"My lord, the lady has taken no harmful draught. She is simply in a weakened state and requires strengthening tonics."
In an instant, every last one of Tyler’s doubts vanished. "Well?" he demanded, his voice sharp with anger. "What do you have to say for yourself now?"
"Barbara came only because she heard you were unwell. The medicine she brought was to help you recover. To me, it seems you and your maid conspired to entrap her. You will go and apologize to her immediately."
Melissa was stunned. The pain in her stomach sharpened—how could it be as the physician said?
"No. I won’t... She’s wicked. I refuse."
"And we are not sisters! Why does she keep calling me that? She is *your* cousin. Julia said she ought to address me properly, as 'sister-in-law'—"
***Slap!***
"Enough!"
Tyler was a trained martial artist. The force of his furious backhand left Melissa’s ears ringing, the world reduced to a muffled roar. Dazed, she watched him bark orders at the servants. Only when she saw Julia being seized and held did the reality of it all come crashing back.
Panic gripped her. Struggling to her feet, she threw herself onto her knees before Tyler. "Husband, I was wrong. Truly, I know I was wrong. Please, do not punish Julia..."
His face was stone, utterly indifferent to her pleading. With a dismissive wave of his hand, a servant raised a thick rod and brought it down heavily across Julia’s back.
Melissa scrambled forward, stumbling, trying to shield Julia with her own body. The servant could not check the blow in time. The rod struck Melissa squarely with a sickening thud. A sharp cry tore from her throat—then darkness swallowed her.
Three days later, Melissa awoke.
Tyler sighed in relief, then immediately scolded her. "A grown woman, with no sense of proportion."
She ignored him. Her first frantic thought was for Julia. "Where is Julia?"
He waved a hand. Two unfamiliar maids stepped forward. "Barbara selected them for you personally. They will attend you from now on."
Melissa shook her head vehemently. "No. I want only Julia. I don’t want anyone chosen by that woman."
His expression darkened. "It seems the lesson was not severe enough. Very well. Refuse them, and I will remove *all* the servants assigned to you."
The door slammed shut behind him. The room emptied swiftly, leaving only a deathly pale Melissa behind. She hugged herself tightly, weeping helplessly. She knew—Julia was never coming back.
Two days passed in a numb haze. On the third, she was hauled abruptly from her bed. Ignoring her feverish weakness, the new maids forcibly washed and dressed her. They dabbed rouge on her lips and powder on her cheeks, lending a faint, false color.
Lord Tyler and Barbara were waiting at the main gate. Taking in Melissa’s vacant expression, Tyler frowned. "Today is the Queen Mother’s birthday. Once we enter the palace, you will not disgrace us."
Barbara stepped forward warmly, linking her arm with Melissa’s. "Do not worry, cousin. I will look after my dear sister."
Tyler nodded, his gaze resting on Barbara with unmistakable admiration.
Melissa’s eyes darkened. She could not remember the last time her husband had looked at her that way. Somewhere along the line, his glances had become nothing but impatience and disdain.
Seeing Melissa’s ashen face, Barbara’s expression brimmed with smug satisfaction—a satisfaction that lasted right until the moment she, inside the palace, shattered the Queen Mother’s most prized possession: a potted **Ice-Blush Gentian**, a flower so rare it was said to be the only one in the entire capital.
Terror seized Barbara. Soil smeared the exquisite gown she had so carefully chosen. She scrubbed at it frantically, but the grime would not budge.
She glanced back at Melissa, who was following meekly. Seeing no one else nearby, a plan began to form in her mind.
