Sunlight still flooded the queen's chamber, but to Emma, the entire room had, in that instant, seemed to transform into somewhere foreign and suffocating. The silk veil still lay crumpled at her feet, her face now laid bare before everyone's eyes, with no way left to hide it again.
"This is my older sister," Serena repeated, her voice still carrying a trace of shock, though a sharp glint of calculation had already begun to flicker in her eyes, as though she were quickly working out how she might turn this sudden truth into an advantage for herself.
Emma stood in a daze, unable to speak. Everything is collapsing so fast I haven't even had time to think of a way to handle it. That raw, exposed vulnerability left her body rigid, her hands clenching the fabric of her dress until her knuckles went white.
Right then, Henry entered the room, his gaze freezing instantly at the sight of Emma's now uncovered face, a look of pure shock etched clearly across his own.
"Emma is your sister?" Henry asked, his voice full of disbelief, his eyes darting between Serena and Emma as though trying to piece together a truth he had never once suspected.
Henry hurried to Emma's side, his steps quick and decisive enough that several nearby servants had to step back out of his way. Something in that urgency, in the way he positioned himself almost protectively in front of her, left Emma both touched and more panicked than she had ever been.
Emma looked at Henry, flustered, not knowing where to even begin explaining a story she herself had never wanted to bring up with anyone, let alone in front of the man toward whom her heart was slowly becoming impossible to control.
Serena smiled with satisfaction, a thin smile but sharp as a razor's edge, as though she had finally found exactly the weapon to bring down the sister she had never once liked. "Your Highness," she said, her voice sweet with false sincerity ringing out clearly in the now silent room, "Emma is my half sister, on my father's side. Seven years ago she fled our home after getting pregnant out of wedlock."
That statement cut straight into Emma's pride like a blade. She dares stand here and smear my reputation in front of everyone! Fury rose and lodged in her throat, but Emma still forced herself to keep a composed expression, refusing to let any hurt show under her half sister's scrutinizing gaze.
Serena clenched her hands, a flash of genuine anger crossing her face at Emma's bewildering calm, but she quickly recovered her composure, stepping forward to take Emma's hand as though putting on a show of deep sisterly affection.
"Sister!" Serena exclaimed, her voice trembling with theatrical emotion. "It's been so many years, and now you're a healer! Could it be you've come back here with some improper scheme in mind?"
Emma, her expression composed, shook Serena's hand off her arm with a decisive gesture that betrayed no hesitation at all. That touch, brief as it was, still made her shudder, dredging up memories of every bruise, every humiliated tear of the nineteen year old girl she had once been. "A healer's only business is to treat the sick," she answered, her voice cold but properly respectful. "What could I possibly gain here?"
Henry's jaw tightened, a barely contained fury flashing in his eyes as he looked at Emma, not anger at her, but anger on her behalf, anger at the way Serena had deliberately fabricated a story to humiliate a woman who had saved his own mother's life. He turned sharply to face Serena, his voice hardening with all the authority of a prince. "That's enough, Serena," he said. "I don't need to know what relationship you have with Emma, but right now Emma is a distinguished guest of our royal family, and I would ask that you stop causing her any further trouble."
Serena stormed off, the hem of her silk gown sweeping hard across the marble floor, but before she vanished entirely beyond the door, she managed to shoot one last cold, sharp glance back at Emma, a look promising that this story was far from over.
Henry turned to look at Emma, his gaze softening all at once, every trace of anger gone, leaving only the sincere concern he had never quite managed to hide in front of her. "This is your own private matter," he said, his tone reassuring. "I won't pry into it. Rest easy and stay in the palace to continue treating my mother."
Emma bowed her head, forcing herself to keep a respectful bearing despite the turmoil still churning inside her. "Thank you, Your Highness," she answered. "If it please Your Majesty and Your Highness, I ask leave to withdraw."
Emma turned and walked away, her steps even but somewhat hastier than usual, as though simply getting out of that room quickly enough might let her shed some of the weight that had just settled onto her shoulders. I can't let anyone see me weak right now, not even for a moment.
Henry stood still, watching Emma's figure disappear down the long corridor, his expression sinking into deep thought. Too many questions were spinning through his mind, about that woman's past, about the boy with brown eyes so exactly like his own, about a truth some instinct told him he was about to touch.
