The man who once showered her with affection in the open had crept into her sister's bed come nightfall.
"Valda is already carrying my child. She deserves a proper title. You should voluntarily step down and be her concubine."
Everyone expected Emily to break down in rage, but instead, she simply smiled and gave a quiet nod.
Ezekial, pleased, added, "Look at you, being so sensible. Once Valda gives birth, I'll restore your status as my official wife."
Emily said nothing.
But the very next day, while Evergrace Mansion celebrated a grand wedding, Angelou Mansion was engulfed in flames, burning well into the night.
From that moment on, Emily ceased to exist in this world.
"Emily, guess what I brought for you?"
Ezekial walked into the room cradling a lantern.
Emily took the intricately crafted carousel lantern, her fingers brushing the warm jade handle—identical to the one she had seen in Valda's courtyard.
"Did you have this made just for me?" There was a flicker in Emily's eyes, her lips barely steady.
Had she not seen the same lantern at Valda's place just yesterday, she might've been touched.
"Of course. I specifically asked the craftsmen of Linglong Workshop to make it. There's only one like it in the whole capital—you'll absolutely stand out tomorrow."
Lantern Festival was just around the corner, a time when young ladies flaunted their lanterns in a silent yet intense rivalry.
Everyone knew the finest lanterns came from Linglong Workshop in Jiangnan, especially the carousel ones.
Every year, nobles sent servants to place orders ahead of time, but this time, Evergrace Mansion had scooped up the artisans before anyone else.
People around the city all believed Ezekial adored his fiancée to the point of madness—his dramatic shows of affection had always drawn attention.
Clearly, everyone thought this was just another grand gesture to please her.
But Emily cast her gaze downward, unable to shake the disappointment curling in her chest. Of course she noticed Ezekial's brief flash of unease.
"You haven't been to my family's estate recently, have you?" she asked casually, though her eyes shimmered with quiet distrust.
Ezekial hesitated before replying with a smile, "I've been tied up planning for the lantern event. I left the house matters to the staff and haven't stopped by."
His nonchalance sent a cold shiver through her.
He was lying. Marilyn had seen him enter the mansion yesterday and he hadn't left for a whole incense's time.
No wonder Valda suddenly insisted she come admire her lantern.
So this was how they wanted her to know—she was no longer special to him. Just another name in his life.
She couldn't understand it. How could someone who once loved her so deeply change overnight?
She could still vividly remember the day ten years ago when she slipped by the lake and he jumped in without hesitation, the freezing water soaking him head to toe.
He held her hand tightly, soaked and shivering, as he whispered, "Emily, as long as I'm here, you'll never have to be afraid."
Three years ago, at a grand family banquet in Evergrace Mansion, he had sworn in front of all the guests, "Emily is the only wife I will ever have. If I betray her, may lightning strike me down!"
Back then, she thought no love could be deeper than his.
Now, that promise was nothing but a cruel joke.
Emily clenched her fists, forcing down the bitterness rising in her chest.
Could he have had no choice?
She didn't want to believe that the man who once risked his life for her would just toss aside his vows so easily.
So when Ezekial left, she couldn't stop herself—she followed him without a second thought.
Not even a few steps outside the courtyard, and there he was—running into Valda.
Valda bowed politely at first, but the next moment, the fragile-looking girl collapsed straight into Ezekial's arms.
And he didn't even push her away. Instead, he glanced around quickly, then slid his arm around her waist and pulled her behind the rock garden.
"Couldn't wait to find me again? Didn't I wear you out last night already?" Ezekial's voice was low and teasing—his polished noble demeanor nowhere to be found. Instead, he sounded like someone far less honorable.
Valda squirmed in his arms, body brushing against his like she was half-flirting, half-pouting.
"It's always your sister in your heart, not me. How could you ever think of me when you're always chasing after her?"
Seeing her cry, Ezekial quickly softened. "Come on, don't be mad, I was just sending her a lantern. You're really upset over that? After last night, I thought you'd be satisfied… or are you saying you still want more?"
