On the day of my investiture as Noble Consort, I wore the late Empress's ceremonial gown by mistake.

The husband who had stood beside me for ten years regarded me with flat indifference. "A poor imitation. Unfit for the title."

The ceremony ground to a halt. The princess I had raised for a decade turned on me with open disgust:

"I knew it! You've been trying to take my mother's place all along! I will never let a scheming woman like you get what she wants!"

She hurled the blessing charm I had spent half a year embroidering into the brazier, then beat her small fists against my body.

A child's blows carried little force. But they shattered my heart completely.

I looked at her and spoke, word by word:

"What I wanted was never to replace anyone, and certainly never to become Empress."

…

The sun blazed overhead, but no amount of light could melt the prejudice frozen in their hearts.

The ceremonial gown, discarded to one side, seemed to mock my carelessness and my stupidity.

I paid no attention to the prying stares and whispered ridicule around me. All I wanted was to leave this place as quickly as I could.

But Eloise Abbott seized my arm. "You say you never wanted to be Empress. Then why didn't you refuse when I brought you Mother's gown?"

"You say you never wanted to replace her. Then why were you so happy when Father agreed to make you Noble Consort?"

"You promised I'd be your only child. So why did you give birth to Rosalind!"

Eloise's eyes were rimmed red, brimming with what looked like a thousand grievances.

But I did not step forward and gather her into my arms the way I always had. I simply looked at her, expression blank, and said nothing.

My unblinking gaze made her flinch. Her eyes darted sideways.

She tried to hold her ground, lips trembling around the words: "Why are you staring at me? Why won't you explain yourself? The ceremony didn't go through. You must be furious!"

My voice came out flat. "Eloise, since this is what you wanted to see, then consider it done."

Three days ago, the ceremonial gown delivered by the Imperial Household Bureau had been stained with paint by Eloise during one of her drawing sessions. The pigment would not wash out.

I had been about to request a replacement, but Eloise dropped the hostility she usually wore around me and came to me with a bright smile, offering an apology.

She even produced an exquisite gown of her own.

It looked slightly worn, but anyone could see it had been meticulously preserved.

Something felt wrong. I sent my handmaid to look into it.

The gown turned out to be the one the late Empress Isabelle had worn at her own investiture.

Knowing it was a line I could not cross, I tried to make Eloise take it back.

But she burst into tears, sobbing that she had cared for me as her true mother after ten years together, and that was the only reason she wanted me to wear Empress Isabelle's gown.

Then she demanded to know whether I looked down on it simply because it was made for a consort's rank, not an empress's.

Those words happened to reach Cassius Valdoran as he walked through the door. His gaze darkened, and he told me in a low voice to honor the child's wishes. He even remarked that I had worked hard, caring for Eloise day after day for ten years.

That evening, Cassius and Eloise dined together with me at Everspring Hall. He even agreed to bring Rosalind back from the Outer Estate where she had been raised.

I was overwhelmed. I believed that years of devotion had finally earned me a place in their hearts.

But the cold contempt Cassius and Eloise had just shown me tore that delusion to shreds.

I should have known long ago. Warm your hands against ice and all you get is water. You can't hold it, and you can't make it stay.

I gently pried Eloise's fingers from my arm.

"You were afraid I'd rise to the rank of Empress. Now my investiture as Noble Consort has been halted for the offense of wearing the late Empress's gown. Nothing like this has ever happened in our dynasty's history. From this day forward, I will be ridiculed and suspected by everyone. You've already gotten what you wanted. What more could you possibly be unsatisfied with?"

Eloise bristled like a cornered lion cub, teeth clenched, voice rising to a snarl. "I'm not satisfied! Not even close! Unless you go to the Emperor yourself and ask to be sent to the Cold Palace, you're just saying all this to trick me into feeling sorry for you!"

My gaze settled on her face. That small, childish face, barely bigger than my palm, was written over with nothing but fury aimed at me.

I was about to speak when I looked up and saw Cassius standing behind Eloise.

Those cold, imperious eyes, unchanged in ten years. Not by a fraction.

When I didn't respond, Eloise ground her teeth and snapped:

"I knew it! You've been playing hard to get this whole time! You say you don't want anything, you don't compete for anything, but the second I tell you to go to the Cold Palace, you won't do it! Liar!"

"Eloise."

Cassius said her name, just once, and every sharp edge on her smoothed out in an instant. She burrowed into his arms, small and pitiful.

Even though I had given Cassius a daughter five years ago, Eloise was still the only child who existed in his eyes.

He'd even sent my baby away the day after I gave birth, afraid that having my own child would make me less devoted to Eloise. A baby I had nearly died delivering.

The agony of labor was nothing compared to the pain of being separated from my daughter.

But for the honor of my family, for my parents stationed on the distant frontier, I had pulled myself together and gone back to pleasing this father and daughter.

Ten years, though.

I was done.

For the first time, I did not bow or greet Cassius. I looked him straight in the eye.

"Your subject Angelica Maxwell has offended the late Empress and failed in her care of Princess Eloise. I request to be sent to the Cold Palace."

Cassius walked toward me, slow and deliberate. Those deep-set eyes betrayed nothing.

"Are you throwing a tantrum?"

"But you did offend the late Empress today."

I knelt and pressed my forehead to the ground. "The fault is mine. I ask Your Majesty to send me to the Cold Palace."

I had called myself "your subject," not "your consort." The same term I'd used ten years ago, before any of this began.

Cassius's brow furrowed tight.