❖ ❖ ❖
Night fell over the Olit estate, draping a still darkness over the meticulously trimmed gardens. In Serena's opulent chamber, the decorative paintings hanging on the walls glowed with vivid color beneath the candlelight, the large bed draped in bedding embroidered with gold thread, a shelf beside the window displaying a precious vase of flowers, and an elegant noble style tea table and chairs arranged carefully in the middle of the room.
Serena sat in her chair, turning a teacup idly in her hands, her eyes glinting with calculation that no one in this estate dared to question.
A man dressed in black knelt before Serena with deference, his voice hushed as though afraid of disturbing the stillness of the room. "My lady," he reported, "the prince is quietly sending men to search for the owner of a certain necklace."
Serena's brow furrowed, her fingers tightening slightly around the rim of the teacup. Henry is investigating? Then I need to move faster than him. "I see," she said, her voice cold, cutting through every hesitant thought. "You may withdraw."
The man bowed respectfully to Serena and slipped away in silence, his shadow dissolving into the darkness of the corridor as though he had never been there at all.
❖ ❖ ❖
The pale golden light of midday streamed through the tall window of Henry's study, where stacks of ledgers sat neatly arranged on the desk, beside a few pots of ink and an intricately carved wooden armchair, with a towering bookshelf and a decorative statue standing quietly in the corner behind.
Serena stood beside the desk, her hands trembling slightly as she raised the crystal, half moon pendant necklace up to examine it in the dim light, her heart pounding along with her quickened breath.
She narrowed her eyes, studying the pendant closely. There, a tiny circular pattern had been etched into the surface with extreme care, almost invisible unless viewed closely under slanted light.
Serena smiled wickedly, the corner of her mouth curving into a line full of calculation. "Heaven really is on my side," she muttered, her voice quiet enough only for herself to hear.
She stared fixedly at the necklace with its blue crystal, half moon shaped pendant, and in that instant, an old memory suddenly rushed back into her mind, so vivid that Serena felt as though she were standing in that cramped room from years ago rather than in the prince's magnificent study.
That cramped room in the Olit estate back then had held only a simple bed, a bedside table with a vase of flowers and some books, an old wardrobe worn at the corners. Serena, a seventeen year old girl consumed with jealousy at the time, had held the necklace with its blue crystal, half moon shaped pendant out in front of her, admiring it with delight, as though gazing at a trophy she had just seized.
Emma, tears streaming down her face at the time, had thrown herself forward recklessly, wrenching the necklace out of Serena's hand with all her strength, her eyes blazing with a desperate fire that only someone about to lose the thing they treasured most could carry.
"Give it back!" Emma had screamed, her voice choked with anguish. "It's my mother's keepsake!"
Serena had quickly dodged aside, shoving Emma down onto the cold floor without a trace of mercy.
Emma had looked at Serena with eyes full of fury, but before she could say another word, Serena had calmly flung the necklace onto the ground, her eyes full of contempt.
"A worthless little necklace," Serena had said, her tone indifferent, as though she had just tossed aside some child's toy not worth another thought.
Emma had quickly snatched the necklace up and clutched it to her chest, sobbing as though her entire world had just collapsed in that instant.
The memory dissolved, pulling Serena back to the present. She tightened her grip on the necklace in her palm, a scheming smile spreading across her face. Back then I thought this thing was worthless. Who would have guessed that today it would become the very key that unlocks everything I desire.
Suddenly, the study door burst open, the clatter of the hinges ringing out harshly through the quiet space.
Henry stepped in, his expression cold. He froze at the sight of Serena standing stunned before his desk, in her hand the blue crystal, half moon shaped necklace he had kept carefully guarded for seven years like a treasure.
"Serena!" Henry snapped, his voice full of anger. "What are you doing here?"
Serena startled, forcing herself to appear pitiable, her shoulders trembling slightly as though she had just been caught doing something entirely innocent. "I came looking for you, but you weren't here," she answered, her voice small.
Henry strode forward aggressively, snatching the necklace from Serena's hand in one decisive motion, without a trace of gentleness. "Get out," he shouted, the fury inside him seeming to have reached the very edge of his patience.
Serena's eyes filled with tears, putting on such a display of wounded self pity that anyone who didn't know her true nature would have felt sympathy for her. "I obey, Your Highness," she said, her voice choked.