"Stop it... Ezekial..." she whispered, voice breathless.
Not far off, Emily stood frozen in place, her face drained of all color.
She stumbled back to her courtyard like a ghost, quietly dismissing every servant.
Once she was alone, a single tear slipped down her cheek. Her lips were pale, her expression empty.
On her dressing table, the white jade hairpin Ezekial gave her years ago still sat where she had left it.
He'd given it to her eight years ago.
Back then, her mother had just passed, and Madam Flew had swooped in with her own daughter, Valda, to take over the household.
From that point on, Emily became invisible.
Her father had only two daughters. While she was the eldest, she was never the favored one.
No matter how often outsiders praised her as the perfect Angelou heiress—graceful, educated, kind—it didn't change the fact that inside the estate, it was always Valda who stood in the light.
But Ezekial didn't care about any of that. He always stood by her, shielding her whenever she needed it, always thinking of her before anyone else.
Right after her coming-of-age ceremony, he had gone to his mother and begged for their engagement. In public or in private, she had always been his treasure.
She thought she was lucky, believed she'd found someone worth spending the rest of her life with.
But in just a few short years, that devoted man vanished, replaced by someone she could barely recognize—a liar full of empty words and betrayals.
Emily cried until her chest ached, but never made a sound. Eventually, her tears ran dry, and her heart went with them.
She sat motionless until dawn.
At first light, she opened her jewelry box and took out a jade pendant.
Half a stick of incense later, she had changed into a man's robe and made her way to a teahouse, where she met someone she'd once saved—separated by a screen, out of sight.
"Miss Angelou, have you made up your mind?"
Emily gripped her teacup, her voice steady. "I want to fake my death and disappear. Can you make that happen?"
The man gave her a slow smile.
"Alright, but you'll need to wait. Two months from now there'll be an opening. Just know—once we start, there's no going back. Think it through."
Emily pressed her lips together tightly. Somehow, she found the nerve to pull a dagger from her sleeve. With one quick motion, the blade sliced her palm. Blood dripped onto the table, staining the tea red.
She said, each word heavy and clear, "With my blood, I make this vow. I won't regret this."
By the time she got back to Angelou Mansion, dusk had already settled in. The entire estate was buzzing in preparation for the Lantern Festival that evening.
Not without reason—whoever's lantern won tonight would get a dowry gift straight from the palace. To any unmarried girl, that prize was tempting beyond words.
"Miss, you're back at last!"
Marilyn was practically pacing holes into the ground outside the courtyard. Her young mistress had only said she was stepping out for a while, but it was already evening and still no sign of her.
Too scared to leave the estate in search, she could only wait, nerves fraying.
"Miss, everything for the festival is ready. Second Miss has come by to rush you several times already... and Young Master Zion even sent someone to wait outside."
Emily just gave a light hum and let her maids help her change.
Tonight, she wore a soft blue surcoat over a pleated skirt patterned with misty green blossoms. A sheer shawl of pale smoke-blue draped around her shoulders. Her frame was delicate, skin smooth as porcelain, and she moved with an understated grace.
Marilyn followed behind, holding a flower lantern. The moment they stepped out towards the front courtyard, Emily spotted Valda waving at her in the distance.
She started walking over, but the smile at her lips faded quickly.
Valda was dressed to the nines tonight—moon-white robes with feathered shoulders, a silken pink and cream gown underneath. Her waist was trim, and her figure could turn heads with ease.
Her maid stood behind her, also holding a lantern—though wrapped in a black cloth, Emily recognized it instantly. It was the same kind Ezekial had once gifted her.
The two sisters got into their sedans, and the procession set off.
The Lantern Festival took place beneath the imperial city walls, overseen by several noble ladies from the palace.
Emily lifted the curtain of her ride to look out, just in time to see Ezekial ride up beside them. He leaned down slightly to meet her gaze.