"Eloise spoke out of anger. Why must you hold it against her? Besides, she can't do without you."

"Apologize to her nicely, right now, and I'll pretend I never heard any of this."

He assumed I would do what I had always done: lower my head and beg their forgiveness.

I didn't move.

Eloise, tired of waiting for her apology, balled her fists and charged at me, pounding blow after blow against my body.

"You're the one who wants to take my mother's place! Why won't you apologize to me!"

"You promised you'd never have children of your own besides me! You lied! You're the one who wronged me!"

Her fists struck the exact spot where I'd been injured half a month ago, saving her when she fell from a horse. Pain tore through me so fast my face contorted.

Cassius only looked annoyed. "She's a ten-year-old girl. How hard can she possibly hit?"

Then the blood began seeping through my shoulder, staining the fabric dark.

Only then did his expression shift. He reached out and caught Eloise's arm.

Eloise stared at the spreading red, startled, but she still lifted her chin in defiance.

"You were already hurt. Don't you dare blame me for that!"

I looked at Eloise with a bitter half-smile. "The Princess is absolutely right."

I had no desire to argue with a child. All I wanted now was to get away from this father and daughter as fast as I could.

I had promised Cassius I would never bear a child of my own. Every time I was called to his bed, I drank the contraceptive draught without fail.

But five years ago, Cassius had accidentally been dosed with an aphrodisiac. That night he was relentless, and I couldn't escape him.

I didn't wake until the following evening. I took the draught immediately.

Two weeks later, the routine health check still came back pregnant.

Cassius said nothing at the time, but his brow stayed knotted, and it didn't ease.

The frontier was in crisis then. Morale among the troops had plummeted.

Cassius, still seething, had been withholding supply shipments. To rally the soldiers, to give my parents and brother fighting on the border something to hold on to, I had no choice.

I let word of the pregnancy spread.

Cassius had no sons. For a dynasty, there was no greater vulnerability.

So when news broke that I was with child, the entire empire believed the throne finally had an heir.

Morale had never been higher.

My father and brother had crushed the barbarian tribes that plagued the frontier for years, even capturing their prince.

From that moment on, the two of them saw me as a woman of calculating ambition.

Even when the child I bore turned out to be only a little princess, she was sent away from the palace the very next day.

The memory of that tiny face, glimpsed for barely a second, sent a dull ache through my chest.

I had done what I knew I shouldn't have. I had wanted too much.

I met Cassius's dark, unreadable gaze and spoke with all the sincerity I possessed:

"If Your Majesty still holds any regard for our past and cannot bring himself to banish me to the Cold Palace, then send me beyond the walls to be with Rosalind Abbott. Tell the court I left of my own will, to pray for the empire's prosperity."

A crease of anger had already settled between Cassius's brows:

"I've already shown you more kindness than you deserve. I even sent for Rosalind to be brought into the palace. What more do you want?"

"Even if Eloise went too far today, you raised her for ten years. That she turned out this way is your failure. What right do you have to be dissatisfied?"

My voice remained steady, earnest:

"I have no dissatisfaction. I only ask for Your Majesty's grace."

Cassius was silent for a long moment before his voice turned cold:

"No consort has ever left the palace. Since you've begged to be thrown into the Cold Palace, I'll grant your wish."

His tone shifted: "If you regret it, I can still revoke the order. The decree hasn't been announced to the other quarters yet."

I pressed my forehead to the ground and accepted. "I thank Your Majesty for his grace."

"Angelica!"

Cassius ground out my name through clenched teeth, then turned and swept from the room.

The Cold Palace was bleak and desolate, yet I felt lighter than I had in years.

If I hadn't come here, Eloise would only have grown more furious seeing me close to Rosalind.

She didn't love me, but she was fiercely possessive of me.

To embroider the perfect blessing charm for her, I had stitched a hundred and seventy-seven before she finally picked the one she liked.

The rest she burned in a single fire.

At the time, Eloise had said:

"I know you wanted to save one for Rosalind. But she doesn't deserve to have the same things as me."

Her smile was innocent. Her eyes were as cold and deep as her father's.

A plate of coarse bread and half-raw greens was set before me.

The maid who brought it looked vaguely familiar. She smiled and said:

"You're no Noble Consort now. You should count yourself lucky to get even this."

"If you hadn't served His Majesty all those years, you probably wouldn't get anything at all."

When I gave no reaction, she let out a theatrical sigh:

"Really, all you'd have to do is bow your head to His Majesty, and you could have any delicacy you wanted. You were a pampered young lady back home. Why ruin yourself over a moment of stubbornness?"

Behind the crumbling door, a sliver of imperial gold peeked into view.

I understood. This was Cassius's clumsy way of offering me a way out.

He had always used other people's mouths to remind me that I was nothing without him.

And I had always followed meekly behind him and his daughter, without a word of complaint.

Ten years of being hollow. I was done.

I fixed my gaze on that sliver of gold fabric and spoke:

"No feast in the world compares to this simple meal. These days in the Cold Palace have given me more peace than I ever knew before."

Here, I didn't need to please anyone. I didn't need to carry the weight of my family's honor.

And no one stood over me every waking moment to remind me I was a replacement, a cuckoo in another woman's nest.

The door slammed shut. The flash of gold vanished.

I had no interest in chasing after him. I turned back to my meal.

But a small figure came darting out from behind the door.

She had her hair tied in two little buns, and the moment she saw me, she called out for her mother, over and over.

We had never met before. Yet I knew her at a single glance. This was my flesh and blood, separated from me for five long years.