But just as she turned to walk away, Serena stopped short, looking back at the necklace in Henry's hand with a carefully calculated hesitance. "Might I ask for that necklace back?" she asked, her voice soft, as though pleading for a favor.
Henry stared at Serena in astonishment, unable to understand why she would suddenly care about an object whose true significance he had never revealed to anyone. "You recognize this necklace?" he asked, his voice full of suspicion.
"It's mine," Serena answered, her eyes meeting Henry's without a trace of a tremor, a false composure honed through years of living by calculation.
Henry stared at Serena, blankly, feeling as though the ground beneath his feet had just given a slight shudder. "How can you prove it's yours?" he asked, his voice full of doubt, though a vague unease had already begun to rise inside him that he himself could not explain.
"The necklace carries the Olit family crest on the back of the pendant," Serena answered, her tone frighteningly calm. "You need only hold the pendant over a flame, and the mark will appear."
Henry hurried over, holding the necklace's pendant over the candle burning on the desk, his hand trembling faintly with a rising sense of foreboding in his chest.
A round mark appeared on the pendant, glowing with a golden light around its edges, exactly as Serena had said.
Henry looked at Serena with suspicion, his eyes betraying the confusion he couldn't hide before this seemingly undeniable proof. But something inside him still stubbornly resisted, like a small voice reminding him of the resolute gaze, the loving way she cared for her son, of the woman named Emma. "You don't remember what happened that night?" he asked, his tone carefully probing.
Serena looked at Henry with a carefully rehearsed confusion. "Seven years ago I suddenly fell gravely ill," she answered, "and afterward lost part of my memory, which is why I don't remember what happened that night."
Henry's brow furrowed, his expression pensive, as though trying to piece together countless fragments of an incomplete picture. "You may go," he said, his tone somewhat softened despite the turmoil still churning inside him. "I'll keep this necklace safe for you in the meantime."
Serena bowed and stepped outside, but the moment the door closed behind her, the corner of her mouth curled into a triumphant smile that no one was there to see.
Henry stood alone in the middle of his study, looking at the necklace in his hand with heavy thoughtfulness. If this necklace really does belong to Serena, then that night... No, something isn't right. This feeling, this memory, none of it matches the image I have of Serena. But the family crest right there before his eyes made it impossible for him to deny it entirely, and it was exactly that conflict that left his mind more tangled than ever.
❖ ❖ ❖
Night fell once more over the Olit estate, but this time Serena's chamber no longer held its usual air of opulent stillness, instead thick with a suffocating tension.
Serena sat in her chair, using her hand to force Elis's mouth open, pushing a small black pill into it despite Elis's desperate struggling, the girl's eyes full of panic and fury.
Elis was forced to swallow the pill, her throat tightening with both fear and an anguish she had no way to voice. Serena shoved her away, calmly picking up a hand towel as though she had just finished some trivial chore.
"You will go into the palace as my spy and report on Emma's every movement to me," Serena ordered, her voice full of cold menace. "If you dare betray me or act against my will, I will not give you the antidote."
Elis looked at Serena with utter fury in her eyes, but she did not dare speak a single word of protest, only swallowing her anguish back down, telling herself she had to find a way to survive this, even if it meant wearing the mask of a traitor against the mistress she loved most in the world.
CHAPTER 2: THE ARRANGED BETROTHAL
In the quiet chamber Emma occupied within the palace, Amer lay deep asleep on the bed, his small face peaceful with no trace left of the violent illness that had nearly claimed his life. The midday sun streamed through the large window, scattering warm streaks of light across the silk blanket, and birdsong rang clear from the royal garden outside, all of it forming a rare peaceful scene amid the turbulent days Emma had endured since first setting foot in this court. Emma sat in her chair, holding a stone bowl and a stone pestle, grinding herb after herb, the soft, steady sound of crushing filling the quiet space, her hands moving with a rhythm that had become instinct after so many years practicing medicine. Every so often she glanced up at Amer for a moment, as though even a single instant looking away from her son were enough to unsettle her.
Elis stepped in timidly, her steps hesitant as though carrying some invisible burden no one else could see. I'm about to look straight into the eyes of the person I love most and pretend nothing has happened. Her throat tightened, but the instant Elis's eyes landed on Emma's familiar figure, all the fear inside her was suddenly overwhelmed by a genuine, irrepressible joy.