"You look stunning tonight, Emily. You'll surely win."
She lowered her eyes to hide any flicker of expression, replying plainly, "All the families are bringing their best. I may not come out on top."
But Ezekial seemed oddly confident.
"As long as my sister's carrying the lantern I gave, victory's certain."
He didn't even realize he looked back at Valda's carriage right after he spoke.
Emily looked down at the lantern resting by her feet, its cloth cover still in place. A wry smile tugged at her lips.
When they arrived at the city gates, Emily stepped into the circle where the young noble ladies were gathering, her lantern in hand. Eyes turned to her immediately.
"I heard Zion got Lantern Pavilion to custom-make a running horse lantern this year. Looks like Angelou's eldest will be the star tonight."
"Well, no surprise there. She's always been Zion's favorite."
Listening to the chatter around her, Emily lowered her gaze, the light in her eyes dim.
Let them talk. Once Valda unveiled her lantern, they'd see clearly what kind of man Ezekial really was.
As always, the court ladies would first say a few ceremonial blessings, and then the young ladies would go up one by one to display their handcrafted lanterns.
The Angelous held a powerful position at court, so naturally, the daughters of their house followed immediately after the noble ladies and princesses had taken the stage.
As the head daughter, Emily should've gone up first. But, of course, Valda insisted they go together.
"Sister, let's go up together!"
With that, she grabbed Emily's hand and pulled her toward the platform.
Emily didn't argue. At this point, whether she went along or not, she'd still be blamed for something.
Up on the palace wall, the Duchess of Evergrace stood beside the Imperial Consort, watching the stage unfold.
"That must be the eldest Angelou girl, right? The one your son's engaged to? And she's the one holding that carousel lantern, isn't she?"
The Consort had been close friends with the Evergrace Duchess since girlhood, so she paid special attention to Emily.
The Duchess simply nodded with a smile. The marriage between the Angelous and the Zions had been arranged long ago—it didn't really matter to her whether it was the older or younger sister. As long as her son was happy, she didn't mind indulging him with a few tricks tonight to bless the engagement.
When the court lady announced the lantern unveiling, both Emily and Valda removed the black cloths covering theirs.
But to everyone's surprise, the rumored exquisite carousel lantern wasn't in Emily's hands—it was Valda who held it.
As the candle warmed the base, the carved pattern spun slowly, and the projected images danced across the palace wall—telling the story of "The Phoenix Seeks Its Mate," a well-known romance.
Nothing unusual at first. It was common for an unmarried young woman to long for love.
But here's the thing—Ezekial had publicly said just two weeks ago that he was designing a themed lantern based on "The Phoenix Seeks Its Mate" for the woman he loved most.
So… if Valda had that lantern in her hands, didn't that hint that she—not Emily—was the one he truly loved?
Valda's eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction as the lantern caught everyone's attention.
"Sister, I'm so sorry—the handmaid must've mixed them up! This one was actually a gift from Ezekial," she said in mock innocence. "Didn't mean to steal your moment."
Emily stared coldly at her. Not like she didn't know what Valda was playing at—making a show out of embarrassing her in front of the entire capital.
Without a word, she lifted her own lantern and stepped down from the stage, refusing to give Valda any more oxygen.
"Then make sure you hold on tight. I've heard it's worth more than gold. Would be such a waste if you let it fall," she said coolly.
As the final lantern lit up the night sky, the festival officially came to an end.
The Imperial Consort named Miss Angelou as the event's winner.
But funny enough, she didn't specify which Miss Angelou.
So the second they stepped into the gates of the Angelou estate, Valda dropped to her knees in front of Emily.
"Sister, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it. Please don't be angry," she begged.
Ezekial walked in right after them. His eyes lingered sympathetically on Valda's trembling form.
"Emily, I was the one who gave the lantern to Valda. If you're upset, take it out on me. Don't make things hard for her."
