Chapter 4
In my previous life, I dulled every edge of myself for the sake of Cedric’s peace.
I handed over every accomplishment, every recognition, to Seraphina. In return, I received only his regret… and his doubt.
But now, with a second chance, I would no longer live for him.
I would live for me-for my own name, my own future.
What happened to Cedric and Seraphina from this point on? That was their concern. Not mine.
Just as I was preparing to enter the palace, the imperial procession arrived ahead of schedule.
The King and Queen had heard enough of the commotion to step in themselves.
And right there, in the gardens, His Majesty posed a challenge to both of us.
“Compose a verse praising Her Majesty’s grace and wisdom. Do it here. Now.”
Seraphina visibly exhaled in relief.
Without a moment’s pause, she took up her quill and began to write, her strokes confident and theatrical, as if
long-practiced.
From across the garden, Cedric watched her with unshakable pride.
After several quiet minutes, Seraphina finished and presented her work.
Applause erupted around her.
“A masterpiece!”
“A poem for the ages!”
Then it was my turn.
But all they saw was a blank page.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
Cedric gave a derisive laugh.
“I told you, didn’t I? No one knows Elena better than I do.”
“She can manage a household, sure. But poetry? Debate? Seraphina eclipses her in every way.”
He even waved me off with a smirk.
“Come on. Don’t embarrass yourself further.”
“This settles it. You’ll defer to Seraphina as mistress of the estate.”
Seraphina chimed in sweetly.
“That’s right, Elena. It’s nothing to be ashamed of if you couldn’t produce a poem.”
“And as for that little misunderstanding with my manuscript? Let’s put it behind us.”
“We’ll be family soon enough. No need to make poor Lord Cedric uncomfortable with petty quarrels.”
The crowd began murmuring again-more emboldened now, crueler.
“Just apologize, Lady Elena. Save yourself some dignity.”
“Truth be told, Seraphina carries herself more like a trueborn lady.”
“If I were Lord Hawthorne, I’d grant her a place in the Hawthorne lineage.”
Cedric’s eyes lit up.
He smacked his forehead as if struck by genius.
“You’re right.”
“Elena, go to your father. Tell him to have Seraphina granted the Hawthorne name, and let her stand among your father’s
acknowledged kin.”
Seraphina gave a modest curtsy, voice saccharine as ever.
“My lord… I seek neither rank nor privilege-only the chance to serve the Crown and House with what I can give.”
“But… if Elena is willing to let this go quietly, I’ll agree. For the sake of peace.”
I stared at her, stunned by how shamelessly she twisted virtue into performance.
Then I laughed-a cold, humorless laugh.
“She who turned her back on my mother… now dares claim her name?”
Just then, Lydia returned with a physician in tow.
“You recognize this man, don’t you, sister?”
“According to him, my mother wasn’t beyond saving. She collapsed in a fit of blood after your visit.”
“And after that, you paid him off. Sent him south. Tried to bury the truth.”
Seraphina went pale-so white she looked like a ghost.
But still, she pressed on.
“Elena, you lost a poetry contest. That’s no reason to invent such vicious lies.”
“If you care that much, you can have the position. I want no part in Lord Cedric’s plans-or yours.”
She turned to flee, but Cedric held her arm fast.
“Seraphina, she’s lying. You don’t need to leave.”
Then he bowed low before the King and Queen, head bent in submission.
“Your Majesties, please… believe her. She is pure-hearted and innocent. I swear it on my life!”
He must have thought his loyalty would move them.
Instead, the King crushed Seraphina’s poem into a ball and hurled it at Cedric’s face.
“Pure-hearted?”
“Innocent?”
“Read what she wrote and say that again.”
His Majesty’s voice thundered through the garden.
“A woman so full of lies-if you told me she’d set the palace ablaze, rd believe you before I questioned it.”