At the sight of Elis, Emma jumped up with delight, pulling her into a tight embrace, her arms clutching her as though afraid this were only a dream that might dissolve at any moment. "I'm so glad to see you again, Elis," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Have you been well?"
Elis's eyes welled with tears as she looked at Emma, and in that moment, she nearly forgot the poison quietly coursing through her own veins, forgot Serena's cold threats, left with nothing but the sincere warmth of her mistress's embrace, the mistress she had sworn her loyalty to since childhood. "I'm so glad to see you again too, mistress," she answered, her voice choked with emotion she couldn't hide.
Emma pulled Elis down to sit beside her, her eyes shining with genuine concern. "How is my father?" she asked, her voice heavy with longing, for it had been seven years since she had last heard any news of the father she both loved and resented.
"The master is well," Elis answered, trying to keep her voice steady even as she was torn apart inside between the truth and the lie she was forced to carry.
Elis gripped Emma's hand tightly, a gesture of sincerity welling up from the very bottom of her heart, rising above every scheme Serena had forced her to carry out. "From now on I vow to follow you, mistress," she said, her voice trembling with genuine emotion. "To protect you."
Emma reached out and stroked Elis's hair, a gentle gesture like an older sister caring for her own younger sister. "Elis has really grown up," she said, her voice full of unconcealed joy.
Emma smiled happily at Elis, with no idea at all that behind the girl's sincere smile lay a heavy secret quietly gnawing at her conscience, a conflict between genuine loyalty and a fear born of coercion that Elis did not yet know how to confess to anyone. Elis bowed her head, hiding her eyes behind trembling lashes, afraid that if she looked straight at Emma for even one more moment, she would be unable to hold back and would burst into tears, confessing everything. If my mistress knew how Serena forced me into this, would she still trust me the way she does now? That thought sent a dull ache through Elis's heart, but she still forced a smile, telling herself that as long as she was clever enough, she could both play the role of spy on the surface and quietly protect Emma and Amer from every danger Serena was scheming.
❖ ❖ ❖
The queen's chamber was filled with the warm sunlight of a rare, peaceful midday, pale golden rays streaming through the large glass windows, bathing the opulent space in a warmth strangely at odds with the tense atmosphere that had blanketed this room these past days. The queen sat on her bed, leaning back against a large pillow embroidered with intricate patterns, her complexion far brighter now than in the first days after Emma's arrival, her eyes no longer clouded with the endless weariness of before but glinting instead with the vitality of someone who had just emerged from a long, severe illness. She took Emma's hand, her eyes full of genuine gratitude, her aged hand gripping Emma's as a way of expressing thanks that words alone could not capture.
"Thanks to the healer's medicine, my condition has improved so much," the queen said, her voice light with relief, as though she had finally set down a burden that had clung to her for years.
Emma smiled at the queen, a simple professional joy rising in her heart, one she always cherished, though within this court full of scheming, that joy still had to be carefully hidden beneath her usual composure.
Serena entered with two servants, carrying an intricately carved wooden box, her manner as warm as though nothing had ever happened between her and Emma. "Your Majesty," she said, her voice sweet. "I've brought a precious elixir for you to build your strength."
Serena hurried to the bedside, smiling warmly at the queen and Emma, not letting even a flicker of the scheming simmering behind those bright eyes show through.
"You are so thoughtful," the queen answered, her voice full of affection, entirely unaware of the schemes being laid out right before her eyes.
Serena looked at Emma, smiling so brightly that anyone unaware of the truth would have believed it entirely sincere. "Sister Emma is here too?" she asked, her tone feigning surprise.
Emma quickly stood, her expression hardening as she looked at Serena, a wariness rising inside her like an uncontrollable instinct. What is she scheming now?
Serena smiled at the queen, entirely ignoring Emma's wary gaze. "Now that Your Majesty is recovering," she said, her tone gentle but carrying an obvious calculation, "I would like to bring up some happy news for our royal family... Perhaps it's time to carry out the betrothal already arranged between myself and Prince Henry."
That statement hit Emma like a splash of cold water, though she didn't understand why her heart would ache this much over something that seemingly had nothing to do with her at all. What right do I have to feel hurt by this news? Emma asked herself, clenching her hands to hide the chaotic emotions churning inside her, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop the image of Henry standing beside Serena at a wedding ceremony from rising in her mind, and that thought made her chest tighten as though someone had it in a vice grip.
