Jimin having a headache was the perfect excuse for us both to leave the courtyard. I ushered him upstairs to lie down while I headed into the kitchen to prepare something special for him. It was something that my mother used to make us when anyone in my family was under the weather with a headache or migraine. She always said that fudgy chocolate brownies with a fresh, steaming mug of peppermint tea were the antidote for many ailments.

The smell of baked goods had brought the rest of the Parks into the kitchen. It had been a little over two weeks since I first started baking in the palace's kitchen. It seemed that the aromas permeating from the oven had become a Pavlovian response to the rest of the family, signalling for them to come to try the new treats. Luckily, I had already set aside some of the warm chocolate brownies for my boyfriend. The rest of the plate was quickly eaten when Jimin's brothers and father tried their first bites.

I grabbed the tray I'd made up for Jimin and headed up the stairs. I took each step gingerly to not jostle the tea or the small bowls of berries. Spilled berries I could handle but soggy brownies were completely unacceptable. A sigh of relief came from me as I made it to the second floor.

After another minute, I found myself standing outside Jimin's door. I juggled the tray, freeing a hand, and knocked in my usual pattern. Like he did when he came into my bedroom, I waited to hear if he called out to tell me he was indecent. When I heard nothing, I twisted the decorative doorknob and stepped foot into the suite I'd been in a few times.

Jimin's bedroom was bigger and more luxurious than mine. Because of the layout, I had to walk down a short hallway that spanned the width of his walk-in robe. Turning to my left as the room opened up, I saw my boyfriend lying prone on his bed. What I was not expecting to see was Jennie, half-naked and straddling Jimin. His hands were on her bare breasts as the sheet pooled around their hips.

The tray clattered on the floor. The items I painstakingly prepared shattered and littered the tiles. Shards of broken porcelain intermingled with food and puddles of tea. With a sob, I sprinted from the scene of my boyfriend's infidelity.

The palace's white walls morphed into open air as I ran out the front door. I had no idea where I was going. All I knew was that I needed to put as much space between myself and the pair, who looked like they were in the throes of passion. With each long stride that my legs took along the vast gravel driveway, my heart broke a little more.

'I can't believe it's happened yet again. Is my love life cursed in this universe too?'

I must've been the punching bag in each universe because right as I was about to step onto the lawn, my foot caught a divot. My ankle went one way, my body the other. I fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes as a lancing pain shot through the joint. My eyes prickled as I rubbed the injury to try and heal it faster. Thankfully, I could tell it was only twisted and not sprained; growing up with a nurse in the family taught me a lot about first aid. Finally, it began feeling better but when I tried to get up, the ground welcomed me again as the pain got worse.

A soul-shattering cry bubbled up from deep within me. If I was being honest with myself, I wasn't sure if it was from the pain of rolling my ankle, from seeing Jimin in a compromising position or having my heart broken by another cheating bastard.

I should have been used to having my heart broken and my soul crushed by others. Enough people had walked all over me. Maybe Esther was right; I did allow others to treat me like a doormat.

As I laid on the ground, unable to get up, my mind gave me the wonderful image of the first person who broke me—Daniel Flynn, my high school sweetheart. Initially, I'd been drawn to what I thought was his kind heart, and his good looks weren't far behind. Although, lurking below Daniel's nice guy facade was a serial cheater and a pathological liar. Sure, I was crushed when I found out his sidepiece was my bully. But, after talking to Nana Betty, I realized that I was more in love with the idea of love than the actual boy. Turned out that I dodged a bullet with him, though, as I'd heard he was in prison before the age of 21 for fraud and drug charges.

The next face that came to me was the one responsible for my greatest heartbreak, and it caused sobs to wrack my body. The scene I'd walked in on just before reminded me so much of my relationship that completely broke me. Instead of Jimin in the bed, it could have been the man who caused my axis to be permanently shifted. My ex-fiancé, Nathan Walker, hardened my heart and soul. He was the reason I built giant walls to protect myself.

