Chapter 2
The Makaeri Palace, four months prior.
“Elfreda, your destination is Machi. You are to serve as their queen.”
The decree left Elfreda speechless. She had arrived at the summons with a racing heart, expecting a warm reception, only to be met with a command that bypassed all pleasantries.
Observing her stunned silence, the Empress spoke with a deceptive softness.
“Are you familiar with the location of Machi?”
Elfreda was aware of the place. It was an island nation requiring over a week of travel by sea from the empire’s primary harbor. Unlike other neighboring territories, it remained independent and was not a subject of Makaeri.
In truth, its sovereignty was a testament to the empire’s failed military campaigns.
The deep-seated animosity between the two realms was common knowledge across the continent. Yet, beyond the political tension, Elfreda knew her status as a child born out of wedlock made her an unfit candidate for a royal union designed to secure peace.
“I understood that Princess Serena was the one intended for that throne…”
The moment her half-sister’s name left her lips, the Empress’s features hardened. Elfreda instantly tucked her chin, regretting her impulsive comment.
While she mentally rebuked herself for the slip, the Empress’s tone turned icy.
“Serena’s adulthood rites occur this coming spring. My wish is for her to remain under my protection for the ceremony, yet the Emperor insists on finalizing this alliance immediately.”
A thin, practiced smile touched the Empress’s lips as she reached out to stroke Elfreda’s hair with a false show of affection.
“You carry the blood of the empire as well. Your lineage is sufficient. No one will question your arrival in place of my biological child.”
The phrase ‘my biological child’ hit Elfreda like a physical blow. Despite the physical closeness, the distinction in the Empress’s words was sharp and painful. Elfreda’s gaze dropped, her heart heavy with the reminder of her place.
There had been a brief window, nearly two decades ago, when she truly belonged to the Empress.
After her birth mother passed away, the then-childless Empress had taken the illegitimate infant in as her own. But that period of grace lasted less than a year. Once the Empress miraculously conceived her own daughter, Elfreda was cast aside.
Since then, the entire palace followed the Empress’s lead, treating Elfreda with nothing but coldness and disdain.
For seventeen years, Elfreda had reached out for even a shred of maternal warmth. Each attempt was met with a frigid wall. It was as if that first year of motherly care had been a hallucination. To the Empress, Elfreda was a walking reminder of her husband’s infidelity—an eyesore that only grew more irritating with time.
“Furthermore,” the Empress continued, “the age of the Machi King makes you a far more appropriate match.”
“I doubt I will be welcomed,” Elfreda whispered, her eyes filled with apprehension. “Machi will surely take offense to a queen of illegitimate birth.”
“The Emperor is managing the logistics of your status. It is not your concern. Simply remain silent and there will be no issues.”
The Empress’s voice dropped an octave, signaling her growing impatience with Elfreda’s hesitation. Elfreda bowed her head immediately.
“Forced apologies. I spoke out of turn.”
“See that you remember that.”
The Empress resumed her mask of regal composure.
“You must maintain the highest standards of behavior in Machi. You represent our empire. I will not have the reputation of Makaeri tarnished by those wretched people who wallow in their own misery.”
“I shall strive to uphold our honor,” Elfreda replied.
“Indeed, you must.”
Finally appearing content, the Empress gestured toward the exit.
“You are dismissed. I have pressing matters to attend to.”
As Elfreda turned to leave the sitting room, the doors swung open with violence. A figure charged inside, slamming into Elfreda’s shoulder. Though the impact sent the slight girl stumbling, the newcomer didn’t pause to offer an apology, rushing instead toward the Empress.
The Empress stood up, her face lighting up with genuine joy, completely ignoring Elfreda’s presence.
A bright, youthful voice filled the air.
“Mama!”
“My dear Serena, you mustn’t run like that! You might hurt yourself.”
“I’m perfectly fine! I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long?”
“Not at all, darling. Your timing is exquisite.”
“Look, I brought the head chef’s latest pastries for our tea. They’re still warm!”
“You are the only one who truly looks after me, Serena.”
While the mother and daughter shared their warm exchange, the servants moved with practiced efficiency to set the table.
Elfreda remained still for a moment, watching from the periphery. Though she stood in the same room, she felt as though she were observing a play from behind a glass wall. It wasn’t simple envy she felt; she knew better than to compare herself to the Empress’s true flesh and blood.
It was a hollow, aching void.
“Are you still standing there?”
The sharp inquiry cut through the atmosphere.
Under the cold, annoyed stares of the Empress and Serena, Elfreda bowed quickly and retreated. As she walked away, the sounds of their shared laughter echoed down the hallway—a perfect, harmonious melody of a mother and her child.
The pain of that laughter cut deeper than the news of her impending exile to a foreign land.
She realized then that the dream of being loved by her mother was far more impossible than avoiding the marriage to the King of Machi.
The transition happened with startling speed. Only days after the initial announcement, Elfreda was informed that her departure was imminent.
She was sent away on a massive vessel, surrounded by a sea of servants and crates of expensive tributes.
The luxury of the voyage did nothing to soothe her nerves. She wasn’t just mourning the loss of her home or feeling awkward about the sudden, superficial deference shown by her new attendants.
Her mind was consumed by the dread of what waited for her across the ocean.
The marriage was framed as a diplomatic bridge between the empire and the island kingdom.
Machi held the monopoly on rare spices that the rest of the world craved, yet Makaeri—despite its vast power—could never secure a trade route. Distance wasn’t the obstacle.
The empire’s founder, Gunnar, had famously failed to subdue the island. The waters separating the two nations were treacherous, a graveyard of ships that had successfully defended Machi from invasion for generations.
This history of failed conquest had left the two nations in a state of perpetual hostility.
But the recent history was even darker.
A few years prior, the former King of Machi and his heir had been killed in a conflict while defending an ally from a Makaeri invasion.
The people of Machi already viewed the empire as a collection of uncultured savages. The death of their royal family turned that disdain into a burning, national fury.
The current King, the late monarch’s nephew, had completely isolated his country from the empire until Makaeri finally blinked, offering a royal bride as a desperate peace offering.
‘This is a trap,’ Elfreda thought.
In Machi, her status as an illegitimate child made her disposable.
The public might believe she was the Empress’s firstborn, but the truth was an open secret. She doubted the people of Machi would remain deceived for long. And once they discovered the empire had sent them a “tainted” princess, the retaliation against the “barbarian queen” would be merciless.
The title of Queen felt like a noose, not a crown.
After nineteen grueling days at sea, Elfreda Makaeri finally stepped onto the docks of her new home.
“Greetings. I am Marchioness Magnum. I have been appointed to oversee your household.”
The woman who met her at the palace gates spoke the words of welcome, but her expression was like stone.
Elfreda forced a polite smile, recognizing immediately that her life here would be a battle of endurance.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Marchioness.”
“Follow me. I will show you to your apartments.”
As they walked through the corridors, Elfreda studied her surroundings with keen interest.
Machi was a land of sophisticated culture and formidable military strength, a rare nation that had never buckled under the weight of the Makaeri war machine.
The palace reflected this strength; it was steeped in an elegance and grandeur that the empire lacked. While the Makaeri palace was undeniably larger, it felt hollow and gaudy compared to the refined artistry of Machi.
She found herself momentarily lost in the beauty of the architecture.
“Look at her. Truly a barbarian, staring at the walls like a commoner.”
“The Makaeri palace is just a giant, ugly box. They have no concept of grace.”
“One shouldn’t expect a savage to understand true art.”
The biting whispers of the local ladies-in-waiting trailed after her, sharp and unavoidable.
