Chapter 3

I tried to pull my hand back. Wyatt held on tight. He looked up at Delilah with an innocent expression. "Why do you ask about that?"

"I asked you a question!" she snapped.

"It's a burn," Wyatt said. He answered for me. "I did it to her when we were kids. Messing around with a candle. Why, Mother? Have you seen one just like it?"

Delilah's face went pale.

The King spoke up. "Come here," he said.

I didn't know who he was talking to. Wyatt nudged me. "His Majesty is calling you," he said.

I walked up to the King. He stared at my wrist for a long time.

"It looks the same," he said. His voice was hoarse. "It looks just the same."

The entire room went silent.

"What was your mother's name?" he asked.

I lowered my head. "I don't know, Your Majesty."

"You don't know?" the King said. He let out a short laugh. "Did you hatch from a rock?"

"I entered the palace at four," I said. "I've been in the eastern palace as long as I can remember. I never met my mother."

The King didn't respond. He reached out and pulled my wrist closer. His cloudy eyes fixed on the scar.

The candlelight flickered. His fingers were cold. They felt like a dead man's hand.

"Twenty-six years," he said. His voice dropped low. "Twenty-six years ago, a palace maid grabbed a scalding candle holder to protect her newborn daughter."

Delilah's chair scraped against the floor.

The King ignored her. He kept talking. "That maid's last name was Perez," he said. "She was the woman who shared my bed back then."

My mind was a complete blank.

"She gave birth to a daughter," the King said. "I never got to see the child. She died."

He looked at me. "Delilah told me it was a difficult birth. Both mother and child were lost."

Delilah rose to her feet. "Your Majesty, you've had too much to drink," she said. "Let me help you back to your chambers to rest."

"How dare you?" The King said softly.

Miles dropped his fork. It hit the floor. He stared at the scene with pure disbelief.

Only Wyatt remained slouched in his chair. He held his wineglass. He looked like he was watching an entertaining show.

The King looked at me. Then he looked at Delilah. "Delilah," he said. "You told me back then that Hannah died in childbirth.

"You said both mother and daughter were lost. I believed you. But this child is alive. And the scar is right here. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Delilah raised her head. All the color had drained from her face. Her lips moved, and her voice shook badly.

"Your Majesty, Hannah attempted to harm a royal prince," she said. "I was acting on orders to carry out the punishment."

"Harm which prince?" the King asked. He cut her off and drawled the question.

Delilah's words caught in her throat.

"Wyatt was four at the time," the King said. He looked at her. "Miles wasn't even born yet. Who did she harm?"

Delilah's face went completely pale.

I listened to these words as if they were about someone else's life. But the scar on my wrist was burning. The heat made my fingers tremble.

Twenty-six years.

My mother traded her life so I could live.

I didn't notice Wyatt approach. He kept wiping the wine stain off my sleeve with his handkerchief.

His movements were gentle. Like he was afraid of hurting me.

"It's okay," he said. His voice was low enough that only I could hear.

I looked up at him.

There was no laughter in his eyes. Just something I couldn't read.

Delilah suddenly started laughing. Tears streamed down her face. "Wyatt," she said. "You think exposing me will keep her safe?"

Wyatt ignored her. He kept wiping my sleeve.

"She's the daughter of a convicted servant!" Delilah's voice turned shrill. "Even if she lives, she's palace property. She'll never rise above that status."

The King spoke slowly. "Who said her last name is Perez?"

Delilah froze.

"Her last name is Evans," the King said. He looked at me. His eyes were clouded but sharp. "She is my daughter. Do you think you have the right to decide her worth?"

He reached into his coat and pulled out a piece of jade.

Under the candlelight, the jade glowed with a soft warmth. A single character was carved into its surface.

Sarah.

The date inscribed was twenty-six years ago. That exact month, that exact year.

Delilah stared at that piece of jade like she'd seen a ghost.

"Impossible," she murmured. "Impossible. That child was clearly..."

"Clearly what?" the King asked.

Delilah said nothing. She stayed on her knees, her shoulders shaking violently.

The King ignored her. He handed the jade pendant to me. "Take it," he said.

I reached for it. The moment my fingers touched the jade, I flinched. It wasn't really hot. It just hit me that hard.

Wyatt spoke up from beside me. "What are you standing there for?" he said. "Thank His Majesty."

I held the pendant in both hands and stared at the character carved into it. Sarah.