Barbara snapped an order at her servants to strip Melissa of her gown and exchange it for her own. Melissa didn't understand what was happening, but she knew it was nothing good.
She struggled and cried out—a faint sound that, carried on the breeze, Tyler recognized at once as hers.
He followed the voice and found her. At the sight of him, Melissa’s eyes lit with hope.
“Husband, help me!”
Instantly, Barbara put on a pitiful expression. “Cousin, Sister accidentally broke the Empress Dowager’s favorite flower. I tried to shield her and ended up with my dress covered in soil.”
Tyler’s gaze dropped to the shattered remains of the Imperial Yellow Peony on the ground. In an instant, he concluded Melissa was at fault yet again.
“In that case, Melissa,” he said firmly, “give your dress to Barbara. She is about to compete in the Season’s Debutante Ball. She must become the Capital’s foremost talent. She cannot afford to be reprimanded by the Empress Dowager—not now, when so much is at stake.”
Melissa stared at him, disbelief widening her eyes. “And what about me? Is it acceptable for *me* to be reprimanded and lose all face?”
Avoiding her gaze, Tyler replied sternly, “You broke the flower, Melissa. You must take responsibility for your mistake.”
“It wasn’t me, I didn’t—” She kept pleading her innocence, but Tyler refused to listen. His face cold, he ordered the servants to force the exchange.
And so Melissa was compelled to appear before the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet in a soiled dress to offer her apology.
Tyler stood to one side, watching her kneel there—helpless, confused—with nothing but chilly indifference.
The Empress Dowager, already displeased and nursing a sour mood with no outlet, found in Melissa the perfect target. She immediately signaled her attendants to slap the girl hard across the face.
Terrified, Melissa rushed to explain. “No, Your Majesty, this isn’t my dress! I didn’t break the flower! She did!”
For a moment, every eye followed her pointing finger to Barbara.
Panicked, Barbara dropped to her knees, denying everything.
The Empress Dowager glanced at Tyler, who showed no intention of speaking up for his wife. “General Tyler,” she asked, “whom do you believe I should trust?”
Tyler answered with righteous conviction, like some impartial judge. “Your Majesty, my wife is not in her right mind. She often stirs up trouble. I cannot shield her at the expense of wronging an innocent person.”
With a nod, the Empress Dowager motioned for the palace attendants to take Melissa away.
“No! I didn’t do it! Tyler, how can you say it was me?” Burning with fever and weak, Melissa had little strength left to struggle as they dragged her off.
After several blows, her face swelled instantly. Soon the pain grew numb; both cheeks were left grotesquely puffed and bruised. By the journey’s end, she was barely conscious.
In the carriage, Tyler asked Barbara whether the day’s events had frightened her. As for Melissa, who sat turned away in silence, he assumed she was merely sulking. He made no move to comfort her, intent on teaching her a lesson.
Passing the Five Blessings Pavilion, Tyler mentioned he wanted to buy some pastries for Barbara.
When they returned from the shop, Melissa was gone.
Stumbling from the carriage earlier, Melissa had glimpsed—through her haze and the fluttering curtain—someone from Jeffrey’s Manor. The sight jolted her awake. Seizing the moment the carriage paused, she had slipped away unnoticed.
As it happened, a servant from Jeffrey’s Manor had been on his way to Tyler’s estate to find her. “My master was overjoyed to receive your reply, madam,” he said quietly. “He vows to travel day and night to return. He should be back within five days.”
Hearing this, Melissa felt a flicker of joy. Soon. She wouldn’t have to play the fool much longer.
