Chapter 1

Chapter 1

As the Seventh Princess of the Daqing Dynasty, I was born of imperial blood-a precious daughter of the royal house.

But that exalted status had depended on one thing: my mother still being alive.

Unfortunately, she was not.

In her day, my mother had possessed beauty without equal and enjoyed the emperor’s exclusive favor. She had even been capable of challenging the Empress herself.

The first two claims were true. The last existed only in Mother’s imagination.

No matter how lovely she was, she remained the daughter of a mere provincial official. The Empress came from the Fu clan, a family that had produced three grand chancellors in a single generation, and she had given birth to the emperor’s eldest legitimate son. How could Mother possibly have defeated her?

In the imperial harem, beauty was the cheapest thing of all.

Wearing the benevolent, magnanimous mask expected of the mother of the realm, the Empress watched Mother strut about for several years.

Then the Ninth Prince died just after his second birthday. A complete chain of evidence identified my mother as his murderer.

By then, Mother had been in the palace for six years. Her beauty no longer had its first breathtaking brilliance, and the sovereign’s favor had already begun to fade.

Meanwhile, the Empress’s maternal uncle, the General Who Pacifies the South, had just repelled an invasion from Southern Yue and returned victorious. The Empress’s eldest legitimate son had also been named Crown Prince.

And so, crude and transparent though the Empress’s frame-up was, Mother was still granted a length of white silk with which to hang herself.

That pathetically simple trap was the Empress’s final humiliation of her.

No. Not quite the final one.

I came afterward.

Mother died, leaving five-year-old me with no one to raise me.

Her Majesty the Empress, model mother of the realm, graciously set aside the past. She brought the daughter of the favored consort who had vexed her most into Fengyi Palace and raised me alongside my legitimate elder sister, who was one year older than I.

She said children were innocent. She said every prince and princess in the palace was her child and therefore her responsibility.

From then on, my elder sister and I were inseparable.

I was a princess raised at the Empress’s knee. Every dress I owned was as magnificent and costly as my sister’s.

In return, every day I had to display the Empress’s virtue to the outside world. Inside the palace, I accompanied my sister, flattered her, waited on her, and took the blame for her misdeeds.

The Empress watched it all-my abasement, my misery-and savored the immense satisfaction it gave her.

That was how I was raised, a little caged sparrow, until I turned thirteen.

That year, the Empress chose a prestigious marriage for me: the youngest legitimate son of the Han family, the household of the Marquis of Wu’an and a founding hero of the dynasty. My imperial father praised her.

“My dear Empress, how thoughtful of you. The Marquis of Wu’an’s house is descended from a founding hero. The match would be worthy even of Yong’an.”

Yong’an was my legitimate elder sister, Princess Yong’an, the Empress’s own daughter.

I obeyed my father’s decree and kowtowed to thank the Empress for selecting such a fine husband for me.

A fine husband who drank, gambled, visited brothels, took concubines, and maintained a mistress.

Before Mother died, she had clutched my hand and said only one thing: “Live.”

Yes. Live. As long as I remained alive, that was enough. I had no right to hope for anything more.

The Empress betrothed Yong’an to the Fu family’s Third Young Master, Fu Jing-Yong’an’s maternal cousin and the most radiant young gentleman in the clan.

Fu Jing was the second son of the Empress’s full brother and the grandson of Fu Jun, the current Chancellor of the Right.

At sixteen, he was tall, handsome, high-spirited, and free. He had entered and left the palace since childhood, and the Empress doted on him scarcely less than she did the Crown Prince.

He was the brightest young man in the entire capital.

He and Yong’an had grown up together. Whenever he entered the palace, Yong’an’s spirits improved, and she tormented me considerably less.

I followed behind Yong’an as they admired blossoms, plucked osmanthus, and traded lines of poetry. Sunlight fell over Fu Jing and made him seem to shine.

I admired him from afar. He was the only beam of light in my life.

Even though his aunt and I were bound by a blood feud.

At times, his gaze landed on me. I would quietly turn my head away, afraid to meet his eyes. I feared that a single glance would plunge me beyond redemption.