That year, when I entered the palace as queen, the king was already bedridden with illness. I understood that my marriage was nothing more than a tool in the hands of those who sought power.
I lived cautiously, never daring to step out of line, fearful that any misstep could bring disaster upon my father, who was stationed at the kingdom’s distant borders.
The only reckless thing I ever did was save him.
At the time, I didn’t know who he was. I simply saw a young boy freezing in the snow, and I couldn’t bear to let him die. So, I ordered my maid to bring him into my chambers.
It was only later that I learned his identity – he was Prince Caelan.
His mother had been Lady Seraphine, a princess sent to marry the king in a fragile peace treaty – my predecessor as queen.
But after a war reignited between the two kingdoms, Seraphine had taken her own life.
A prince with such a history – who wouldn’t have wanted him dead?
“Your Majesty, it’s too dangerous to save Prince Caelan. I should quietly send him back before anyone notices,” Viola, my maid, whispered urgently.
Viola was loyal, brought with me from my father’s estate, and she always had my best interest at heart.