Emily lifted her eyes to Ezekial, a dull ache pulling at her chest for no reason she could explain.
"I haven't even said a word since I stepped in — how am I making things hard for her? If you're so worried, just tell her to get up. I sure didn't force anyone to kneel."
Ezekial had never seen this side of Emily before — sharp, unrelenting — and for a moment, he was at a loss. He turned quickly to Valda instead.
"Valda, just get up first, alright?"
But Valda didn't move. Her back straightened as she addressed Emily.
"Please, elder sister, help me this once. I was born without much to rely on, not like you who's been promised such a fortunate match. I'm asking you to give me the royal dowry today's winner gets, so I might have something to lean on, so I won't suffer once I marry."
"Emily," Ezekial added, his voice unusually soft, "just let Valda have it. Once we're married, I'll speak to the palace and get another one for you — how's that?"
He didn't even hesitate — just picked his side without thinking.
Emily looked at him, each word cutting into her heart.
He'd told her before, hadn't he? That he'd give her anything she wanted. But now the horse-lantern Valda got was supposed to be hers. Now even the royal dowry that should've gone to her, he wanted her to give that up too.
What did he even see her as now?
She stayed silent, and Ezekial, noticing it, felt a pang of guilt.
He hadn't resisted when Valda pouted and played cute — gave her the first lantern he made, despite what he'd promised Emily.
And now, he was forcing Emily to give up her rightful spot.
But seeing Valda shivering in the cold wind, slender and kneeling, his heart still leaned toward her.
He wavered, but in the end, he still sided with Valda.
"Emily, you're the elder sister. Letting your sister have her way — that's how it ought to be."
Emily shut her eyes. Coldness settled in her chest.
Since the day Valda had come to the Angelou household, people had kept telling her she was the older one, she should concede.
Even now, her own fiancé stood there saying the same thing — let Valda have it.
Why? Just because she was younger?
"Fine. You want it, take it."
She opened her eyes again, one tear rolling down, but her gaze was as calm as still water.
She looked at the girl kneeling on the floor with an unreadable expression.
Valda, on the other hand, brightened with joy. She stood and happily held onto Ezekial's arm, giggling.
"Ezekial, didn't you hear? Sister said she's giving it to me!"
Ezekial smiled and reached out, gently ruffling her hair, as if Emily's sadness didn't even exist.
As Valda passed by Emily, she leaned in close and whispered softly.
"Sister, to thank you… tonight at midnight, come to the attic room. I've got a nice little show for you."
With that, she swept off smugly.
Marilyn helped Emily back to her courtyard. The night air was cold as water, but nothing could match the chill in her heart.
At midnight, Emily went alone to the attic.
It was usually used for summer gatherings and mostly abandoned during winter.
Carrying a small lantern, she stepped inside — and immediately caught the sound of Valda's laughter.
"Ezekial..."
Emily stopped right there. Her lantern trembled in her hand.
In the side room, Valda wore only sheer gauze, playing around with a man.
She hooked her arms around Ezekial's neck. Their eyes locked, and as he leaned down to kiss her, she shyly pulled away.
"Ezekial's too impatient. I've got a new game in mind tonight."
Valda stood up, her tone casual, and slipped behind the screen to change.
A few moments later, she stepped back out, draped in a crimson gown that clung to her figure, alluring and sharp like a flame in the dark.
Ezekial blinked in surprise, then his brow furrowed.
"That's your sister's wedding dress—your mother left it for her. She said she'd only wear it on our wedding day. Why are you playing around with it now?"
Valda didn't even look fazed. She straddled his lap, traced slow patterns on his chest with one finger, her gaze teasing.
"What's the big deal? It's just a dress, not like it'll fall apart. Plus, don't you always like it when I wear Emily's things? This time I'm going all in—with her wedding gown. Doesn't that make it more exciting?"
The red silk slid aside, revealing porcelain skin.
Ezekial hesitated, something flickering in his eyes—maybe guilt, maybe doubt—but it didn't last long. He gave in without much of a fight.
