Red. All I see is red.

I had sunk my hand into the basin of warm water for hours now, and even with Lillianna and Argenta attempting to scrub off the red marks, it was to no avail.

"I don't understand," I murmured. "Why did this happen? And how?"

Lillianna shook her head in sympathy.
"I believe that there is some witchcraft at play. I do not know what spell she used, but I will search for it right now. Until then..."

The thick, garish red hue was spread all over my fingertips, slowly trailing down to my palm.

I looked like a feral animal who had carved out the heart of another creature, and judging on what I just did earlier, that hunch might not be too far off.

A soft sigh left my lips.

"Summon a seamstress to my chambers next morning. Someone that I can trust," I say to Argenta. "And Lillianna, send a letter to my father, the Prime Minister. I wish to see him."

Deep down, my heart was trembling with fear, but I managed to put on an unbothered façade. I had no idea of what to do, so now I turn to my father for assistance.

Though I do love my husband, I cannot deny that the most powerful man in the entire kingdom is not him.

Instead, it is my father, the patriarch of the supremely powerful House of Winterbourne.

The great Lord Cassian Winterbourne will know what to do, now that a situation has arisen.

He always does.

The sun had barely risen when I heard a knock on my door, and it opened to reveal father, travel-worn and half awake.

"Are you alright, Anne?" he inquired hastily, not wasting a single moment. "The letter said that something terrible had happened to you!"

Without skipping a beat, I revealed my hands to him, marred by the ugly red markings.
"My hands, Father, they have become like this! Look at them, red and dirty like a lowly murderer's! I can't go out looking like this!"

He then seized my hand, his periwinkle eyes, the same as mine, were narrowed as he inspected the marking on my hand.

"This is magic," he whispered. "Northeastern magic."

"By northeastern, do you mean..?"

My father tiredly sighed. "The Hasteburns openly condemn magic, but behind closed doors, they have a whole army of witches and shamans. They are hypocrites."

"Then I have been playing right into their hands," I chuckle sardonically. "What a fool I have been.."

"What have you done this time, Anne ?"

I smile bitterly. "Rooted out a mole," I drawled. "I might have been a bit too violent with her.."

He glanced around the room, searching for my ladies-in-waiting. Of course, the only one who was missing was Rosamund.

"You are saying that Lady Walrich is a traitor ?" he inquired, to which I nodded.

"It is her blood on my hands. If I knew this would happen, I would have finished her off there and then. Although the Marquis wouldn't like it that much.."

My father let out a soft chuckle. "I knew that he'd plant a mole within your circle. It is good that you managed to capture the mole and silenced it."

"I hope that was the case, but it isn't. The deed is already done, and I don't even know how much she had relayed to the Marquis. The matter of Lacey Rivers' death could definitely ruin me-- no, us."

Though we felt as if we had infinite power, our grip on that power was undoubtedly shaky.

I had long known that the Hasteburns were actively plotting to remove me and put their stupid, vapid little girl in my place, but knowing that they now had a leverage to use against me sent chills down my spine.

"As long as I am alive, that will never happen," I hear my father reassure me. "Your husband gave the order to cover up that matter, and I was the one who carried it out. All the maid servants and midwives that served that whore are either exiled, muted or dead. There is nothing that you should be afraid of."

I force myself to smile. "Then, what should I do now ?"

He gave me a smile in return, but unlike mine, it was actually genuine and his eyes were twinkling with enthusiasm. "Relish in our victory. Let the whole world witness our glory. Let their hearts be struck with fear, and no one with dare to cross us again."

My father is notorious for having a glib tongue at court, but it is his pretense of benevolence and magnanimity that truly won the hearts of the people.

Back in my juvenile years, the people of Rhyland would cheer and cry out with joy whenever they saw our carriages pass by, as if we were the primordial gods that descended from heaven.

I never understood which aspect of me that warranted such a reaction. I was just a naive, scrawny little girl with a head full of a fantasies, not a great knight that saved the kingdom from destruction.

But as I grew older, I began to see the greater picture of this facade that my father had created, thus elevating our position in the eyes of the people.

To the commonfolk, the noble houses were a source of entertainment. They liked to watch us waddling around in our thick starched skirts and struggling to balance a head full of jewels, and they kept track on who married whom, and whether or not that family was in the King's good graces.

My father knew that, and he used it to the best of his ability.

Several hundred years ago, the now extinct House of Sutton once flourished in capital city. A handful of Phoenicia's queen consorts were born in the House of Sutton, and their influence almost rivalled the royal family itself.

The Suttons were glory and magnificence epitomised, and it did not take long for both the people and the royal family to despise them.

Although they were entertaining to watch, they were insanely insensitive and out of touch with the commonfolk's suffering. The people were starving to death on the streets, and at the same time, the patriarch of House Sutton had ordered for gold tiles to be laid inside his bathroom floor.

Three little children were tired to death after working day and night sewing a new dress for Duchess Sutton, and it was later revealed that she discarded the dress after wearing it just once.

Their behaviour gradually became more and more unbearable and egregious, and instead of being admired and revered, they were met with pure hatred instead.

The past few hundred years were a tumultuous time for our kingdom, and the people were fearless and unhinged. They broke into Sutton Castle and ransacked it until it was completely empty.

But they did not use the gold for themselves. Instead, they melted it down to form a single, huge pot of molten gold, and into that pot went every single member of House Sutton. No one batted an eyelid, nor was anyone persecuted. The matter was swept under the rug and swiftly forgotten.

Taking the massacre of House Sutton as a lesson, my father crafted his own technique to gain power while maintaining the love of the people.

Smile, and never waver, he would say. If anyone ever tries to shout or scream at you, just smile. Even if you are in the wrong, outsiders will think that they are the aggressor, and you are innocent.

It does not matter what is right or wrong. Truth is fickle, after all. What most people believe in will gradually become the accepted truth.

Second, be humble. Let the people see that you are the same as them.

They will think that you are their friend, that they can trust you. You are the Queen, the Mother of the Kingdom. All eyes will be on you, so put on a good show.

Let them see how kind and benevolent you are. Let them witness how well we, the Winterbournes treat our subjects. They will love you, Anne, I dare promise that.

The south is already ours, so all that is left to be done is to finish the task and conquer the whole continent.

And so I shall. Even though my heart is full of hatred, I shall smile.

I shall smile in the faces of my enemies, those who I have wronged, and I shall do my best to master the art of reversing black and white, exactly like my father did.

There is no other option for us now.

Though we have seemingly succeeded, the battle is not over yet. The battle will never be over.

Even when the Hasteburns are dead and rotting in their graves, there will still be others who vie for my position, those who wish that they could be as powerful as House Winterbourne.

We have gone too far now, and there is no going back. The only way is forward.