on the third day, I finally succeeded.

The result was a shade like the sky after a rainstorm—pure, fresh, and carrying a gentle trace of mist.

I called it "Heaven's Teal."