Chapter 5

I think he smashed the bowl.

My heart sank.

What did I do wrong?

*****

Inside the Imperial Study, Sheldon stared at the shattered porcelain on the floor, his chest rising and falling sharply.

Just moments ago, when he took that first sip of the fruit compote, the flavor hit him.

It tasted just like he remembered.

No, it was even better than he remembered.

The sweetness of the compote and the softness of the cherries were both just right.

Most importantly, there wasn't a hint of bitterness.

Back then, when Selene made fruit compote for him, she'd sometimes miss a pit.

Every time he found a cherry with a pit, he'd deliberately frown just to tease her.

She'd get all flustered, lean in close, and ask him to open his mouth so she could pick out the pit with her fingers.

The feel of her fingertips, the sweet, lingering fragrance... those long-buried memories surged up like a tidal wave.

'But how could this be?' Sheldon wondered.

The woman before him was nothing but a substitute.

She was just an illegitimate daughter, a nobody.

'How could she know what I like?' Sheldon wondered. 'How could she make fruit compote just like Selene used to? Was it just a coincidence?'

'Or... had she been plotting from the start, figuring out every single thing I like?' he thought. 'If it were the latter, then this woman was truly cunning.'

His eyes went cold all of a sudden.

Nothing pissed him off more than a scheming woman.

Just like Selene did all those years ago, back then, she'd sold him out for money and power without even blinking.

"Immanuel!" Sheldon called out sharply toward the door.

"At your service, Your Majesty," Immanuel replied, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

"Find out everything," Sheldon ordered, his voice icy.

There wasn't a trace of warmth in his tone.

"I want a full report on Samara, every detail from her childhood up to now. Leave nothing out. I need to know exactly who she is," he said.

Ever since that night with the fruit compote, Sheldon's attitude toward me had become even more unpredictable.

He didn't blatantly torment me like he used to.

But now, his gaze was more inquisitive, almost like he was sizing me up and trying to figure me out.

It felt as if he wanted to see straight through my skin, all the way down to my bones.

That feeling just made me even more uneasy.

He started calling me in all the time, but he never said a word, just kept me around, doing nothing.

Sometimes, out of nowhere, he'd throw the weirdest questions at me.

"What kind of flowers do you like?"

"Are you afraid of thunder?"

"Is there anything you absolutely hate to eat?"

All of these were things Selene used to like or do.

I was terrified, so I just pretended I had no clue and made up whatever answers came to mind.

Whenever my answers didn't line up with his memories, I'd catch a hint of disappointment in his eyes, but at the same time, it was like he was relieved.

But if I happened to say something that matched what he remembered, he'd lock his gaze on me, like he was about to swallow me whole.

I felt like a prisoner being grilled over an open flame, day after day. Every moment was torture.

That day, he summoned me to the Imperial Study once again.

I braced myself, thinking it would be another silent trial.

But to my surprise, he took something out of a locked rosewood box.

It was a butterfly hairpin, a unique hairpin, crafted from pearls and rare gems from distant lands.

The moment I laid eyes on it, I forgot to breathe.

This was the gift he gave me when I turned sixteen.

He told me the butterfly meant breaking free from the cocoon, and hoped my life would be as vibrant and free as a butterfly's.

I cherished it so much back then, wearing it every day without fail.

That was, until the day I turned my back on him.

I tossed it to the floor on purpose, sneering that it was cheap and gaudy, unfit for the Lady of the Frosthaven.

I still remembered how his eyes burned red as he stooped to pick up the hairpin.

I thought he'd destroyed it ages ago.

But to my surprise, he kept it all this time.

And from the way it shone, you could tell someone had been carefully wiping it down, keeping it in perfect condition.

My heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand. The ache was so intense I could hardly breathe.

Sheldon held up the hairpin and asked, his voice husky, "Do you recognize this?"

I forced myself to look away and lowered my head.

"No, Your Majesty, I don't recognize it," I replied.

"You don't recognize it?" Sheldon sneered.

He strode over, grabbed my chin, and forced me to look up at him.

"Take a good look at it," he said, his voice icy. "This hairpin was that bitch's favorite back then. She wore it everywhere, showing it off so everyone knew I gave it to her.

"But once she landed herself a better deal, she threw it away like garbage."