Esme—POV
Lady Marget held her fan just below her eyes as I bowed.
"Greetings, Former Empress Marget."
"Please raise your head, Lady Esme."
"Mother, this way for dinner," King Liam said calmly.
He sat at the head of the table, and Lady Marget took her seat beside him. She looked older now, but there was still a sharpness in her eyes—watching both me and Liam closely. Maids bustled in, serving dishes, and one quietly poured wine into my glass.
"Lady Esme," she said, pulling my attention from the plate in front of me. "I heard you've taken charge of the Eastborne land's budget and taxes."
"Yes, my lady," I replied. "I'll be overseeing the health department next."
"Well, good to hear. At least you're not as useless as the Western Land nobles," she said with biting disdain.
"Mother, please don't," Liam said, trying to keep the peace.
"Liam, let me speak. You know how I feel about the Western Land Princess becoming your bride," Lady Marget said bitterly. "You could've married someone from the Southern Lands—they're our allies."
Liam's stiffened expression made her stop. The silence was heavy.
"I'm sorry, Liam. I shouldn't have said—"
"You should apologize to my wife as well," he said. His tone was firm.
Lady Marget's jaw clenched. Her eyes shifted to me.
"My apologies… Lady Esme," she said through gritted teeth.
"It's alright, Lady Marget. Not all nobles from the Western Lands are the same," I replied calmly. Her frown deepened at my words.
I knew right then—she didn't like me. Not one bit.
Dinner continued in uncomfortable silence.
"Liam, go ahead," she said once we were finished. "I'd like a private word with Lady Esme."
My stomach twisted. Liam nodded and left. I followed Lady Marget to the tea parlor, where we both sat across from each other.
"Esme," she said, coldly. She didn't even try to show the courtesy of my title.
"Lady Marget, you should address me properly. I haven't—"
A sharp sting interrupted me. She slapped me.
I gasped, instinctively grabbing my cheek. She leaned forward and grabbed my jaw.
"You don't deserve it," she spat.
I slapped her hand away and glared at her. "How dare you lay your hands on me."
"Don't talk back to me just because you married my stepson. I don't care," she hissed. "I know your secret."
I froze. Her voice dropped as her hand lit up with magic, forming a shimmering dome of light around us.
"I know you're an illegitimate child," she whispered.
My breath caught in my throat.
"No, I'm not," I said firmly, doing my best to keep my composure.
"How long do you plan to pretend to be a noble, hmm?" she said, eyes narrowing. She pulled out a paper—my birth certificate.
I stared in shock. How did she get that?
"You're not of noble blood. Your mother was a maid in the Baredon house. A whore."
I wanted to scream. To tear the words right from her mouth. My mother was a good woman who fell in love without knowing he was married. That maid rumor—it wasn't true.
"Are you listening to me?" she snapped.
"What?" I murmured, barely hearing her over the roaring in my head.
"You will work for me," she said coldly. "If you don't, I'll make your secret public. You're not noble. You're an illegitimate child. You know what that means—execution for deceit, the end of the Baredon name, and a war in the Western Lands."
I gulped. I didn't care much for the Baredon family. But I cared about staying alive. My mother's voice echoed in my memory:
"Esme, stay alive. Stay happy. Find love. Promise me."
I made that promise. I had to keep it.
"You don't get to say no," she said, final and cruel.
"I'll do as you ask, Lady Marget," I said quietly.
She smiled—if you could call it that. It was evil.
And I realized… maybe I was not only forced to marry King Liam because of love or duty, but because my father had made me. He said if I didn't, I'd have to pay back everything—my mother's medical bills, the food, the clothes, the shelter, and the bare education I got. Not even my maid's job in Baredon Estate could cover that debt. Now I am forced to do work for this Lady Marget to keep myself alive.
"Good," she said. "I'll be in touch."
She snapped her fingers. Magic flickered in the air and brushed gently across my cheek. Healing magic. I recognized the sensation—it was the same as when Merina gave me an elixir for my back after a beating.
The dome dissolved as Lady Marget left the tea parlor.
I stood there, alone, my mind spinning. That awful feeling I had before meeting her—it had been right. Something terrible was beginning.
I hugged myself, tears in my eyes.
I'm alive.
I'm educated.
But I'm not happy yet.
And I haven't found love.
I am only signing myself into problems.