One month later, I officially ascended the throne.

  I conferred the title of Empress upon Elias, granted Duke Braedon, Dorian Thorne, the honorary title of Grand Retired Emperor, and elevated Spring Myles to the rank of Grand Princess while naming Summer Myles as Princess Royal. In honor of Dorian Thorne’s daughter, Arianne, I posthumously bestowed upon her the title of Princess Serene Grace.

  I granted Elias’s father, the title of Imperial Advisor. He was so enraged that he fell ill, furiously penning dozens of letters berating Elias.

  In his response, Elias wrote:

  "This woman carries the will of heaven, and I have been fortunate enough to enchant her. If our lineage benefits from this throne, it is entirely due to my contributions. If Father does not appreciate it, that is one thing, but to reproach me for it—what an injustice!"

  Upon hearing of his father’s illness, I sent Liam north to assist him with state affairs.

  Duke Rowan, Alaric’s uncle, returned to Braedon to formally dissolve his marriage with Spring Myles. "I have spent my life immersed in politics, caught in endless turmoil. I am unworthy of being your husband."

  Spring Myles accepted this decision with calm indifference. Years ago, she had married him simply as part of our father’s grand plan—to select one among the four men of destiny. In the end, she had chosen the kindest among them.

  She remained in Braedon, shaving her head and dedicating herself to solitude.

  Meanwhile, Summer Myles had fully recovered, and I brought her back to the palace.

  Together, we visited an old adversary—Crown Prince Alaric.

  Crown Prince Alaric had been imprisoned in the Eastern Palace.

  He sat motionless inside his chamber, his lifeless gaze fixed upon the slivers of sky visible through the lattice windows.

  Occasionally, a sparrow flitted past, and only then did his vacant eyes stir with a brief glimmer of emotion—a fleeting smile of delusion.

  Upon witnessing this sight, Summer Myles sneered, "Your Highness, a ruthless, selfish man like you meeting this end—it truly is gratifying to see."

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Hearing her voice, Alaric’s body tensed. Slowly, he turned toward the doorway, his eyes still void of warmth. "Useless wretch. This is all you could accomplish for me?"

  Summer Myles’s expression darkened, her hatred surfacing as she turned toward me. "Do not let him eat. Give him nothing but a bowl of slop each day. I want him to experience hunger for the rest of his life."

  I ordered my attendants to carry out her request. After all, I had only promised to spare his life, nothing more.

  Summer Myles watched Alaric with cold detachment. "Your Highness, the starvation you evaded all those years ago during the famine relief effort—you will now repay it in full."

  Alaric smirked, turning his head away in silence.

  I placed a phoenix hairpin on the table before him. "A relic of the late Empress. It is time for it to return to its rightful owner."

  For the first time, his expression cracked. He lunged for the hairpin, clutching it in a white-knuckled grip. "Where is she? Is she still alive?"

  I met his desperate gaze with impassivity. "She is dead."

  "You… you…" His body trembled violently, his lips paling. "The child… she got rid of it. She thought Elias would return and make her Empress."

  Alaric lowered his head, burying his face in his sleeves, his shoulders shaking as laughter mixed with sobs. "She was such a fool."

  I watched him without pity. "Perhaps you do not know—Winter Myles was a child I found at the foot of White Cloud Monastery. She was always afraid of the cold, her complexion pale as snow. Later, I discovered that her heart was positioned just below her throat. This very hairpin was what ended her life."

  I paused, my gaze boring into him. "White Cloud Monastery is not far from the riverbank. Perhaps the child your mother spoke of—after being poisoned and left for dead—was revived by the river's current. Do you believe it?"

  His eyes widened in horror, his fingernails digging into the edge of the table until blood seeped from his fingertips.

  "You are… lying! Autumn Myles, you are lying!"

  I arched a brow. "Am I? Your father never laid a hand on her. He even allowed her to meet Consort Thorne. But my foolish sister was too headstrong, and her conflict with the consort led to everything being buried in secrecy."

  Alaric roared in fury, "Wretched liar! That child died—she died long ago!"

  His fury collapsed into anguish. He covered his face and slumped forward, sobbing uncontrollably.

  After a long while, he lifted his tear-streaked face to me, his voice barely a whisper. "Did… did you ever tell her?"

  I gazed down at him with indifference. "No. I did not tell her, because I pitied her. I am telling you because you deserve to suffer."

  With a heart-wrenching wail, Alaric collapsed to the floor, clutching the hairpin as if it were his last tether to reality.

  Leaving the Eastern Palace, I turned to Summer Myles.

  "Sister, why did you choose the Crown Prince?" I asked, tilting my head in curiosity.

  "Considering the current situation, Elias’s life expectancy is hardly shorter than his."

  Summer Myles glanced at me. "As an older sister, no matter how terrible I may be, I would never choose the man my younger sister loves."

  Five years later, Duke Braedon, Dorian Thorne, fell gravely ill.

  I personally escorted Arthur Myles back to the southwest, ensuring his rightful inheritance of the Braedon Dukedom.

  Lying weakly on his sickbed, Dorian Thorne’s dim eyes flickered open as his rough, aged hand reached out to caress Arthur's face.