I'd met Nate at a bar when I was celebrating my 22nd birthday with friends. He had been at his best friend's buck's party and was my knight in shining armour when another man was incessantly hitting on me. Nate heard the belligerent drunk not listening to my countless rejections, so he pretended to be my boyfriend. It had only been a few short weeks afterwards that we started a relationship together. I fell in love fast with the charismatic and flirtatious project manager. A year into our relationship saw us living together in a unit overlooking the Twin Waters lagoon. It was in a perfect location—close to my family who lived in other areas of the Sunshine Coast and also to Nate's job. Nate proposed while we were on vacation in Thailand, about 18 months after we got together. Both of our families were thrilled at the news of our engagement when we came home.

But then life decided to throw me a curve ball. Over the span of about six months, I'd found my period had been getting heavier. It was becoming significantly more painful with each cycle and they were lasting over a week, which was far longer than my usual 3-4 days. I was also having constant back pain, stabbing pains in my abdomen and even sex had become agonising. After speaking to my doctor, I underwent testing, and it was found that I had many large non-cancerous tumours growing in and around my uterus. I was prescribed medications to try and shrink the fibroids. A device similar to an IUD was inserted into my uterus to release hormones to try and help my heavy flow. When neither of those worked, it was onto plan B and a consultation with a surgeon. Unfortunately, because of the amount of tumours and the fact that some of the fibroids were measuring up to 10cm in size, my only course of action was to have a hysterectomy.

Nate had been my rock; he went with me to each of my doctors' appointments. Learning that I would never be able to carry a child even if I didn't get the hysterectomy crushed both of us. I was grateful to not have to make the decision alone, and we decided that there was no point in me not having the surgery since I was infertile anyway. The only bonus of having my uterus removed was that I wouldn't be in pain anymore. The Saturday before I went under the knife, my friends and family had gathered at Nana Betty's farm, where we had a big bonfire. As part of bidding farewell to that part of my life, I burned tampons, pads and a paper mache uterus that my best friend, Jennifer, made.

Like Nate, Jennifer Atkins had also been a pillar of strength through it all. We'd been best friends since primary school. She was more like family than a friend and was very supportive of both Nate and me during this tough time. However, Aiden found out how much 'support' Jennifer was giving my fiancé. While I was in surgery, he went to my unit to grab my sentimental blanket and found Jennifer and Nate in bed together. The worst part of it all was that they couldn't even wait to see how the surgery had gone, and instead, they were fucking each other as I was having a part of myself ripped out of my body. In the space of two hours, I had lost my uterus, all chances to fall pregnant, my fiancé and my best friend. When I had heard, I found that morphine wasn't quite strong enough to dull the pain of a breaking heart.

While I no longer cried for the loss of those two backstabbers, more tears came since it seemed like I wasn't done reliving past hurts. The face of Tom McDougal popped into my mind. Tom was similar to Nate in many ways, and that should have been my first warning. I'd thought the data analyst was a sweet, honest and dependable guy who had a good sense of humour. He wasn't flirtatious like my ex, and he had strict morals that he lived by—including abhorring cheating in any form. I'd met the man through mutual friends; we'd hit it off quickly.

Tom was aware of how being cheated on had irrevocably damaged me. Through his kindness, I found myself lowering the walls that kept my heart safe. We shared so many of the same hopes and dreams and felt like fate had brought us together. It wasn't a shock to our friends and family when we announced our committed relationship about four months after we'd met. I had been honest in saying that I couldn't have children and I thought Tom understood.

However, I learned on the night of our one-year anniversary that my boyfriend either had not been listening or that he had assumed that I would need 'help'. His gift to me was an appointment to a fertility clinic, where we could look into IVF options to start our family together. I'd felt cracks forming in my poor heart once again upon seeing the appointment letter. Tom mistook my tears as those of happiness. So, you could imagine his surprise when I unleashed my devastation upon him in the middle of the exclusive restaurant he'd taken me to. The poor waiter came over to see if I was okay as I sobbed uncontrollably when my boyfriend walked out on our relationship. I felt a little less guilty upon seeing the look on the young man's face as I gave him an unexpected, but very generous tip—a pair of expensive antique white gold cufflinks. I'd walked from my anniversary dinner that night as a single woman.