Right at that moment, Henry walked in, looking at Serena coldly, his eyes betraying an unconcealed displeasure at that abrupt proposal. "The queen has only just recovered," he said, his tone decisive without a trace of hesitation. "The matter of marriage can wait."
Serena laughed stiffly, though a hard to describe fury was boiling inside her. "I obey, Your Highness," she answered, her tone forcing itself to sound obedient.
Henry looked over at Emma with concern, his eyes seeming to try to convey a silent apology for having let her witness this awkward scene.
Emma looked at Serena calmly, forcing her expression to stay unruffled, but inside her, a new resolve was forming, clearer than ever before. I can't stay here any longer. This place isn't meant for me and Amer.
❖ ❖ ❖
Night had grown late, and Emma's chamber within the palace lay bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the warm golden light trembling with every draft slipping through the half closed window, casting flickering shadows across the silk walls embroidered with elaborate patterns. Emma sat at the edge of the bed, smoothing Amer's hair as he slept soundly, her son's small face so peaceful it made her heart clench with a nameless worry. She thought back on the difficult days in that small village, where mother and son had had only each other to lean on, and now, amid this opulent yet danger ridden court, the fear of losing that peace felt greater than ever. I promised to protect him at any cost. Even if I have to leave this place, even if I have to give up everything, I will not let him face danger again.
Emma rose from the bed and went to sit at the small table in the middle of the room. Elis quietly came over to pour tea into a cup for her, steam rising into the cold night air.
"There's no more time to hesitate..." Emma said, her voice heavy with troubled thought. "I have to leave here quickly, and take Amer out of the palace."
Elis looked at Emma, a question rising inside her that she couldn't help but ask. "Don't you want to reclaim what belongs to you?" she asked, her voice soft.
Emma turned to look at Amer, sleeping soundly on the bed, the corner of her lips curving into a soft, loving smile. "Right now I only want to protect Amer," she answered, her voice resolute, unwavering. "Nothing else matters."
Elis looked at Emma with a heavy heart, privately thinking of the poison still coursing through her own veins, of Serena's threats, of whether, if Emma truly left the palace, she would have any chance left to protect the mistress she loved. But Elis did not dare voice any of it, only nodding silently, hiding her own burden behind a forced, calm expression. She poured Emma another cup of tea, her hands trembling faintly at the thought of having to report this entire conversation back to Serena, an act of betrayal she hated herself for being forced to commit. If she really does leave, maybe that would be for the best. At least Serena would no longer have any chance to harm her or Amer. But that thought also meant Elis would be left alone in the enemy's den, with no one left to lean on, no one to protect her from Serena's wrath should the scheme ever come to light.
❖ ❖ ❖
Out in the dark corridor, in front of Emma's door, Henry stood tucked into the shadows, his expression heavy with thought. Pale moonlight filtered through the window at the end of the corridor, casting a faint streak of light across the cold tile floor, while the distant footsteps of patrolling guards echoed and faded back into silence. He had meant to knock and check on Emma after that turbulent afternoon in the queen's chamber, his hand already raised nearly to the wooden door, but the conversation drifting out from inside had stopped him in his tracks, his heart clenching tighter with every word he heard Emma say. She means to leave? No, that can't happen. Henry stood frozen, his raised hand slowly lowering, clenching into a fist at his side, struggling to contain a panic rising in his chest that he had never experienced before, not from battle or courtly scheming, but simply from the prospect of a woman he secretly loved vanishing from his life once more.
"You're going to leave this place?" Henry whispered into the darkness, his voice so full of pain that he himself hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud.
Henry stared into the empty distance ahead of him, his expression heavy as though bearing a loss he had not yet had time to prepare himself to face. Standing there, in the quiet corridor of the late night, Henry suddenly realized that his heart had given this woman far more than he had ever dared to admit, and the thought of her leaving left his entire world reeling, unmoored. He leaned back against the cold stone wall behind him, raising his eyes to the crescent moon hanging in the night sky, wondering whether that very moon, just as on the fateful night seven years ago, was once again bearing witness to his heart breaking over a woman who shared that same silvery moonlight in her blood. I cannot let her leave. Whatever it costs, I must find the truth, and keep her by my side.