Outside the door, Emily had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from making a sound.
She waited… and waited. It was nearly an hour before the noises quieted.
With her lantern in hand, she stumbled out of the building like a sleepwalker, and just as she turned into the garden path—she ran into him.
Fresh off his betrayal, Ezekial was caught off guard. Cold sweat broke down his back the moment he saw her. He hadn't expected to see Emily there of all places, not at that hour.
She looked at him, face unreadable, voice flat as she forced the pain back down.
"I couldn't sleep. Felt uneasy, so I came out for some air. What about you, Ezekial? Why are you here?"
His tension eased just a little. For a second, he really thought she knew.
He straightened up and replied, "Your father asked me to stay and discuss court matters. We talked late into the night. It's cold out—don't catch a chill. Let me walk you back."
He reached out to support her.
But the second his hand touched her, a wave of nausea surged up uncontrollably. Emily turned away and threw up on the spot.
"Emily? Are you alright? I'll call the doctor right away."
Ezekial looked panicked now, stepping toward her.
Emily braced herself, squeezing his arm to steady her voice.
"No need. Just a little dizzy. Help me back to my quarters—that'll do."
He didn't suspect a thing, and gently led her back toward the courtyard. The trees rustled, dry branches scratching in the wind.
Alone again, Emily lifted her hand to her cheek, surprised to find it dry. No more tears left.
Her fingers brushed against the bracelet her mother had left her.
She had made up her mind. Before faking her death, she'd break off the engagement.
Everyone knew that Grand Chancellor Booth had no son, only two daughters.
But Emily, the elder, had never felt like part of the family.
It was Valda—though born of a stepmother—who had always been the apple of Booth's eye.
So, when Emily walked into the dining hall and saw Booth, Flew, and Valda cheerfully sharing breakfast like a perfect little family, she wasn't even surprised.
She greeted them properly, and a servant quickly set a place for her.
Emily lowered her head and quietly ate her porridge. She knew what to expect.
"Your sister won first place at the Lantern Festival yesterday," Booth announced. "I've already let her collect the reward from the palace."
Emily didn't respond. The sweet porridge in her mouth had never tasted so bitter.
Before Booth even finished his sentence, Lady Flew's voice interrupted from the side.
"Since the dowry's going to Valda anyway, why not just let her marry in Emily's place? After all, back then the Angelou and Zion families said it was a marriage alliance, but they never specifically named who."
Emily felt her chest tighten. Everyone in the city knew the Zion family's eldest son was meant to marry her. If Valda suddenly stepped in, wouldn't that scream to the whole world that she'd been dumped?
For an unmarried woman, a reputation like that meant only two options: shave her head and join a temple or kill herself to prove she was innocent.
Clearly, though, neither Booth nor Lady Flew gave a damn about her reputation—or her life.
"That may sound like a clever plan," Booth finally said, "but it still depends on whether the young master of Zion agrees. It's not that easy to switch brides just like that."
He was tempted, of course. If his younger daughter could marry into Evergrace Mansion, it'd be a win. Anyone with half a brain could see Ezekial was going places. As long as he didn't slip up, a top court position was his for the taking.
Still, in the end, Ezekial had to be the one to decide whom he wanted to marry.
Emily stayed silent through the entire meal, quietly picking at her food. How absurd. Her entire future was up for negotiation, it seemed. Everyone could weigh in—except her.
After breakfast, she returned to her courtyard. Marilyn, who'd been holding it in all morning, finally snapped.
"Master's being so unfair! That dowry was clearly promised to you, Miss, and now not only does he give it away to Second Miss, he's actually thinking of marrying her off in your place?!"
Emily gave a sad, hollow smile. Ezekial used to treasure her—and look how quickly that changed. Her father had barely looked at her since she was a child; why expect anything now?