By this stage, I was curled up on the lawn in the foetal position. The faint sound of gardeners conversing in their native Korean tongue filled the air as I tried to bear the pain piercing my body, mind, heart and soul. I'd hoped the viewing of my harrowing memories was over; although, like always, the worst was kept for last.

The final face that danced through my head was not one of a man who romantically broke my heart. Nonetheless, he had destroyed my family and me. My paternal uncle had stolen more of the small amount of trust I had for men. Jacob, Nana Betty's eldest son, was very different to my father. The two brothers were close despite being complete opposites; my uncle was a spontaneous man who never laid down any roots, while my father had started his family quite young. Dad loved his job of being a teacher and going to car exhibitions, while Jacob was a pilot who was always flying here or there. I loved hearing stories of my uncle's adventures when he would pop around to see the family, especially the ones where he had jetted off to wonderful locations. It was actually because of Jacob's love of travel that Esther had gotten into travel photography and blogging.

I used to adore my Uncle Jacob. But that all changed when different banks started sending me letters about overdue credit cards I never signed up for. At the time, I thought it was identity fraud from someone overseas. But after the statement for the fifth maxed-out credit card in my name had come, I hired a forensic accountant, who traced everything back to my father's brother. It turned out that my uncle had forged my signature and opened the credit cards to fuel his gambling addiction. I was happy my family had been spared from being my uncle's victims. But he too had broken my heart and destroyed my trust.

It turned out that Jacob was the gift that kept giving. On top of the pain he caused, I had to testify during his trial where he was charged with fraud, credit card fraud and tax fraud. A mixture of emotions ran through me when Uncle Jacob received 10 years for each count and was ordered to pay restitution to me; it was with this money that I was going to start my new business.

Yet, out of all these men who had broken my heart or soul, Jimin's betrayal hit hardest. I'd fallen completely in love with the blonde Seed Bearer, and I'd never experienced this level of love for one person before. This heartbreak felt like it went deeper than the others. It was like it encompassed my entire being, including my soul.

I closed my eyes as I didn't want to hurt anymore. With a deep breath, I allowed my body and mind to shut down.

⋆⁺₊⋆ 💜 ⋆⁺₊⋆

I stood in a small alcove that was hidden from view and read the telegram paper again. My heart was beating gleefully as I decoded the message that had been sent through.

It was a happy circumstance when Eomma had sent through a telegram shortly after I'd arrived at my Seed Bearer's house that her best friend's daughter was Mrs Park's personal maid. Because of how close our mothers were, Jinae had been my eyes and ears in Jimin's palace.

It was Jinae who sent a telegram that, while it looked innocent at first, was meant to fool anyone who might read it. Although, that was not the case at all. The two of us had developed a secret code that concealed the true message beneath the surface.

Things were going well it seemed. Jennie, the cat in this scenario, had played her role well. I smiled brightly reading how she had done exactly as I'd asked and had driven a wedge between Jimin and the witch. It didn't hurt that she had a history with him—one where she had shamelessly flirted for years with the blonde. Flirting with him was, after all, her cover to hide the fact she was attracted only to women.

Knowing my friend as well as I did, I knew that Kim Jennie would have pictured her girlfriend's face as she pretended to seduce the Seed Bearer. There were only a few carefully hand-picked people who knew Jennie's secret. I was one of them. It was because she had no romantic or sexual interest in the blonde Seed Bearer (or any men for that matter) that she was the only woman for this job.

'Plus I know she'd hate the witch's guts as much, if not more than I do, considering her Eomma also ran off with a male witch with colourful hair who was not from our Kingdom.'

I allowed myself to do a short happy dance to celebrate the good news before I stuffed the note into my bra and headed to find my own Seed Bearer. The next stage in my plan was about ready to begin.