Marilyn's heart clenched at her lady's pale and listless face. She suggested softly, "Miss, the plum blossoms in the back garden have started blooming. Do you want to go have a look?"
Emily stopped in her tracks. Those plum trees were planted by her mother before she passed—Booth's first wife, the one who supported him all the way from a nobody to a top minister. She died the year he became Chancellor.
Not many left in this house remembered her at all.
Taking the path toward the rear garden, Emily slowed when she heard voices coming from the pavilion. It was Valda and Lady Flew.
"Valda, even if you can only be a concubine, you must get into the Evergrace Mansion," Lady Flew said firmly.
"Mother, I'm not about to rank beneath Emily," Valda huffed. "If I'm gonna marry into that house, it'll be as the main wife."
She'd always had the upper hand over Emily in this household—no way she'd settle for less now.
"Don't act like being a concubine is the end of the world," Lady Flew said calmly. "What matters is ending up as the Zion lady in the end. I started off as your father's concubine too, and once Mindi died, I took her place."
Valda wrinkled her nose. "But Emily's not like that dead woman. I can't just sit around waiting for her to die, can I?"
"You really think Mindi died of illness? A legitimate wife who lost favor—if we wanted her gone quietly, shouldn't take much effort on our part, right?"
Emily nearly collapsed at Flew Madam's words. A wave of memories from her younger years came flooding back.
No wonder her mother had taken countless medicines, yet never got better.
No wonder the moment her mother passed, Father wasted no time in making Flew Madam his new wife.
So her mother hadn't died of illness—she'd been murdered.
Pain and rage churned in Emily's chest. She couldn't hold back any longer—storming into the room, she slapped Valda hard across the face.
"You dare hit me?" Valda stared at her in total shock. In her mind, Emily was always the quiet one, the kind who swallowed every grievance without a fight.
"So what if I did? You and your mother are pure poison. I should thank myself for not ending both your lives right now!"
Fury boiling, Emily yanked Valda by the collar and yanked a hairpin from her own bun, pressing its sharp tip against Valda's throat.
"Flew Madam, I'll ask you one last time—how did my mother really die?"
It finally dawned on Flew Madam that Emily had overheard their earlier conversation. Her gaze dropped to the sharp pin at her daughter's neck, face turning white.
"Emily, calm down… your mother did die from illness. I—yes, I had thought about poisoning her, but I didn't even get the chance. When I got wind of it, she was already too far gone. Ask the master yourself—after having you, her health never bounced back. No amount of tonic helped."
"Liar! You just said it yourself—you got rid of her. Now you're trying to cover it up?"
"I'm not lying! Just let Valda go, will you?"
"Do you really think I won't do it, sister?" Valda sneered. "If you kill me, won't Ezekial be heartbroken?"
Hearing his name, Emily's grip on the hairpin tightened.
Flew Madam glanced at her daughter in a panic, signaling her to stop provoking Emily, but Valda only smiled wider, leaning in to whisper by Emily's ear.
"Never thought you'd be this pathetic. All that love for Ezekial, yet you pretended nothing happened when I wore your wedding gown to sleep with him. Why not keep pretending now? Let's see, shall we—who will Ezekial pick this time, you or me?"
Emily's eyes turned icy cold.
Just then, a silhouette appeared in the distance. Valda's expression changed in an instant.
"Ezekial, help me! She found out everything—she's trying to kill me!"
Ezekial froze, his mind spinning.
"Emily, listen to me—it's not what you think—"
Without a word, Emily gripped Valda's hair tighter and moved the pin to that smug, pretty face of hers.
"Then explain it to me," she hissed. "Tell me—were you not involved with Valda? Or did you somehow manage to keep your hands off her?"
The blood drained from Ezekial's face, and with every word she said, he looked closer to crumbling.
"I… I was wrong, Emily. I shouldn't have…"
But the apology came too late—and meant nothing now.
Emily shut her eyes, every inch of her face painted with hurt.
"Ezekial, it's over. Let's end the engagement."
